#carmy fluff

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

[queers-gambit]

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

[ariisheresstuff]

The Hormones

Pairings: Carmy x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: You decided to go with Carmy to work, Carmy hesitated with bringing you along with you. You been dealing with pregnancy hormones recently. With the hormones hitting you, Richie had enough and lashes out on you making you upset.

Genre: Angst to comfort

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, mentions of being pregnant, Richie being mean, Yelling.

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! 💜

“Alright baby, I’m off to work.” Carmen announces as walks over to you in the kitchen. He places a hand on your bump rubbing it gently before kissing your forehead.

“Actually, Carmy?” You said making him go back to face you.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked as he softly cupped your face worriedly. You smiled at him being so protective of you.

“Can I come with you today? I’m tired of being home by myself.” You said with pleading eyes.

Carmen sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Are you sure babe? I don’t want you getting tired of being bored at the place. Plus, you should be resting.” Carmen loves when you come along with him to work, but with your hormones being more stronger and you being more sensitive, he hesitated. You literally started to cry over tying your shoe because your stomach was in the way.

You pouted, “Please Carmy? I promise I won’t cause trouble I just wanna be with you, I get sad when I’m alone here.” Your eyes were already watering making Carmen panic.

“Okay, okay baby, don’t get upset. I hate when you get upset, it hurts me. Of course you can come, but if things to start to overwhelm you, you tell me okay?” You nodded making him smile and peck your lips. He grabbed your hand as the two you of walked out of the apartment.

“Look who finally showed up!” Richie announced as Carmen walked in with you, Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Shut the fuck Richie, get to work.” Carmen shook his head as he led you through the kitchen.

“What brings you here sweets?” Richie asked you as he gave you a hug, you smiled.

“Didn’t feel like staying home, I need to get out and enjoy life before the little one comes.” Richie nodded as he continued to work.

Tina smiled as she walked up to you giving you a hug and a kiss before rubbing your bump. “How are you doing mama? Baby doing good?”

You smiled at Tina’s comfort, “Healthy baby, but it’s killing me.” You whined making Tina frown.

“Aye, poor thing. You need anything?”

“Not right now, I’m okay thank you.” Carmen yelled something at the others, as you walked towards his office.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” You quickly turned to see Sydney waving, you quickly smiled at you and gave her a hug.

“Hey Syd! How you doing?”

“Good, good, and you?”

“Ugh, it’s hard dealing with a fetus in your stomach.” You joked as you rubbed your bump.

“Well hey, almost time y’know?”

You nodded with a smile, “I can’t wait.” You quickly said goodbye as Carmen led you to sit in his office chair.

“You hungry or anything?” He asked you as he ran a hand over your back, you shook your head.

“Not at the moment.” You shrugged

“Alright, let me know if anything.” He quickly gave you a kiss to your lips making you sigh.

“Love you.” You said with a smile making him smile back.

“Love you more.”

It’s been over two hours already and you starting to get cranky. You were whining as you had your head down. Your back was killing you and you felt a headache coming on from the heat from the kitchen. You whined as you slowly got up before wincing as your back started to hurt. You rubbed your bump as you opened the office door entering the kitchen.

“Guys, I fucking told you a million times! Get your shit together, I’m not fucking playing!” Carmen yelled as everyone yelled “Yes Chef!” In unison. Carmen sighed before he spotted you with a frown on your face.

“Hey baby, you okay? What’s wrong?” He cupped your face as he examined your features.

“I’m getting hungry carm, it’s hot I’m dying! And my back is hurting!” You said a little too loud, Carmen cursed in his mind knowing you were getting cranky.

“I’m sorry babe, you wanna sit by the booths? You might cool off better there. And you want something to eat?” He led you to the entrance of the diner, before you stopped him.

“No Carmen, nothing is helping me. I’m tired and hungry and it’s making me upset!” You could feel tears forming making Carmen cringe.

“Hey, hey, hey. Relax, I know baby. I’m sorry that you’re going through this. Just take a deep breath and I’ll make you something to eat, what do you feel like having, hm?” He said softly not wanting to make you more upset, he quickly rubbed your back making you whimper as small tears fell down your face.

“I-I I don’t know what I want to eat! Basically anything I eat makes me puke! I can’t take it anymore!” You were starting to get more loud making everyone in the kitchen look at you and Richie finally blew it.

“Jesus Christ! Why did you even come if you’re gonna act like a bitch?” Richie yelled from the other side, everyone turned to look at Richie who had a frown on his face.

“Richie!” Carmen yelled back at his cousin making Richie shake his head.

“Nah! Because why the fuck is she here if she’s gonna be bitchy about everything? Make that make sense to me!”

“Richie, you better shut the fuck up! She’s pregnant, I don’t care if she’s here or not! Don’t make me fucking hurt you cousin!”

“Let me see you try, jagoff.” Richie said with a sarcastic chuckle. Carmen’s eyes twitched.

“Don’t even start with me Richie! You’re the fucking jagoff, don’t start with that bullshit I-

Carmen stopped his yelling when he heard a sniffle and a whimper. Everyone turned to look at you, tears fell down your face as you hiccuped.

“I-I’m sorry.” You said through broken sobs, everyone just froze as they watched you cry.

“Baby.” Carmen said softly as he quickly walked over to you. “Hey, look at me.” You pushed his hands away as you shook your head. You then turned around and walked over to the back door, you opened the door as you went outside to the cool breeze.

Everyone just stood there in silence, then looked at Richie.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Richie! How dare you do such a thing to that poor girl! She’s pregnant for god sake!” Tina yelled at Richie as she slapped his arm with a frown.

“Not cool Richie, seriously.” Marcus said with a shook of his head as he followed Tina outside.

“Do better Richie, honestly.” Sydney said as she followed the rest outside to console you.

Richie just stood there frozen with his mouth slightly opened.

“What the fuck is your problem!?!” Carmen roared as he shoved Richie into a wall nearby, making Richie stumble.

“Chill Carmen!”

“No, you chill! How are you gonna say that to her huh?!?! Don’t you have a kid?!?! Didn’t you deal with this too?!? How dare you come at Y/N like that! She didn’t deserve that shit! She’s seven fucking months pregnant! Of course she’s gonna feel like shit!” All Carmen saw was red as his shoulders rose up and down from his yelling rant. His heart was pounding as his hand shook under Richie’s shirt he had a grip on.

“Chill the fuck out Carmen! I’m sorry, that just came over me! I mean it! I didn’t mean for that happen, I just let my inner thoughts get to me! I know she didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry alright?” Richie said in a calming voice to get Carmen to calm down.

Carmen gave him a glare as he let go his shirt, “You better fucking apologize to her, not me. Understand?” Richie nodded with hands in surrender, Carmen huffed as he first walked outside, Richie behind him.

You had your head buried in your hands as Tina comforted you, your head rested on her shoulder as she rubbed your back in comfort , your shoulders shook with each sob.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for-for that to-to happen.” You whimpered, making Tina shake her head.

“Nonsense mija, you are carrying a child. You have every right to feel this way. Richie is being an asshole, don’t let him get to you mama.”

You removed your hand away from your face before looking up to see Carmen and Richie. Tina moved away but not before giving your head a peck as she told everyone to go back inside, leaving you, Carmen, and Richie alone.

You looked down at your feet, not making eye contact with either of the men. Carmen didn’t say anything as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you.

You couldn’t help but feel more tears fall down as you softly cried into his chest. Carmen softly shushed you as he rubbed your back knowing it was hurting you. He whispered sweet nothing in your ear as he kissed your head and forehead repeatedly.

“I-I I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean for this to happen.” You said through hiccups, Carmen shook his head.

“Hey, no, stop that. This wasn’t your fault baby. You’re pregnant, you have every right to be mad, upset, and sad. This is a hard time for you. But you should’ve stayed home baby. It’s always chaotic here, and I don’t want that to overwhelm you. I want you to be okay and feel comfortable. I know it’s hard for you, but I’m here always for you okay?”

He cupped your face making you look up at him, your lip trembled as tears fell down your cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, before kissing your lips a few times. He gave you a hug making you wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying his touch.

“I love you, y’know that?” He said softly in your ear making you nod in his chest. He swayed you back and forth before facing Richie, who had a frown on his face.

“I think Richie has something to say to you too.” Carmen said softly making you open your eyes to see Richie with a sad frown. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you Y/N, I really am. I admit I was being a jagoff and all that shit I said was wrong and that you don’t deserve that. But, I hope you can forgive me because you’re my family and I don’t want to hurt you like that again.”

You actually felt another set of tears coming at Richie’s apology, you loved Richie as family. You hated what he said to you, but how can you not forgive him.

“Oh Richie, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry that I triggered you to go off on me. I’m sorry, you’re a sweet man and I know you didn’t mean it.” You hiccuped as you walked over to Richie before wrapping your arms around his waist bringing him into a hug. Richie’s eyes went wide, not expecting you to forgive him so easily. He tensed up as you hugged him, but quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry kid, really. I was an asshole for that.” He said softly as he rubbed your back in comfort making you look up at him with a smile. You stood on your tippy toes before pecking his cheek with a smile making him smile back at you. You turned to face Carmen who walked over to you and Richie.

“Don’t pull that shit again cousin or I swear I will beat your ass.” Richie rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, yeah cousin, I got it. Jesus.” He shook his head making you chuckle a bit at the two men.

“You still hungry baby?” Carmen asked you as the three of you walked back into the kitchen. You nodded your head at that.

“I’m having those cravings again actually.” You said as you held onto Carmen’s hand. He led you to the booths in the front, Carmy smiled.

“What’s the craving today?” Carmen said as the two of you sat down at a booth.

“Pickles and ice cream.” You said with a smile making Carmen give you a disgusting look. You smacked his arm before laughing.

“How the fuck do you enjoy that?” He said as he got up, you laughed.

“It’s not me, it’s the baby!” You put your hands up in surrender.

“Sure it is baby.” He said with a smile before leaning down to kiss you before entering the kitchen.

“Marcus! Get me a cup of the ice cream you made and Tina! Get me some pickles! Y/N is having her weird ass cravings again!”

“Carmen! Don’t announce it to everyone!

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[fooled-around-and-fell]

angst to fluff with carmy please? 🥹

hope you like this!

Bad Day

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: cursing

Masterlist

------

it's not often that you're exhausted from work and the burning out usually never consumes you like this. when days like this happen, all you really want to do is to be left alone with your own thoughts, so you always stick in the office or walk around aimlessly to have some alone time first before going home. after today though, you just want to be in bed.

carmen also had a shit day at work, and usually he can come home, expect you to shower him with love and kisses to make it all better. you're so nurturing and it heals part of him, so when he comes home to a cold environment, he feels something is off.

"hey babe," he finds you in bed, scrolling endlessly on Tiktok.

"hey," you tried to sing-song it but came out flat. you didn't even look at him.

did i do something? carmen thinks to himself.

he hangs his jacket on the coat rack and plops on the bed, seeking warmth from you. "did you eat yet?"

"yeah, a while ago." you say. it's normal for you to eat first, carmen often tells you not to wait for him.

he frowns, noticing your nonchalant tone and scoots closer to you to cuddle, but you immediately scrunch into a ball and that makes it difficult for him to hug you.

carmen's frown only deepens, but he decides to let it go. "okay.. i'm gonna shower. wanna join me?"

"mm, i showered already."

carmen sighs and walks away while muttering, "that never stopped you before..."

carmen wracks his brain in the showering, wondering what he did wrong this morning because you were happy and cheerful. he did leave in a rush earlier today, didn't even have the chance to kiss you bye. maybe you're mad about that?

when carmen steps out of the shower, you're still in bed scrolling on your phone. he gets under the covers to join you, and once again tries to cuddle.

"carmen-"

"sorry i was in a rush earlier this morning," he says, kissing your shoulder.

you hum to acknowledge him and slowly remove his tight hold on you. he's actually not holding on that tight, but with your thoughts right now, it feels like a death grip.

carmen frowns again when you turn around not to face him and scoffs. "okay, what's wrong?"

"what?"

"i'm sorry i didn't have time to say bye earlier this morning, i was running late." he repeats himself, "i'm trying to make it up to you, alright?"

"what?" your turn to frown. "what are you on about?"

carmen sighs and gets up from the bed. "you've been ignoring me all night! i had a shit-terrible day at work and all i wanted to do is to come home and cuddle with you and feel better, okay? i'm sorry if that's too much to ask."

"fuck off, carmen."

"eat shit, carmen."

"get the fuck out, carmen."

that's the go-to response when you're usually in a fight with carmen. it's usually a yelling competition, or carmen being self-destructive, you being passive-aggressive or sarcastic, and it all ends with you two tired, in bed in each other's arms. but now, carmen is met with your silence, and he's really worried that he fucked up.

"did it ever occur to you that maybe i had a bad day too?"

maybe that's when carmen finally sees the dark circles under your eyes, or how you don't seem like you're able to smile. he doesn't think he's never seen you this exhausted, and he doesn't know what to do.

"do whatever you want, carmen."

you've never said that one before. his words hurt you, but you're honestly too tired to fight.

carmen isn't sure what to do. doing whatever he wants involves making you feel better, but he isn't sure he can do that at the moment. so instead, he lies back down in bed next to you and turns off the light.

------

the next morning's sunrise wakes your sleepless eyes, and you see carmen still lying down next to you. usually carmen still has work, but he told syd last night to take over so he can take care of you. well, maybe you don't need to be taken care of, but he decides he should do better and be there for you.

you slowly make your way to the kitchen to make breakfast and coffee, but carmen appears behind you and takes the coffee pot from you.

"sit down."

"i got it, carm-"

"sit. down."

you sigh and sit on the couch. you feel bad for possibly making carmen feel bad last night, but you also feel like he had it coming. he's not the only one who's allowed to have a bad day. then again... you usually don't show your bad days and deal with it on your own, so of course he wouldn't know when you're having one or how to cheer you up.

carmen sits next to you and hands you your coffee.

"thanks."

"listen," he starts. "i'm sorry, i should've paid attention to you more. i should've seen that something's wrong -- i sensed something, i just.. i don't know why i assumed you're fine when now that i think of it, you were obviously stressed out. it was selfish of me. i'm sorry."

you put your coffee down and climbed on top of him, letting him straighten both his legs on the couch while you lay between his legs, head on his chest.

"it's not your fault, carmy." you say. "i never... i didn't have anyone to rely on before you. it's not easy for me to tell you when i'm having a bad day or when i'm struggling because i'm so used to handling things on my own, and somehow i think telling you all that would make me a burden."

carmen slowly caresses your waist, kissing your forehead. "you're never a burden, and however you cope is up to you. just know that i'm always here regardless."

you look up and kiss him passionately. "thank you, carmen."

"there's that smile." he grins, kissing you again.

[leviathanspain]

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

i wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

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

part 2

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you knew he didn’t like you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

except,

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

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

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

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

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

months passed, changing things with time, including carmen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Carbonara (or Carmy Cooks for You)

Pt. 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy

This is part 2 of Chicken Soup for Carmy! I hope you love it. NO WARNINGS. Pure fluff

Your apartment was warm. You entered ahead of Carmy, hanging your coat on the wall and kicking off your shoes. “Make yourself at home!” You invited, jovially.

Carmy followed suit, taking in your space. It smelled like you. It was small, but cozy. Personal touches littered every inch of the space. Your kitchen was to the left, a small wooden table against the wall for your dining area. The kitchen counter looked out to the moderately sized living room. Your little orange velvet couch sat before exposed brick and two tall windows. The wall to the left was covered with posters and picture frames, to the right were a pair of bookshelves without an inch of space that wasn’t occupied by a book or trinket. Several plants crowded the windowsills. The rug was soft and plushy on his feet. It would seem hectic to the blind eye, but Carmy could sense the intention behind each item present. Drumming his fingers on his leg, he chose to look at the wall of pictures. It was an eclectic mix of old posters; there were vintage Coca Cola posters, fashion campaigns from the 70s and 80s, music posters like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zepplin and such.. There were pictures and Polaroids of you with people he didn’t recognize and a few random things in picture frames; a pressed flower, a movie ticket, an unused tea bag, a coffee cup sleeve with a scrawling handwriting on it that said “don’t look back”.

You emerged from the bathroom, your hair free from the bun Carmy was used to. It fell about your face, messy and wild in a way that made the breath catch in Carmy’s throat. You joined him at his side, smiling at the wall before you.

“My scrap wall,” you explained. “I love the idea of scrapbooks but I like seeing things everyday.” Carmy nodded, staring at your profile. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He could reach out and caress your cheek… he wrenched his gaze from you and forced it to the wall. “I uh, I had no idea you were into vintage stuff.” He said.

“Likewise.” He raised his brow at you sideways and you laughed. “Loopwheel? Very Americana.” Carmy’s face felt hot. Was this real? It couldn’t be. How could you be any more perfect. You were still wearing his shirt. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Carmy had perused your fridge and pantry, settling on the dish he’d make. You sat at the little table, one leg pulled up to your chest and scratching away in a notebook before you. Music from the playlist you put on floated through the space, complimenting the ambient sound of Camry hard at work. It was so domestic. Usually, Carmy was anxious. His head pounded, his heart raced, and he could never catch his breath. But here with you, Carmy felt peaceful. It was like he’d done this a thousand times before. It was comfortable, safe. Carmy’s chest felt warm and relaxed. His mind wandered as his well practiced hands moved through the recipe. He imagined being here with you, making dinner together after a long day at the restaurant or curled up on the couch watching something on tv, how his arms would wrap around you and you’d lay your head on his chest. Little things filled his mind: going grocery shopping together, washing dishes, folding laundry, having coffee in the morning sitting in your couch and discussing vintage American icons. Sleeping beside you, feeling your skin against his, feeling your-

“Fuck!” The hot sear of the pan against Carmy’s hand snapped him out of his thoughts. You leapt to your feet, rushing over to him.

“Are you okay?!” You asked, grasping his hand in both of yours and guiding it under the stream of cold water. Truthfully, Carmy couldn’t even feel the burn. Not when your hands were on him. You cooed and tutted, closely inspecting his hand.

“I’m alright.” He assured you. You looked up at him and released his hand, much to Carmy’s dismay. You were close, the sink pressed against your back. If you took an extra deep breath your chest would brush against his. Carmy wasn’t particularly tall, but the way he looked down at you, his eyes dark and glued to yours, lips parted slightly, and his uninjured hand resting on the edge of the counter beside you, it felt like he towered over you.

“C-can I help?” You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as such a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. His proximity made you dizzy.

“No, no… it’s almost done.”

It felt like an eternity while you stared at each other. You forced yourself away, resuming your place at the table while your heart screamed at the four foot distance. The next few minutes passed in silence until Carmy set a warm bowl in front of you.

Your jaw dropped.

Carmy kicked the door to the alley open, flicking his lighter. He felt like he was going to explode. Richie’s constant bitching, the endless mess of the office and the kitchen, everything was fucked. It was fucked. Carmy ran a frantic hand through his hair. He couldn’t breathe. He took a few steps into the alley, fully intending on having a total meltdown until he heard it. A sniffle.

You sat with your back against the bricks, your head in your hands. “Hey,” Carmy tried to make his voice as gentle as he could. “Are you, um- are you okay?”

Carmy felt his heart drop out of his body when you turned your face to him. Your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. Shit. Shit shit shit. What had he done? How had he fucked this up already? What happened? Was it Richie? He’d kill him.

“I’m sorry, chef.” You said, wiping your face.

“Carmy.” He said, quickly. “Sorry um… just you can call me Carmy.”

You smiled softly, despite the tears in your eyes you were beautiful. “Carmy,” you tested it on your tongue. Carmy thought he’d explode hearing your sweet voice say his name. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying at work it’s just-” you choked up, averting your gaze and shamefully wiping your tears.

Carmy sank down to sit beside you, unsure. You sighed. “My mom uh… she’s kind of fucked up. And my brother keeps calling and screaming at me because he wants me to go home and take care of her but…” you shook your head. “I just can’t go back there, ya know?”

Carmy’s heart panged with empathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean…”

“It was so fucked up when I was a kid, though.” You stared up at the sky. “When I was 10, my mom would make carbonara every Wednesday. It was my favorite day of the week because I loved carbonara. When she started to get worse, I’d make it on Wednesdays just trying to hold onto it you know? I haven’t made it since I was a kid… I don’t know, I just… couldn’t bring myself to. I miss it though.”

Carmy let you vent but truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. It was a little too close to home for him. He just watched you. The sun on your face, the puffiness subsiding from your eyes. He looked down at the ground, worried he’d say something stupid if he kept staring at you. You sighed again. You turned your head to him with a soft smile on your lips. “Thank you for listening to me rant. It feels good to say it out loud.”

Carmy’s cheeks tingled as he met your gaze. He smiled in return, the anxiety that had driven him into the alley in the first place was a million miles away.

“Yeah, anytime.”

You stared at the bowl before you. A nest of creamy spaghetti, dusted with grated Parmesan, crispy pancetta, and vibrant green chives. You felt your throat grow tight, tears pricking at your eyes. Carmy settled in the chair across from you and you stared at him in disbelief. “Carbonara?”

Carmy was suddenly nervous. Had he overstepped? “You uh, you said you hadn’t had it in a while.”

Nothing could have prepared Carmy for the look on your face. Eyes wide at him and beaming with adoration. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words seemed to fall short so instead you lifted a forkful of the creamy noodles to your lips. You sighed with delight when it touched your tongue. “Oh my god…”

“Good?”

You nodded, vigorously. “That is the best carbonara I’ve ever had.” You shook your head with a chuckle as you continued to eat. “You’re so annoying.”

“What?” Carmy practically choked he was so confused.

You laughed again, the melodic sound easing his nerves. “You’re SO good at this. Better be careful or I’ll have to make you cook dinner every night.”

Carmy couldn’t think of anything he’d like more. The warmth in his chest was threatening to spill over as he gathered all his courage into one single word: “promise?”

Seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant already gave you butterflies, but having him in your apartment so close you could touch made your knees weak. You stood at the sink side by side washing the dishes from dinner. Your shoulders bumped every few seconds. You had just made Carmy laugh with your very strong opinions of John Lennon. You’d never heard him laugh like that before, so earnest and carefree. His shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes brighter. The stress of family and the restaurant was far behind both of you, kept out by your apartment door. You hummed, wishing this night could last forever.

“Yeah… me too.” Carmy was grinning at you, cheeks tinged red and bashful. Your eyes widened, had that been out loud?

“Sorry, I uh- I just mean um-” you looked shyly over to him. He was drying his hands, leaning against the counter with a pleased smile on his perfect lips.

“It’s okay,” he assured. Carmy stepped closer. The warmth in his chest was boiling over. He reached up slowly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered against your cheek. “I like taking care of you too.”

[kdogreads]

Waiting in line to pick up my nephew from pre-school and thinking about picking up the kids from school with Carmy

We exist in the amazing @thebearer ‘s universe ok 😍🫶

—

He is usually at work so you pick up the girls by yourself. It’s no big deal, of course, but their first question is always, “Is daddy home yet?”

You try to let them down easily everyday with a gentle, “No, but he will be soon,” and a promise to stop at Starbucks on the way home.

Today was a special day, though. It’s the day before Halloween, the crisp fall air swirls around your mom SUV (You told Carmen absolutely not to a minivan) when you pull into the pick up line and roll the windows down. And Carm had somehow managed to take the afternoon off.

The girls were so excited to wear their costumes to school this morning. Teddy dressed up as a magical-fairy-princess-slash-mini-Michael-Myers and Willow is a chef, just like her Daddy.

It was only a few minutes of chatting with Carm about the restaurant and what you needed from the grocery this weekend before the school bell rang, signaling the girls would be running out any minute. Carmen ducked down in the driver’s seat as much as he could while you got out of the car like normal.

Both girls came running towards you with some kind of Halloween craft and a small bag of candy, already squealing and excitedly regaling their spooky party and what all of their friends wore.

“Okay, okay! Let’s get home so we can make dinner for Daddy,” You prompted hoping they would start climbing into the car.

Both girls popped open their doors and slung their backpacks in. You had to look away to hide your smirk as the big reveal was about to happen.

“Katie had on the biggest princess dress I’ve ever seen, Mama, and James was a Power Ranger and— Daddy?” Teddy squealed with joy and caught Willow’s attention who also started giggling uncontrollably.

“Hi my babies! How was sch—uugh,” Carmen started but was met with an elbow to the ribs as the girls started climbing over each other to get in the front seat and hug him first.

A chorus of giggles and kisses filled the air and your heart. You ducked your head a bit in embarrassment when someone’s knee bumped into the car’s horn, but the smiles in the cars nearest to you melted away your worries. It seems the parents and teachers nearby thought the sweet reunion was just as precious as you did.

“Mama! Did you know Daddy was in here?” Willow questions you with a hand on her hip. Boy were you in trouble when she got a little older and a little sassier.

“Alright, alright, girls. Get in your seats, yeah? We have a surprise for you at home,” Carmen finally put an end to the adorable cuddle puddle happening in front of you.

“A surprise?” Both girls squealed as they climbed back into their own spots. Carmen simply wiggled his eyebrows in the rearview mirror as giggles filled the car yet again.

You could feel the buzz in the air as they excitedly discussed what it could be. You piped up only once with a solid, “Nope,” when someone said something about a puppy.

You spent the evening carving pumpkins Carmen and you had picked out earlier that day and drinking warm apple cider that had been steeping on the stove all day.

It was a simple fall activity day, but it filled your heart to the very brim with love for your perfect little family.

—

A/N: I could die I love them 😭😭 thank you again to my idol for creating such an in-depth universe for us to live in our delulus 🫶❤️

[omgrachwrites]

Date Night - Carmy Berzatto

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You and Carmy go on your first date.

Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this, please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

part two

Natalie glanced at you as you walked into the living room to show off your outfit, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Her facial expression was the same as you twirled in front of her, showing her the outfit from all angles.

“What do you think?” you asked as you smoothed your hands down your dress.

Nat laughed, “sweetie, you look beautiful.”

You pouted at her, “you’ve said that about every single outfit I’ve chosen,” you look down at the dress.

She rolled her eyes with a smile, “because it’s true, you’re beautiful. You could wear a bin bag and Carmy would still be crazy about you.”

You smiled as you sat next to her, your date with her brother wasn’t until later on tonight but you were nervous. You really wanted this to go well and you didn’t want to do anything that would screw this up.

“I’m nervous, Nat,” you admitted and she smiled at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Carmy really likes you, Y/N,” she sighed as her phone buzzed and she checked it, “damn, I gotta go, they need me at the restaurant. Good luck tonight, you’ll do great,” she smiled and pulled you into a hug.

All day you lounged around, doing nothing, last night you’d had the shower where you scrubbed and shaved everything and everywhere. You weren’t expecting anything to happen, not on the first date – Carmy would be too shy to make a move – but you just wanted to be prepared. Finally, it was time for you to get ready, you curled your hair and applied your makeup light and pretty, with the help of a large glass of wine.

When Carmy knocked on your door, you slipped your heels on and grabbed your bag before pulling open the door. Your throat went dry as you looked up at him. He looked so gorgeous, he was wearing a tight white button down shirt that accentuated his muscles and over the top he was wearing a black suit jacket. He was holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. His cheeks were flushed as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

He smiled as he ran a hand through his curls, “you look amazing.”

“Thanks Carm, so do you.”

The redness on his cheeks only deepened as he held out the flowers, “these are for you.”

You smiled as you took the flowers, “they’re beautiful, come in and I’ll put them in some water,” you let him in as you arranged the flowers in a vase, “you want a drink?” you glanced over your shoulder.

He shook his head as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “nah, don’t want to miss the reservation.”

You smiled as you finished arranging the flowers and took his hand, “then let’s go,” you flushed as he linked your fingers together.

The restaurant was just an uber ride away and Carmy held your hand as he helped you out of the car. The restaurant looked beautiful – and fancy – you felt a little out of place. Carmy must have noticed because he squeezed your hand and you looked over at him.

“You okay?”

You smiled as you leaned over and kissed his cheek, “yeah, as long as I can take you to my favourite dive bar afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grinned.

At first, you thought it was going to be awkward but as you were sat at the best seat in the house the both of you launched into conversation just as easily as you always did.

“How’s the restaurant?” you asked as you took a swallow of wine.

Carmy rolled his eyes with a quick laugh, “everyone’s at each other’s throats but they seem to be working together well enough. How’s the pasta?” he grinned with a twinkle in his gorgeous eyes.

“It’s good,” you nod as you eat a forkful, “but your pasta is my favourite.”

He grinned as he nudged his leg against yours, “you’re my favourite.”

For dessert the both of you shared a dish of lemon sorbet with a couple of vodka shots poured into the bottom. By the time you reluctantly let Carmy pay the bill – he wouldn’t let you split it – the both of you were pretty buzzed as you stumbled to the bar. The bar was a typical dive, the floor was sticky and it stank of beer but you felt comfortable, and you could tell that Carmy was too.

He thanked you as you handed him a pint of beer and he nodded over at the pool table, “you wanna play?”

“I’m rubbish at pool, I can barely hold a pool cue,” you laughed.

“C’mon, I’ll show you,” those big blue eyes talked you into it and you relented as he led you over to the pool table.

He set up the table and you couldn’t stop watching as his tattooed fingers rearranged the balls and he gave you a lazy, lopsided grin, “you wanna break? I’ll show you how.”

You smiled, “sure.”

Butterflies shot through your stomach as he took your hands in his, he stood behind you and showed you how to properly hold the pool cue. He leaned over you, just like they did in the movies and with Carmy’s help you managed to break.

“There you go,” he whispered in your ear and tingles shot up your spine as he kissed your cheek.

It was hard to keep up the pretence and you slipped up when you pocketed a ball. Carmy stood there staring at you with his mouth open.

“You lied! You’re hustling me!”

You laughed at his accusation, “fine, I’m not as bad as pool as I made out to be. And hustling is when you do it for money.”

He rolled his eyes with a grin, “you owe me.”

You ended up winning the game of pool and Carmy looked at you with a look of mock disappointment on his face as he shook his head, “I am so disappointed, that you won by cheating.”

You giggled, “you’re so dramatic. How’s this, I’ll let you pick your consolation prize?”

Carmy grinned as he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you deeply, you were in shock and you hesitated for a split second before you kissed him back. You placed your hands on his firm chest as you pulled away just a little, “wow that’s funny, that’s exactly what I was gonna pick for my winning prize.”

He smirked as he cupped your cheek, “what an amazing coincidence,” he chuckled as he wrapped a hand in your hair and kissed you again, this time he snuck his tongue into your mouth. That’s how you spent the rest of the night, playing pool and making out.

He walked you up to your apartment, his fingers laced through yours, “I had a really good time tonight, Carm.”

“Me too, even if you did cheat at pool.”

You laughed, “I did not cheat!” you got your keys out of your bag and you looked at Carmy, “you want to come in?”

Carmy smiled but shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, I’d end up doing something we’re not ready for,” he chuckled as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, “but I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon,” you nod and he leaned in to give you another breath taking kiss that made you feel like you were a teenager all over again.

[tigertan]

neighborly favors and chicago cigarettes.

uhh late to the bear party but eat up anyway .

probably part one of a slow burn fic im writing .. lmk if the public wants more :3 CONTEXT } you recently moved to chicago with the help of your friend syndey, who's boss-slash-friend-slash-business partner had an open apartment across from him. [word count ; 4k] [ mentions of alchohol, cigarettes, cursing. ]

;; all fluff. awkward first meetings. a lot of fuckin' tension and shared cigarettes.

the blackened mac and cheese in the pot bubbles vengefully on the stovetop and you curse it right back with a hissed out, “fuuuck.”

you’d left the stove on for a bit too long when you went to hop into the shower. as a result your mac and cheese became charcoal black and smoking. it’s a wonder how the fire alarm didn’t go off as you grab the handle with a stained rag and toss it into the sink. 

the hot pot emits a dying hiss as it hits the water, and red whines from under the couch. “yeah, i know.” you respond to him, standing square in the kitchen and staring at the pot of your former dinner. “that was the last box too, shit.” you groan, finally stepping forward to peer over the sink edge and now you were staring at the guttering pasta and dairy mixture with furrowed brows. “fuck.” you say once more. instead of red’s usual whine in response your phone buzzes on the countertop and you received a text from sydney. she’s down by the bear if you wanted to stop by and maybe grab dinner with her and some of the staff since closing is in 30 minutes? you respond to her with a swift hell yeah. you didn’t dress up much. neat white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. afterall, the bear was a walking distance of four to five minutes. and you throw on a black puffer jacket, for chicago wasn’t christened the windy city for nothing. again, an entire scene change from the warm, near stagnant winds of southern california.

leaving red in the bedroom as it’s way past his bedtime, you grab your phone, wallet, and keys before stuffing your hands in your pockets and stepping out. but as you do there’s a rustling of paper against polyester and a crumpled sheet inside your left pocket. you already know what it is before pulling it out and every fiber in you wants to throw it away. it’s a photo roll— from last winter— of you and your ex-boyfriend, lucas. you sigh, stuffing your bottom lip between your teeth as you stare at the once over the moon you and him. it seemed so long ago, before he started drinking. you clench your jaw. you’d moped around enough in the past three months. this was a fresh start that everyone said you’d deserved, and it would not be ruined by him. nothing would ever be ruined by him again. a spike of anger wedges between your ribs, familiar and fucking ugly. you heave your chest once, exhaling it out along with the paper roll, tossing it to the floor. you jet down the stairs two at a time and step into the windy streets of the windy city, smelling the air. it smelled of petrol and cigarettes, but you didn’t outright hate it. it smelled like l.a. but then again, every big city probably smelled like gas and smoke.

the walk was quicker than you expected, as you strode down the street, you took in the street signs and flashing lights and other lone passerby who shared the sidewalk with you. a peaceful time of stressful pacing, for many a person walking the streets so late at night. 

the bear was an elegant place, with a contemporary touch to the furnishings and finishings that you could see from the outside itself. you stepped inside, warm smells of food filling your nostrils and teasing your tastebuds.  

it was beautiful, the ambiance had an aura that screamed both family and stress. but such was to be expected from a place that was aiming for a michelin star. you spotted where staff filtered in and out from the front of house and back of house and was beginning to make a line towards it when you were stopped by a very tall man— in his forties most likely— standing behind a lectern at the front who slid his hand between you and your goal. he wore a crisply pressed, all black suit and a buzz cut. “reservation ma’am,” he asked, a cocked brow as he took in your simple attire. you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of your sweatpants and plain shirt; probably stained as well. “ah— well, i’m friends with sydney,” you reply, hoping it gets you past him. he doesn’t seem to be budged and you get nervous, even a little pissed from the way he’s looking at you. you’re a decent height, but he’s tall. that makes you shift on your feet. “i moved in next to her uh, friend-slash-buisness partner-slash-executive chef? does that— does that ring any bells?” you add on, shrugging. the big puffer you have on probably is not helping your case. “uh-huh.” he nods over another waitstaff, whispers in their ear and sends them off. you two then stand there for a bit, his blue eyes seeming staring directly into you and you shuffle a bit on your feet. you introduce yourself, guessing that maybe reducing the barrier of strangers would ease the tension of this encounter. telling him your name, you hold your hand out. he looks at it then back up to your face before taking it with a grip like iron. “richard. richie. nice to meet yo’.” “nice to meet you too, richie.” you nod shake his hand. at that moment the wait staff is back and whispers again in richie’s ear. he nods and they go back onto the floor and richie nods towards the back. “guess you’re free to go sweetheart.” he gives you a wink as you pass and you give him a scrunched up side eye. what a weirdo. the kitchen is fast. fast isn’t even the best way to describe it. just standing in the doorway had your palms itching to jump in and help, although you wouldn’t be much help, being a preschool teacher. a waiter was coming at you in long strides, an expensive dish in their hands and you immediately stepped to the side, not wanting to be the cause for someone missing their meal. you spot sydney, at the front of the line and constantly spewing out order after order after order, each one responding with a, “yes chef!” from the cooks in the kitchen. 

suddenly another chef bursts into the kitchen from the front and his pale brown hair is flying at the ends, although it looks like he’d tried to slick it back it obviously failed; his eyes are a striking blue and widened, the irises eating away the white sclera. but even though he seemed a tad shorter than you, he was pretty fuckin’ cute. that was, until, he opened his mouth and his voice climbed to a screaming spiel at sydney and anyone who was around, really. rounding the large table of food and preparation in the middle of the kitchen, he grabbed two trays and shoved them at the waitstaff. while you didn’t understand most of it, kitchen lingo was incredibly confusing— why was everyone chef? how do you know who was talking to who?— you could tell that he was practically bursting in anger, the bridge of his nose bunched up with the t-zone of his face. 

it was a sight really. a perhaps five seven man in a pressed white chef outfit screaming like all hell was breaking loose. maybe a little scary, but you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. from whatever dramas you’ve seen on chef life and the such— take marco pierre white, for example— head chefs were incredibly demanding, seemingly downright arrogant.

you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, being a prime target for your un-chef-liness in the midst of a busybodied kitchen, so you ducked into what looked like an office, one wall plastered with a ceiling-to-floor bookshelf and a framed picture of a baseball stadium. hopefully you were safe in here. you sighed. 

but it turns out you weren’t, because that same short angry chef came barreling into the office area and stopped short when he spotted you, the scream dying on his tongue. there was the thick and familiar air of awkward tension and you fiddled with the material in your pockets, swallowing. “hello.” you break in and he blinks. his eyes are huge, you realize. “are you— are you going to yell at me too?” “uh. i’m– i’m sorry, wh—” he replies, brows furrowing as he looks you up and down.  “CARMY!” sydney followed in closely after the chef, cutting him off. she looked at you, doing a short double take before looking back at— carmy? “can you just— can you calm down? you’re scaring everyone again.” she sighed, obvious exasperation on her face. it flicked a switch in carmy and he turned to her, all the anger filling his features in an instant. “no syd, the fucking fish is cold again. we have a vip up there and the fish is cold and—” he was like a candle wick, you realized. exploding now and then in violent, flashing flames, only to get doused out with a simple thing or the other. 

this time it was sydney circling her heart with a closed fist. and he stuttered, swallowing harshly before doing the getsure back to her. “i’m sorry.” she says, “i was caught up again and it all got fucked. i’ll fix it.” unsure of what to do, you debated doing it too. but maybe that would be weird. so you instead shoved your hands deeper in your pocket and thinned your lips. “uh. sorry,” you shot a look to carmy. “should i go?” you asked sydney. “i thought you guys were uh. done so i like— came over here.” 

sydney chuckled lightly, though it sounded more tired than anything. “no, no you’re fine. it’s just the dinner rush. it’s dying out, the kitchen closes in like— fifteen minutes. i didn’t realize you’d get here so quickly.” “well, it’s like a five minute walk, so.” you explain. “i would’ve hung out with red,” you joke. sydney grins. “yeah, he would’ve liked that a lot more.” “okay, who is this?” carmy interjects, hands splayed in front of him as if he tried to physically stop the conversation between you and sydney. your friend nodded as if to say oh yeah, and gestured to you, telling carmy your name. “she’s the one who moved across from you. that’s why i asked you for that apartment information.” 

he just nods, then hands you another look before turning on his heel back into the kitchen. 

sydney watches him walk away and then turns to you. she shrugs in apology and you dismiss it with a wave. “i’m. so sorry. i genuinely thought you’d take longer. just… hang out in here, i guess.” you laugh and take a seat— gingerly— in the office chair. “yeah, i’ll just hang out in here.” sydney nods then jets back to the chaos that is the kitchen after flashing you another one of her signature smiles. thank goodness you’d downloaded that mind-numbing mobile app on the flight here.

-- you could hear the unwinding of the kitchen from the office. it was evident; the defeated hiss of fired pans falling into a sink, stoves clicking off, and the urgent yells of the staff had reduced to inaudible chatter. carmy walks back into the office, and he seemingly forgot you were there, from the way he stopped in his tracks and blinked at you. he was no longer in a chef uniform, eight sets of buttons across his chest were swapped out for a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that were too tight around his calves. the shirt also was fitted around his chest despite the bagginess it held around the rest of his frame. did he have a thing for too-tight clothes? you looked up, and immediately stood from the chair, apology written across your face. “ah. sorry. syd said i could wait in here after… all that.” “yeah, no no, it’s… it’s fine. i just need, uh,” he pointed to the jacket hanging on the seat of the chair. the one you’d been half sitting-slash-leaning on, and had noted mentally that it was a pretty ugly shade of brown. “oh. yeah.” you fumble the pickup, fumble the fucking delivery, but the jacket ends back in carmy’s hands and he slides it on. only then you realize he had tattoos. all over his arms.

you’d always wanted a tattoo, maybe one of red. you’d seen other dog obsessed people on tiktok get tattoos of their dog’s paws and noses. carmy’s ink peered out from his jacket, littering his left hand in numbers and other stray marks. you sort of stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do until he speaks, “are you um— you’re sydney’s friend?” he asks, blinking voraciously. you nod. “yeah. that’s me.” theres a bit of a chuckle to it, in the hopes of the labored tension between you two will dissipate.

unfortunately it doesn’t. 

you’d heard many things about this guy, everything but his name, surprisingly. sydney had raved about him being named the ‘best chef’ in the ‘best restaurant’ in america. in socal, with the budget you had, the best you’d get was souplantation. it’s a shame they shut down. 

maybe he should win an award for most awkward man ever, you thought with a bitter edge, swallowing hard. “are you going to the bar too?” you ask. he seems almost surprised you decided to continue to talk to him and he looks behind him then back to you in rapid succession. “oh. yeah. just for, for a few.” he replied. you nod back, and jump at this newfound opportunity. “how far is it?” “huh? oh, like, a ten minute drive.” carmy responds, taking out a rung of car keys from his left pocket. perfect. you think. “do you think—” you begin, on the path to ask him for a ride, maybe you’d break the awkward silence between you two and you’d be friends. but it never happened on account of sydney walking back into the office, changed into her large trench coat and grins at you as she calls your name. “you ready? we’ll take the subway,” she nods to the door, and waits as if you were to follow. you sigh internally. oh well. maybe he’d drink enough and they’d loosen up and you could ask him if his name was really carmy and why the hell he was so mad earlier. you side step carmy with a muttered, “excuse me”, and follow sydney out the back and around the corner and to the subway. —

the bar is quaint, some local pub with local teams and references plastered from wooden mahogany wall to wooden mahogany wall. it smells strongly of beer and grease, so thickly it lays gently on your tongue and makes you immensely hungry.

sydney walks to a table in the far right corner. a tall man and very short woman sit side by side, joking as the woman grins widely. a pudgy guy with a braid sits beside— great. richie is here too, you realize with sullen realization and swallow the sour bile in your throat. he just radiated a terribly immature aura. the other side of the table were four seats, the two on the right side filled by another tall man in a beanie and beside him sat carmy. you wonder in passing how he got here so fast. “sydney! you’re late,” richie booms, beer glass in his hand. the image is crude and you cringe by the slightest. sydney scoffs playfully, rolling her eyes. “shut the fuck up richie,” she retorts. you sit on the side next to carmy and sydney takes your right. he raises his hands in mock surrender, and passes two untouched beer glasses to you and sydney, you take it slowly. you hadn’t drank since— well, since you realized why lucas acted the way he did. so you held the beer glass between you hands on the table and watched the witty banter of the staff members unfold, so natural and so familial it felt warm and fuzzy— for lack of a better, less cheesy term— in the deepest parts of your heart.

but it was broken, momentarily, by carmy standing up in a bit of an abrupt manner and muttering something along the lines of “smoke break,” and you watch him leave with some sadness. he hadn’t talked much, during the whole show, whenever he did it was a sideish chuckle or a shut the fuck up to richie. a lot of people were saying that, you realized. the break let everyone take a hearty swig from their glasses, and the silence brought the attention to you. tina— the short woman with an underlying spanish accent— asked you where you were from. “california,” you replied. “it fucking sucks out here,” you joke, and feel a sense of social accomplishment when the staff laughed alongside you. it grants you that moment of courage for you to take a sip of ‘liquid courage’. you hadn’t drank in so long. you were never a heavyweight, but the long gap between your last taste of spirit let the alcohol in the drink go immediately to your head and opened the metaphorical floodgates of your surprisingly dirty mouth and quick whips that were always the highlight of your college party experience. 

“so why’d you move out here, then, sweetheart?” [“you can’t just call people sweetheart, richie,” sydney scolded almost subconsciously, but was brushed off by richie with a wave.] you held the beer glass in both your hands, a brow lifting with the side of your mouth in a half-disgusted-half-scorned look. “um. california’s too fucking expensive?” you offer in a ploy to change the subject but he shakes his head as he follows through with his question, staring at you. “don’t believe that.” he retorted almost immediately in between a swig of beer. you glared at him. “okay, fucko. i needed a new job.” “and what are you?” “... a preschool teacher.” “not with that mouth!” ebra interjected with gibelike laughter, the other members of the beef chiming in. you had to admit, that was true. you’d always had a bit of a sailors tongue, something your fellow teachers berated you on during your days as a TA. 

“okay, okay, yeah, i have a filthy fucking mouth, but i’m still a preschool teacher.” you shrug, taking a sip with a snarky smile. “okay, but preschool teacher pay is worse in illinois.” richie pressed you. he knew there was something, you knew he wanted it out of you, like the nosy fuckin’ bitch he was. “okay, but—” “come on, what is it really?” he interrupted you with a plaguey tone of voice that made your stomach curdle and your mouth twist in an annoyed grimace. “you fuck the wrong principal? buy the wrong drugs? bad fuckin’ boyfriend?” when your grip on the glass tightens, the beer sloshing the sides at the miniscule impact, richie knows he’s won. and like the loud mouth he is, he makes it known. “oh HO, so that’s your fucking pandora’s box. come on, what kind of asshole was he? the tight assed asshole? the—” 

he doesn’t get a chance to finish because you slam your beer glass down onto the honey-washed wooden table and it spills, getting your hand and the sleeve of your puffer damp. you glare daggers into richie, the familiar javelin of rage fitting in your chest almost familiarly. “do you fucking mind? ever hear of privacy, you washed up gossip whore?” you damn near snarl, shoving the chair back as you stand and cock your head to one side. the bar had quieted; curious, nosy bystanders had taken an interest in the sudden spike of aggression and noise that radiated from you. sydney gingerly tried to lay a hand on your arm, but you pulled away from her as the pressure fell on your bicep. you didn’t mean to snap at her, but as of that moment, you’d snap at anyone. you felt cornered, like a wild animal being poked through the bars of a cage by jeering children. the teeth in your jaw ground together, and you pushed the chair back further with your legs to untangle yourself from the situation, taking long, deliberate strides to the back door, the one carmy had gone through. shoving through the heavy metal door, it didn’t take you long to find carmy. he stood a few paces away from the door, under a flickering street lamp that flirted with various winged insects. it splayed over him, illuminating the chef in harsh yet complementary light.

he looks almost surprised you’re there, a cig pursed in his lips, the case in one hand with the lighter in the other. “uh. hey,” he nods to you. was it routine for these awkward silences to find a home between you two? you nod back, the flush in your cheeks hopefully falling out. then you nod to the cigarette case in his hands. “enough to share?”

–

you two stand; around a foot or two apart, cigarettes in your mouths. one looked up and the other looked down. the sky was shittily pretty, you noted. city pollution obstructed the sight of any stars, but the neon glows of various billboards and street signs rose into the air and tinged the edges of the purple-black canvas. 

you exhaled heavily, the smoke burning your nostrils on the way out. it’d been, what— two, three months?— since you’d “quit” smoking. it didn’t fit with the whole preschool teacher-esque you needed. but tonight was just getting worse and worse and you wanted to go bash your head against the brick alleyway until god herself would come down and take you away. “richie?” he speaks, and it startles you. the cig nearly falls from your mouth, but you take it away between your index and middle finger. you look back at him, blinking then nodding slowly. he nods back in acknowledgement. “what uh– what he’d do now?” “other than be a big fucking nosy bitch, nothing, really.” you reply, taking a long drag on the cigarette, the spike in your ribs chipping away with each wash of nicotine. 

carmy makes an o with his mouth and nods again. he looked like a bird, you realized. but not in a bad way, or anything. like a flighty falcon, the kind you saw on those nature rehabilitation shows on animal planet. you just needed to hold them the right way, maybe say the right cooing words. maybe find something in common if you did that right.  you give a slight look to him from the side. the cigarette was cushioned in his lips, and while they weren't very large, from here alone you could tell they were plush pink and soft, from curve it held around the butt of the cig.

“why’d you come out then?” he asks another question, snapping you out of your creepy lip-admiration. the fact that he was asking you more questions made you think this was either progression or unsettling, but it was hard to decide. you shrug in response, however. “i was hungry, actually. burned my mac and cheese.” there was another few moments of silence, filled only with the city life of chicago and your noisy exhale, blue gray smoke tendrils curling in the air.

“i could make you somethin’.” he offers, his voice nonchalant and passive, even though his big fuckin’ eyes stared at you like he was some lost puppy.

it was kind of endearing, actually. no one had ever cooked for you. why'd it make your chest tighten pleasingly?

you laugh. “sure. one day, when you can, neighborly favor of sorts if you’re into that.” you jest, unaware he was being serious. you take another lung filling puff of the cigarette, nicotine thick in your senses. “chicago cigarettes are strong,” you remark.

he nods. “like em’ better than the new york ones.”

you raise your brows in acknowledgement. he swallows some air, not for the cigarette, you realize as he begins to speak.

“i was, uh, being serious, by the way. i fucking hate mac and cheese.”

you grin, looking over at him, the dim glow of the cigarette hanging from your lip. “me too.”

...

for more / updates go check out my ao3 !

[collecting-stories]

Blueberry BBQ - Carmen Berzatto

Request: no.

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

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

The Bear Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunday night dinner?” Syd echoed.  

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

“It’s uh,”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a bust.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you making?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marcus’ roommate?” Carmy almost laughed.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright…if you let me try the soup.”  

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

Carmy nodded, grinning, “yeah alright.”  

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

- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah if it’s good,” he joked.  

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s your recipe.”  

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

“Apple?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry I-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mcondance]

insomnia ; carmy berzatto

‘still midnight, again insomnia’

nights like these were harder when you weren’t around. carmy hates to think about what he’d do if you weren’t here.

and he doesn’t have to, cause your lips are on his and his hands are gripping and grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer to him. on your sides, you have to tangle your legs together to get as close as you both want, a never-sated need growing stronger as you curl naturally into each other.

pulling away, you cast your loving eyes over his face, his eyes heavy and curls messy, framing his face so pretty, even in the low light. he’s the first to connect your lips again, kissing you firm and wanting. you feel his hands start to wander, one moving down and one moving up, both headed towards separate goals.

his familiar hands find your leg that’s thrown over his waist and your cheek to rub softly, adoringly. he’s in love.

“you’re so beautiful,” carmen whispers, and his hand on your leg moves to your other cheek, your face cradled between his big hands.

you smile, wrapping your hand around his wrist, moving to kiss his hand and then him again. “so are you.”

and carmen smiles, really smiles, his cheeks heating up and body buzzing with the way you make him feel at home, make his mind slow down and his heart stop aching.

closer still he moves, eyes fixed on your slick and parted lips as you nod. he closes the gap this time, kissing you soft and slow. it’s desperate, and lovesick, and he’s calm now, and the heaviness of sleep is fading into the corners of his mind. seconds fade into minutes, and you both don’t even care how long it’s been, the concept of time the farthest thing from your minds.

you kiss and pull away, kiss more and then separate again, and each time your lips connect again, carmy feels himself sink away from whatever was causing him to stay awake.

he pulls away and his eyes say what his mouth doesn’t have to. smiling, you place a kiss on his nose and another on his cheek.

“you okay?” you ask.

“yeah. i’m okay now.”

your body heats up and you gaze at him with a look he knows so well. “good.” is all you say. you yawn dramatically, stretching your arm up and huffing out a laugh when carmy catches your arm and kisses your hand like you did to his earlier.

you tilt him toward you with your wrist still in his grip, and he finishes your movement, resting his head on your chest, sighing at the feel of your fingers threading into his curls.

nights like these were hard when you weren’t around. he finds peace with you, cause they don’t have to be anymore.

[thebearer]

Going into the restaurant when you and Carmy have only been dating for a few weeks. You weren't trying to visit him, you just like the pasta. He spots you and asks why you didn't tell him you were coming.

"I don't want to bother you at work"

"Next time, bother me."

"next time bother me" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

i would fall HARD. if we hadn't said i love you, i would've that night lol.

i can only imagine his confusion, seeing you and your friends. he hadn't really told anyone, not even richie or sugar or sydney, that he'd been seeing you. ever the secretive person, he nearly falls out when he does see you. when he hears your name on richie's sheet, telling your order.

"i'm sorry," you squeak, a little blushy and bashful when he comes out to see you. "i don't... i didn't mean to be stalker-y. it's my friends birthday, and the pasta is so good." you blink up at him. "didn't mean to bother you."

"you're not bothering me." carmen shakes his head. "never, but next time, bother me. make sure you get the best seat in the house."

he goes out of his way to have marcus put a candle in the cake, really does everything up. always peeking through the window to see your reaction to the food, blushing when your gaze meets his.

"cousin," carmen stops richie. "hey, uh, table nine. there's- don't give them a ticket. no ticket on them."

"why?" richie frowns. "they complain or somethin'? did you mess somethin' up-"

"-no, it's not- no." carmen runs a hand over his face, hoping he's hiding his blush. "that's, uh, that's- i've been seeing the girl on the end." richie nearly breaks his neck turning to look, eyes wide in shock.

"don't fuckin' make a big deal about it, alright?" carmen hisses. "but, i-i can't charge her, y'know? be jagoff of the year if i charged her at my own restaurant."

"yeah you would be." richie snorts. "i got you, cousin." he pats carmen's shoulder, shaking his head as he voids the check. "can't believe you didn't tell me. i knew, i fucking knew something was going on, ya know? natalie thought you finally got medicated or somethin'."

screaming. screaming. screaming.

i might have to do a full work on this, it gave me the butterflies.

[girly-blogging]

love how every fanfic on tumblr paints carmy as the greatest pussy eater of all time even though it’s canon that has never had a girlfriend

[ariisheresstuff]

Tough Day

Pairings: Carmy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Today was just exhausting for you, you had a very stressful day. The only thing you wanna do right now, is be in the arms of your loving boyfriend.

Genre: Comfort

Warnings: Crying, stressed reader, cursing

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! Have a good day! <3

You let out a big sigh once you parked in front of your shared home. Today was probably the most exhausting day you had and all you wanted was to go to bed and cuddle with Carmen. You’re boss was being the biggest dick of all time and taking all his anger on you. You couldn’t hold your emotions in anymore. You grabbed your bag and got out of the car before closing the door and walking up to the front door of the house. You felt your eyes burning from the tears coming. You heard the sink running and plates being clattered, you took off your shoes and hanged up your coat and placed your bag on the floor before locking the door.

“Baby? That you?” Carmen called out making you feel more emotions.

“Y-yes, Carmy, it’s me.” You said through the lump in your throat. You walked into the kitchen seeing your boyfriend putting away dishes while something was cooking on the stove like always. Carmen put down the plates he was putting away as he turned to face you giving you a smile. He walked over to you as he wrapped his arms around you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him tightly. Needing a hug from your lover. That’s when the tears fell and your shoulders started to shake. Carmen frowned.

“Aw babe, what’s wrong? What’s got my baby so upset?” Carmen cooed as he cupped your face to have you look up at him as he jutted his lip out looking at your broken face. He placed kisses on your forehead before wiping away your falling tears. You sniffled as he cradled your head while swaying you two back and forth as he quietly shushed your cries.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He said in your hair making you close your eyes before sighing.

“I just had the worst day ever at work. It was exhausting and my boss was up my ass today being the dick he is to me. I-I just can’t handle it Carmy, it’s too much for me. I’m always expected to do everything a-and it’s draining me.” You said through a broken sob as more tears came down making Carmen frown more.

“Baby… I’m sorry you had a shitty day, you don’t deserve that. None of that. Hell, you want me to have a chat with this boss of yours? I’ll kick his ass for you, probably cut his dick off as well.” Carmen said as he cracked his knuckles jokingly. You giggled through your tears making Carmen smile at you.

“There’s my girl. But baby, I really think you should take some time off of work. You’re always on the go and I don’t wanna see you blow yourself to the limit.” You have Carmen a serious face as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“B-but Carm, I have so much things to do with my role and-

“I don’t care, we’ll get it done together. You need time for yourself, for us. You need to take some to relax and enjoy yourself for a while. Okay? For me at least?” Carmen said softly as he ran his fingers through your hair was pecking the side of mouth.

You took one of his hands as you traced the tattoos and slightly pecked each knuckle. You finally looked up at your lover with a smile before nodding making Carmen smile more. He cupped your neck to bring you closer to him for a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying this moment as you sighed lovingly. Carmen wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you more close. He sighed as the two of you pulled away for air but not for your lips to stop touching. He rested his forehead on yours, you two stayed like this for a few seconds enjoying this moment.

“You wanna watch a movie and cuddle while dinner is cooking? I’m making your favorite by the way.” Carmen whispers in your jut making you jut your lip out.

“Of course I would babe. That’s all I wanted after work.” You said while kissing Camry’s face multiple times making Carmen chuckle before lifting you up in the air making you squeal.

“I don’t wanna hear any complaints later babe.” Carmen said as he placed you down on the couch hovering over you with a smirk. You smirked back before yanking the collar of his sweatshirt down to you as you giggled.

“Oh, there won’t be any complaints at all babe.” You said with a tease making Carmen raise an eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s that a promise?” He said as he ran his hands down your body.

“A big promise.” You whispered in his ear making him chuckle before getting handsy with you.

The night ended with some steam ~

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[fooled-around-and-fell]

A Romantic

summary: carmen sees how surprisingly romantic richie is towards his girl, and decides that he wants to be like that for his girl, too.

genre: fluff

warnings: cursing

Masterlist

-----

"aw, baby," richie's girl squeals in joy when richie surprises her with yet another bouquet of flowers. it was only yesterday when richie got her a bouquet of flowers just as big.

"only the best for my lady," he tips his non-existent hat and speaks in a british accent. "now, shall we head to the restaurant? I believe we have a reservation in... 15 minutes."

linking her arm gleefully, they both walked down the road to the fancy restaurant that just opened nearby.

"wow." syd chuckles. "who knew richie could be so..."

"i know i hate to say it..." you sigh and share a look with her.

"romantic."

carmen overhears your conversation and his ears perk up.

"it's a little much," syd says, "that bouquet of flowers was bigger than her own head."

you laugh, "yeah it is a little much. i wouldn't say no to flowers though."

"of course not. when was the last time carmen got you flowers like that?"

laughing again, you shake her off. "our relationship is not like that-"

not like what? carmen frowns.

"-you mean he's not like that." syd smirks. "you know you want flowers."

you send her a look. "syd, come on. sure, they're beautiful, but i don't need to be given flowers. i like my quality time with carmen."

syd chuckles, "i know what you mean! i do. but like you said, you wouldn't say no to flowers, right?"

"...no."

carmen walks away from your private conversation, his frown staying. he needs to step up his game.

-----

one night, you're home first before carmen. he said he needed to close, so he'll be late but will still have dinner together with you. so after work, you stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things, and now you just got back, ready to prepare dinner for the both of you.

only... when you enter your shared apartment, carmen is lighting candles on your dining table. two delicious looking plates of food are already served, and the only thing missing is the two people in love.

"carmen... what's all this?" you ask with an amused smile.

he shrugs. "wanted to surprise you."

you hung your coat on the rack and walk towards him. "i'm definitely- oh!"

carmen pulls out a bouquet of flowers from his back and almost hit your nose in the process. "sorry."

laughing, you take the flowers and kiss him. "thank you. they're beautiful."

"you're beautiful." he whispers before kissing you again.

"what's the special occasion?" you ask while he pulls out your chair for you. "are we celebrating something?"

"nope," carmen says, "just wanted to do something nice."

your eyes squint for a moment but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the evening with your boyfriend.

you don't realize that last night's gestures happened because carmen had overheard your conversation with syd. then you wake up the next morning with carmen bringing over breakfast with more flowers and you know something's not right.

"come here," you pat the spot next to you and he sits.

"what's wrong?" he asks, "did you want waffles instead of pancakes-"

"carmen, what's going on, really?"

he shrugs, acting like he has no idea what you're on about.

"candle-lit dinner last night, and now breakfast in bed?" you ask.

"like i said, i just wanted to do something nice for you, babe."

you raise your brow at him, signaling that he can't fool anyone, and he finally breaks.

"fine." he sighs, "i... heard you talking to syd the other day. about richie being all romantic to his girl and i don't know... it sounded like you'd appreciate it if i could be more romantic, so.."

he started mumbling and rambling and you find it so cute.

"aw, carmy." you chuckle and caress his cheek. "you are romantic. not in the way richie is, but you are."

he rolls his eyes, "sure."

"i'm serious." you say. "who folds back all of the clothes i try on and off before going to work even when i told you i'll do it later?"

carmen glances at you. "i do?"

"you do." you confirm. "you know what else you do? you always put notes on my lunch box. you always check whether my plants need to be watered or not -- and you water them if they need to be! you also always offer to get the groceries, and when you do you always get my favorite ice cream even when i didn't ask for it."

"you know when i had a bad day, and you know exactly how to cheer me up. you're always there for me, even when i'm angry at you." you continue, "you are romantic, carmen. very, very much so. not in the way richie is, but i don't want that anyway. i want your version of romance."

"that's really cheesy, you know." carmen smiles while listening to your words.

"sue me."

he moves the breakfast tray to the nightstand and kisses you passionately. he makes you lay back on the bed and hands you your phone.

"might wanna tell work you're gonna be late today."

[leviathanspain]

part 2 of i wanna be your please 😭 i need to know they’re together 😭

just wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

part 2 to i wanna be yours

synopsis: men being men.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it all happened so fast.

the restaurant had been closed for the night, everyone but carmy and richie had left, even you after you had tried to quit. claire had made it in by knocking on the window, catchin richie’s attention as he counted the drawer.

“claire.” he greeted her, slightly distracted, “cousin’s in the back.” he signaled to the kitchen and claire passed through, finding the office door wide open, only seeing the yellowing light’s reflection.

“carm?” she called out, and heard some rustling in dry storage. she neared it and found carmen frantically counting the inventory.

claire laughed slightly, “isn’t that someone else’s job? i’ve been waiting for you to get off for almost an hour, i called you so many times earlier-“

carm blinked, “yeah, i saw.” he rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on his count.

claire scoffed, “you saw them and didn’t pick up? why are you even doing this, it’s someone else’s job, carmy-“

it was like something had finally clicked, “i know it’s someone else’s job, claire! it’s y/n’s job but she tried to quit and i told her no so i’m doing it because i felt bad!” he shouted, clearly frustrated with claire yapping at him.

he was met with utter silence.

claire stared at him in disbelief, “she tried to quit and you didn’t let her?” she repeated his words and carmy nodded, “why, carm? because she doesn’t remember being rude to me and suddenly i’m the bad guy?” claire had remembered their argument from before, where carmy confronted her tales to be lies.

carmy shook his head, “no it’s not that.” he scoffed, and claire laughed, “what else could it be then? hmm?”

carmy shrugged, unable to believe what he was about to say, “i like her. i like having her around, i like who i become when she’s working. im sorry if i don’t want one of my employees to quit.” he threw in that last sentence in hopes to save himself but claire saw right through him.

“you didn’t even hire her, carmy.” but she didn’t linger to argue, taking in her defeat as she strode past him to exit through the back.

carmy blew out a breath of air as he continued his count, repeating the number he had left on in his head as she spoke.

“carmen.” it was the end of another successful night. you had thought about talking to him, mulling it over with sydney who had encouraged you to talk to carmy, especially with what had happened last night.

carmy had been sitting outside, his pack of cigarettes slowly dwindling through the night. he could blame it on the stress of the restaurant, but he knew it had all to do with breaking up with claire that morning. he tossed and turned until the sun rose, in which he called her to break whatever it was off.

“y/n.” carmy turned to see you, scooting down the concrete step to make some room for you. you sat down, thanking him quietly. he offered you a cigarette but you shook your head, pausing before you spoke.

“did you figure out why you don’t want me to quit?” you smirked at him, a devious smirk as if you were sure he had a good reason. perhaps you were too valuable, too skilled…

“no.” there was something different about him. an air that you hadn’t noticed before.

you grazed his shoulder, “what’s wrong?” you should’ve asked him this earlier, clearly he had been off all night. he had messed up a few orders before they even went out.

carmy shrugged, “claire stopped by.” he whispered, and by the furrow in his brows, you could sense something was wrong.

“are you alright?” you didn’t know how to comfort him, youve never had a boyfriend so you couldn’t help through self experience.

he nodded, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, “yeah. yeah.” he sounded far away, as if he was thinking about something else as he spoke.

there had been a mutal silence between you, until you called his name. he stared at your face, as if taking in all your features. “i’m- imma start heading out.” you broke yourself out of every little thought involving carmy and your tongue, blinking as you stood up.

carmy nodded, not turning as he waved goodbye.

carmy stared at the ground. a week since he and claire had decided go on a break, and a week of cigarette conversations with you. you had picked up smoking, after spending so much time with him after a shift, it had become second nature.

“carmy.” he had gotten a little loud with you earlier, and he hadn’t expected you to talk to him at all, let alone come out here.

he stood up, turning as he found you outside with him. he sighed, “i’m so sorry about-“ he shook his head in shame, his hand balling into a fist of frustration. you put a hand on his chest, “don’t worry about it, carm.” you could feel the thumping of his heart, frantic and full of anxiety, “i forgive you.”

carmy leaned into your touch. his heart had stopped thumping so hard and now settled at a good resting rate. but your hand hadn’t left his chest, your eyes lingering on his face as your mind played out all your fantasies.

sydney spent the majority of her shift convincing you that carmy had a thing for you. you had denied it hard until you found yourself daydreaming about it. now he was all you could think about.

yet you couldn’t do it.

you wanted to kiss him, feel his body on top of yours, tasting his sweet taste.

but he was your boss.

and just a month ago, he hated you.

carmy couldn’t do it anymore. you were standing there, as if waiting for him to kiss you.

then he did it. he kissed you, and for a moment he got scared until you reciprocated his kiss. you leaned into him, feeling his hands wander your back, trailing dangerously low.

you bit his lip slightly, before tugging on a curl of his hair. pulling away, you stared at him with dilated eyes. but something settled in his eyes.

claire.

he was on a break, this would be okay. wouldn’t it?

you shivered as you could see thoughts fluttering in his mind. he looked mesmerized after that kiss, but now it was regret.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered, “y/n, i-“ you didn’t let him finish as you stormed off, not back into the kitchen to finish the rest of your shift.

you wouldn’t listen to his rejection, not after everything.

sydney hadn’t expected you to answer. she had tried calling you five times over the weekend, and monday morning had rolled around and you still hadn’t come back to work.

carmy was a mess. all the emotions over you and claire were building up, and he was a ticking time bomb. “i already called her like seven times, cousin! fuck you want me to do?!” he yelled at richie, letting the office door slam behind him.

sydney tore her eyes away from the scene and faced the locker room walls, “y/n.” she spoke your name into the phone, and was met with silence.

“uh-“ she laughed nervously, “i hope everything’s okay. did you quit or?” her question dropped off and you pursed your lips on the other end, wondering what yoj would say.

“no.” the first word came to mind before you could even process, “i just need time. im sorry.” you hung the phone up before she could even say anything.

carmy knew your address from all the times he had walked you home. he lived far from your house, but never once did he object to take you home.

after days of radio silence, and officially breaking up with claire, he knew he had to make it right. apparently you weren’t quitting, and that was his sign to beg you to forgive him.

the knock at your door was the first thing to alert you. you stood up cautiously, you lived in a sketchy part of chicago, and you never knew what lingered in your building. you checked the peephole and saw him, face bowed as he waited.

you sighed, knowing he would be unavoidable.

“carmen.” you opened the door, holding it as you stared at him. he looked beautiful, cheeks red from the cold, but his eyes were bluer than ever.

he looked up as you had said his name, “y/n. can i come in?” he looked past you and into your apartment. he had never seen the inside, always opting to drop you off.

you stepped aside and he walked in. there was a coldness that you exchanged, letting the door slam behind him. he turned around and you crossed your arms, standing firm by the door.

“i-“ he began, “sydney told me you aren’t quitting.” you laughed slightly, of course she told him.

“yeah, well.” you shrugged, “i just said that so she would stop calling. i still haven’t made up my mind.” you admitted, brushing your arms gently, “you came here to what? tell me directly to my face that kissing me was a mistake? because i got that message already.” you wouldn’t tell him how you cried until your chest heaved, or how your neighbor knocked on your door to check on you, after hearing your cries. he had destroyed you, and yet you couldn’t be happier to see him.

but you played the bitter part, knowing he was bad for you made you want him even more.

carmy shook his head, “it wasn’t a mistake, y/n. it opened my eyes and made me realize that i want to kiss you, every waking moment for the rest of my life.” he panted, hands shaking as he brought them up to brush his hair out of the way, “i-“ he laughed, “im sorry. please,” he walked closer to you, “come back.”

you stepped closer to him, bridging the gap as you pulled him into you, resting your head on his shoulder, you stayed silent.

a moment passed and his hand reached up to gently brush your hair, a repeating motion as you stood there with him.