#jeremy allen white imagine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pearlzier · 2 months

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⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

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theonewiththefanfics · 7 months

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Robbery of a Heart (one-shot)

Synopsis: Robberies are never fun to deal with. Unless it's a certain chef that steals your heart. That is something that can be gotten behind. Real robberies - not so much.

Pairing: Carmen (Carmy; Bear) Berzatto x fem!Reader

Genre: primarily fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Warnings: robbery, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds, swearing, mentions of suicide, minimally edited

Word count: 4041

Calling in just a couple of hours before the opening shift where Y/N should be on her way to help out, was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, all she wanted was to make her coffee and have her usual bagel with cream cheese, tomatoes and basil before heading out the door and getting to The Bear. Instead, she was stuck in her apartment, with medics and police officers, as well as some concerned neighbours all around.

Y/N huffed, her leg bouncing up and down as the paramedic finally snipped the ends of the bandages and told her to take it easy for the next few days and to go to the hospital in a week’s time.

The clock glared at her from her peripheral, counting down the minutes to when her alarm would blare.

Fuck! Why the fuck did this have to happen on a night when she had a shift the next morning!?

She dragged a hand down her face when the cops and the medics finally left.

Mrs Hanover from the third floor gave her a tight smile. “You’ll be okay, sweetie?”

“I’ll be alright.” Y/N gave her an appreciative hug. “Thanks. Just – just gonna get some more rest.”

“You do that,” the older woman patted her cheek. With one more backwards glance and a reassuring wave from Y/N, her apartment was vacated.

Instantly, she latched the new locks, put the chain on and placed a chair underneath the door handle. No more surprises, not after that night.

Plopping herself down on the couch, Y/N craned her neck back and stared at the ceiling. It was still dark outside, as it usually was when she returned home and more often than not nowadays, when she left for work.

She’d just close her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

But the exhaustion and withdrawal from the adrenaline hit her like a brick, and, before Y/N knew it, she was out completely, even with the big living room lights still on. An hour and a half later though, she was startled by the tone of her alarm ringing from her room.

The panic from the sound was much like when she’d first heard the broken lamp smash to the ground earlier in the night. Y/N’s heart instantly picked up, a hot and cold wave rushing through her veins as she snapped her head from one side to the other, but when she noted the door was closed, the chair still tightly underneath it, checked the closed windows and surveyed her closet and bathroom for anyone who might be hiding inside, Y/N finally found her phone on the floor between the duvet and the cover, turning the alarm off.

Usually, it would take her an hour to get ready, but she knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate that day. Opening the screen, she went to her caller list and looked at the top number. One she’d called just that evening when entering her apartment before the big shitshow had gone down.

Y/N stared down at her phone, the name “Carmy :)” staring right back at her for like twenty minutes before she abandoned the idea of contacting him. Maybe Sydney? But Syd would also flip her shit if she told what had happened. In the end, she settled on Richie. They had a sort of camaraderie going on, but he was the kind of person she knew would take Carmy’s well-being over hers. They butted heads, swore and almost beat up each other, but Y/N knew, Richie loved his cousin.

She let out a shaky breath as the tone beeped, and then finally, after an agonizing wait, she heard his gruff voice pick up with a “the fuck you want?”

“Hi Richie,” Y/N stuttered. “I - umm - I need to take today off.”

“Seriously, Y/N?” he scoffed. “Do you know what time it is?"

Her breathing was stuttered. “I just – I – shit!” she dragged a hand down her face. “Richie please, just do me a solid, okay? Just tell Carmy I’m sick, and I need today off.”

“Well, you don’t sound fucking sick, so might telling me why you actually need today off?”

Y/N worried her lip before saying, “You have to promise me you won’t tell Carmen this.”

For a moment, it got very quiet on Richie’s end. She heard some shuffling and then a door thudded closed. He was probably in the freezer.

“Why don’t you want me telling cousin why you’re not coming in?”

“Richie-“

“No,” he interrupted her. “You either tell me, or I’m coming over to yours.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, fine!” she huffed. “I - uh. I sort of got robbed last night, well, this morning, I guess.”

“You got what?!”

“Richie!” she heard Carmy bellow from the other side of the phone even through the closed freezer door while she shushed the man.

“Please just don’t tell Carmen,” Y/N rushed out. “He’ll just worry himself sick, okay? I just need today off, and I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

“No,” Richie argued. “He has to know!”

“Please don’t! This is the last thing he needs, besides I’m alright, okay? The cops were here, the locksmith already changed the locks and added a chain as well. Just,” she let out a long sigh. “Just please have my back here. I’ll owe you one.”

“Fuck!” Richie kicked at something, and a bucket or whatever crashed in the background. “Fine. Fine! But are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said. “Just a bit shaken up. As I said – the locks have already been changed, so I’m good.”

There was indistinct grumbling from his side before Richie conceded. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Y/N released a big breath. “Again – I’m sorry. But I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

“Just – just take care of yourself, kid. I – shit! Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Richie,” and with that, the call disconnected.

But she wasn’t good. Not really. What she hadn't told Richie and why she’d begged him not to say anything to Carmen, was that during that robbery, she’d gotten injured.

The robber hadn’t thought she’d been home, that anyone was home, and usually, that was true, with Y/N staying way past closing time at The Bear, but Carmen had insisted she go home earlier and get a proper night's rest for once.

They’d had a scuffle, and the man had grabbed one of Y/N’s knives, swinging at her, cutting a large gash right on her forearm. Luckily, that had been the extent of her injuries apart from when he’d pushed her into the table while running away. But she knew, if Carmy saw the stitches, the bandages, he’d flip his shit.

Y/N sat back down on the couch.

What a fucking night that had been.

She barely had any energy to do the basic things like eat and drink water, and her arm had started to massively hurt, so cleaning up the mess left behind by the robber was a complete bitch. By the time noon came, and her stomach grumbled for some food, she could only pop in some toast and put some slices of cheese on top, not even bothering to grill it.

There was a flat bottle of Coke in the fridge, filling the glass only halfway, but Y/N didn’t have the strength for anything else. She just wanted to sleep and forget about what had happened, about the terror coursing through her veins when the man had tried to charge at her, whether to simply restrain her or… or something worse. About how had it not been for the cat living in the flat above which had gotten in through her open living room window from the fire escape and jumped and scratched at the intruder, Y/N would have never gotten the chance to make a run for it.

She’d been by the door when the unmistakable sound of the drawer being pulled open made her throw one glance behind her shoulder.

Usually, Y/N liked the gleams of her knives. She kept them polished, and sharp so that every cut, and slice, and stroke was perfect. But now, all she saw was a murder weapon. One that would end her life.

He charged at her again, and she’d ducked down, right arm raised in defence as the robber slashed. Then her neighbours broke down the door. The ones from two floors down while the robber pushed her into the side of a table, an edge hitting her gut hard enough to leave her in a breathless heap on the floor.

While she lay on the ground, coddling her wounds, Mrs Hanover, the one who’d heard the ruckus happening above her own living room, had rushed to get the burly couple for help, and stroked her back as they dealt with the intruder.

The two men restrained the robber. One of them was a personal trainer, the other a bodybuilder (it’s how they’d actually met and fell in love with one another), and sometimes Y/N would help them build meal plans and actually make them taste out new recipes. She’d never been gladder to have taken that one invite when she’d first moved in for a Friday wine night.

Mrs Hanover had called the cops and the medics, but no one left until the robber had been handcuffed and the paramedics had checked Y/N over. Then, it was back to their own beds.

Except the fear remained.

And the sudden knocks at the door in that moment, didn’t help either.

Her daydreaming had basically taken away her whole day, as she glanced at the window, and the sun was setting over Chicago.

With a groan and a pained hiss, Y/N got up from the couch.

It was probably the guys, coming to check on her.

But when she removed the chair and unlocked the door, the chain still on, she reminded herself to look through the peephole.

It wasn’t the guys from 2B. It was the last guy she wanted to see that day.

Carmy lifted his free hand, the other holding a takeout bag, and knocked again.

Y/N stood still behind the door, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

He shuffled around a bit, an unsure gaze thrown at the entrance.

“Leave,” she begged. “Please go, Carmy.”

Y/N didn’t have the energy, she didn’t want to tell him what’d happened. She hoped Richie hadn’t spilled the beans, but whatever he’d told Carmen, hadn’t been enough to stop him from worrying.

He raised his hand again and rapped it against the door. “Y/N?” this time he called out. “Richie told me you’re sick. Something about pneumonia or a lung infection?”

Of fucking course! Y/N cursed Carmen’s cousin. Pneumonia! Couldn’t he have told him she had a cold? Of course, pneumonia would send him running to hers. She thanked her lucky stars she’d changed into something with long sleeves to cover the bandages at least.

Y/N waited for a few more seconds before removing the chain and opening the door.

Carmy’s face pretty much lit up, a soft smile blooming on his lips as he looked at her.

“Hey, Y/N. You alright?”

“Hey, Bear.” She smiled back at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Richie is a fucking drama queen. I have the sniffles, not fucking pneumonia. You didn’t have to come running.”

Carmen simply shrugged. “Well, Richie seemed pretty worried. And I brought some food.” He raised the paper bag where a delicious scent wafted from, and not only did Y/N’s nose agree, but so did her stomach, eliciting a loud rumble. Carmy smiled upon hearing that. “Thought you might not have the energy to cook.”

Oh, he had no idea.

She sighed and rubbed at her neck, giving him a tight-lipped grimace, she hoped passed for a smile. “Thanks, Bear.”

As Carmy lifted the bag for her to take he paused, not letting go even when Y/N had grabbed the handle.

“I do have a question though – why did you unlock the door, but not let me in?”

Busted. So fucking busted.

“Umm,” she stammered while Carmen started to take steps closer to her, Y/N retreating inside her apartment as he followed. He closed the door with a small thud.

“In fact,” he placed the bag on the floor, crossing his arms. “I think what Richie and, in turn what you said to him, is complete and utter bullshit. You’re not sick. But something is very wrong.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head automatically. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just as I said – Richie is too dramatic for his own good.”

Carmen let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what kind of an idiot you take me for, but I know you. And I can see in your face, that something is amiss, so just please,” now his voice was pleading, eyes begging. “Please tell me what is going on with you? I was worried sick today, thinking that maybe you needed to go to the hospital, but no one was there for you. So, please, Y/N…”

And the way he said her name, so full of desperation, of care, she almost caved, but no. She couldn’t possibly put that sort of stress on him.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“No, you’re not, I can see it in your face. Please, Y/N,” and then he made a mistake.

He grabbed at her forearm, and before she could move it away from his touch, his roughened palm had wrapped around the wound. The squeeze was meant to be comforting, but in that moment, it was anything but.

Y/N whimpered in pain, and the second the sound came out of her mouth, Carmy took a horrified step back. And just her luck as well – she’d started bleeding through the bandages and the sweatshirt, which he obviously noticed.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “I cut myself really bad, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” his words were snappy. “You don’t cut yourself like that unless you’re running around and tripping with a knife or deliberately do such a thing.” Something flashed in his eyes, and Y/N didn’t like that look one bit. “Or unless someone else cut you.”

She scoffed, taking a step back and casting her eyes to the ground. “It was an accident, okay? Needed to get some stitches, which is why I asked Richie to tell you I’d be out today. I didn’t know how long it would take in the ER.”

Carmy’s steps came closer, as he tried to take her palm, but Y/N wrapped her uncut arm around the bicep of her other one, turning her head to the side so as to not look at him.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Carmen’s voice was soft. “Please don’t do that, okay? I’m worried. What happened?”

“I told you, -,”

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You lied to me, and I’d like to know why. I’d also like to know why you made Richie lie -”

“I got robbed, okay!?” the words exploded out of her mouth before she could push them behind her teeth.

That made him take a physical step back, eyes instantly shooting around to survey her apartment. She was a messy person as is, but there, by the corner where the fridge was, was the chair she’d rested against the door, and still on the ground pieces of broken glass shone when looking at it from an angle, and oh god, she’d forgotten to clean up all the blood, some of the droplets having dried down to a russet tone, like a dalmatian’s spots on the white tiles.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he seemed genuinely hurt when he finally spoke up. “Did you, what? Think I’d make you come in?”

“Of course not! I didn’t want this reaction though! I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Of course, I’m gonna worry! God, even if you have a stupid fucking cold I’m gonna worry!”

“Well, don’t! I’m fine!”

“You were injured!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I get cut at work all the time.”

“No, you got cut by someone who intended to do you harm. What if it was worse?” Carmen’s breath got stuck in his chest. “What if he’d hurt you worse? I – I can’t –,”

“But he didn’t okay?” Y/N softened her tone, seeing a wave of panic rush over Carmy. “He didn’t, alright. Yes, I have a few stitches now, and will probably have a long scar, and it hurts like an absolute bitch, but he didn’t hurt me any worse than that.”

“Yes, but what if he had?” Carmy took her by the shoulders. “What if you had ended up with your head hurt? What if he’d stabbed you? What if,” he choked on his words, silver slowly lining the bottom of his eyes. “What if you ended up dead?”

That made Y/N shut up completely, her lips pressed hard in a thin line.

She knew about Michael. Of course, she did. She knew, he’d left Carmy The Beef after he’d committed suicide, and how many internal scars Carmen had because of it. Knowing she’d now added to that pain, made Y/N physically ill.

“Do – do you not trust me like that?” His thumbs gently brushed her biceps. “Just – I don’t –,” he took a moment and collected himself. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me you went through something like that…”

“Carmy, no!” She pulled him into a hug and felt his hands wrap tightly around her waist, anchoring himself to her, making sure she was safe and sound and alive. “I trust you, of course I do! It’s just… you already do so much for me… you already take care of me, like fucking now, bringing me food and shit. I don’t need you to worry for me like that any more than you already do.”

“And what if I want to worry about you?” he muttered the question into the skin of her neck, grip only tightening. “What if I want to spend my days thinking about if you’ve eaten, or how well you slept? If you’re doing okay or maybe need a break? What if I,” he pulled back, taking a deep breath. “What if I want to take care of you when you’re sick… or hurt? What if I want to try and make it better for you?”

He pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, and she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her from the bottom of his lashes – that fear and hesitation, that anxiety of being rejected or laughed at.

Y/N glanced down at his lips, brushing a thumb along the bottom one. “You uh – you want to worry like that about everyone? Or just… me in particular?”

She felt him release a stuttered breath before he whispered, “There is no one else but you.”

Now Y/N was the one whose breath hitched, especially as their eyes met, cerulean pools boring into her Y/E/C ones.

Her heart thudded hard against her ribs, and she was sure Carmy could feel its erratic rhythm where his chest was pressed tightly to hers. A soothing hand ran down her back and settled on the small of her waist.

And then she regretted it. All of it. For being so stupid and thinking she’d be burdening him with that information, for trying to reject his help, his care, because who the hell was she kidding – that moment when Y/N’d felt the knife split her skin open, the first person she’d thought of calling, the first person she knew would come running for her was Carmy.

Not the police, not the ambulance – but her sweet Bear.

His hand slipped up along her waist, brushing against her stomach and the side of her breast before settling and cupping her cheek, Carmy tilting her head so she looked at him.

It took the man a while to gather the courage to say the words, and he was full of nerves as he did so, Y/N had no doubts about that, but she pretty much thought she died when he said, “Can I kiss you?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could do was whisper a small, “Please,” before she was leaning in. Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate to respond, and they sunk into one another as their lips finally met.

Carmy was very mindful of Y/N’s injured arm, as he wrapped a hand around her waist and neck, holding her close to him, but not touching the wounded limb, while she put her hand against his chest, right in the centre, relishing the feeling of his heart thudding against it, loving the rhythm it beat in, as it sped up when she answered to his tongue’s question and she opened her mouth inviting it in. It was like her own tried to match the rhythm.

The kiss was searing, and filled with passion, months of pent-up pining finally put to rest from both ends, but also soothing. It was like coming home and being wrapped in a soft and warm blanket. Coming to her safe home. Finally.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, but not completely, Y/N having pretty much a death grip on Carmy’s shirt, and she didn’t know if she had the strength not to rip it off his chest, while his own hands had moved to cup her jaw, not letting her run away from the all-consuming kisses they’d shared.

She could feel he was hard, the prominent bulge in his jeans brushing against her thigh as they’d kissed, and Y/N couldn’t lie and say her own underwear hadn’t soaked the moment Carmy had moaned into her mouth, but she knew she wasn’t up for that. Not yet. And so did he, as his eyes jotted to the scarlet patch on the arm of the sweatshirt.

“Come,” he was breathing heavily, but a worried look had appeared on his face. “I’m gonna change your bandages, and then you’re gonna eat while I vacuum up the glass on the floor.”

“Carmy you don’t have to do that…”

His responding smile was soft. “And you said I could take care of you. So let me.”

On instinct, she wanted to argue but bit down on her lip. Maybe she deserved to be taken care of.

With expert skill, Carmy redressed the wound, placing the blood-soaked shirt in her dirty hamper while helping her get a new clean one on, and then the two settled on the same couch Y/N had spent her day, but not before, as he promised, he cleaned up the remaining glass, she hadn’t had the energy to.

Resting her forehead against Carmy’s chest as he ran a hand up and down her back was the most soothing notion Y/N knew. They stayed on the sofa like that for a while, no TV on in the background, no nothing, just the two of them, soaking up one another’s touch until a thought entered Y/N’s mind.

She snorted.

Carmen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Well, will you tell me anyway?” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I just,” Y/N huffed, twisting her head so she could look up at him. “I realized, you’re a better robber than whoever the fuck broke into my apartment.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, his gentle fingers brushing against her cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he didn’t even get to steal anything, and yet I let you in ,and you’ve already taken something. Or maybe I even gave it to you.”

“And what’s that?”

“My heart.”

And though it was terribly cheesy, Carmen didn’t dare laugh, not as a beautiful smile bloomed on his face, eyes filled with love. “I’ll keep it safe. If you let me, that is.”

“I trust you.”

“Thank you.” And the kiss he gave her was a seal of promise Y/N could feel in her very bones. She knew, though no longer hers, her heart would be safe with him. He wouldn’t break it.

And maybe she could allow this one robbery, as long as he took care of her like that.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: Please someone get me a Carmy :(

P.S. Carmen tags are open :)

P.S.S what did you think?

P.S.S.S. please don't repost or translate on other platforms!

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astermath · 11 months

Text

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then.

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top.

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.”

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes.

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know.

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground.

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing.

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm.

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?”

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.”

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least.

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!”

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool.

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.”

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work.

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating.

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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carni-val · 6 months

Text

When you know, you know [Carmen Berzatto]

pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

summary: Carmy has a problem saying I love you, but he's got no problem showing it.

warnings: Slight angst if you squint really hard, some fluff

author’s notes: Yeah, it's been a year since I've written something but my current hyperfixation on The Bear has really inspired me to write. Carmy's struggle with saying I love you is so real, but I sincerely feel he's an acts of service man. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you so much for reading!

She stood at the opening of the door, looking down on him. She worked a full shift and she was still as beautiful as when she woke up this morning. He, on the other hand, looked dishevelled; he was sure of it. His hair was all over the place from running his hands through the mass of curls with a thin sheen of sweat layered over his skin and he was still a little self-conscious about the smell of the restaurant that had clung to him upon his arrival, as Sugar mentioned earlier.

She didn’t seem to mind though as she knelt down on the floor beside him. Overdue invoices and notes scribbled down in his brother’s chicken scratch surrounded him on the office floor.

She was closer now, and yes, still beautiful.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” he couldn’t help but huff out a sigh.

Prepping the menu and serving it to all the customers was more than enough work for the day, especially with the disastrous system Richie insisted on upholding. The bed he’d been dreaming about collapsing into, beside her, seemed to get more and more distant with more of the shit he uncovered in the office. Who knew an office so small could have so much shit hiding in it?

“Still sorting, huh?” her eyes held sympathy for him, noticing how tired he looked.

“Still sorting,” he confirmed, his eyes softening when they met hers. “I think it’s gonna be another long night for me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Can I help?” she asked, already scanning the documents.

“No, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go home and go to bed?” he reached out and stroked her cheek with his hand, cupping her jaw with the palm of it.

She leaned into his touch, “You’ve had a long day too, and I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Let me help.” She settled down on the floor next to him. “What can I do?”

Carmy’s gaze lingered on her. If he thought about it all too long, he’d break down, he was sure of it, so he simply asked her to organize the overdue invoices — ones for the restaurant, ones for the inventory and so on.

“Yes chef,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Carmy felt the laugh escape him before shaking his head. He watched her for a moment.

He really—

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Maybe it was something to do with Donna, or the fact that he never really had a girlfriend before her, or because he still couldn’t figure out what the hell she was still doing with him.

His breath caught as he felt a twinge in his chest. He brought a hand up to soothe it and she looked over at him.

“Bear?” her warm hand reached up and pressed against his. “You okay?”

The concern in her eyes stole his breath but it soothed the ache in his chest. He felt a hint of embarrassment, desperately not wanting to have a panic attack in front of her. He didn’t want to scare her.

So he just nodded and let a smile stretch across his face, albeit tight-lipped.

She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push him. She just took his hand in hers and kissed his tattooed knuckles.

His smile cracked, revealing his teeth, and it was more genuine. She seemed convinced, releasing his hand and turning back to the work.

“You hungry? Can I make you something to eat?” he asked instead.

“I’m okay, I had a late lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’ll take me a minute.”

“I’m sure,” she smiled up at him. “I just wanna get this done so you can get to bed.”

Her hand reached up and held his cheek this time. She ran her thumb underneath the bag of his eye. After kissing the palm of her hand, they got to work.

After almost three hours of sorting, Carmy excused himself for a smoke break.

“Can I make you something?” he offered once again, standing in the doorway.

She shook her head, deciding that he’d done enough cooking for the day. Although she was starving at this point, she just wanted to get Carmy home and to bed so he could rest.

Although he lingered at the door for a moment, to probably try and convince her, he decided against it, leaving the office with his cigarettes in hand.

She knew he loved to cook for her, always watching her as she took the first bite of anything he cooked for her, but seeing the toll the restaurant had taken on him after only just a week was beginning to worry her. That’s why whenever her stomach grumbled, she let out a cough or ruffled some papers around to try and mask the sound. She knew Carmy would put her before himself and she couldn’t allow that.

She decided she’d eat once he went to bed, or maybe when he got into the shower.

Yeah. The shower seemed like a good idea.

A great one actually.

Spending three hours sorting through paperwork seemed like enough to call it a night — seven hours since she had lunch. Her stomach grumbled again and she could swear she smelt hints of beef, sautéed onions and peppers in the air.

She really needed to get home.

At the thought, the door to the office opened and behind her stood Carmy with two plates, a sandwich on each of them.

“Carmy-“

She began to protest but he stopped her. He knelt down, not having to dodge copious amounts of papers now that everything was sorted into neat, organized piles.

“I could hear your stomach from out there,” he nodded his head towards the kitchen.

A sheepish expression overtook her face as she looked down to the steaming contents within the sandwich.

“This looks and smells amazing, Bear.”

“Tastes even better,” he held out a plate to her.

Eagerly, she took the plate in one hand and picked up the sandwich with the other and took a bite. Flavours melded together to cause a more than satisfactory feeling to overcome her. Her ravenous stomach finally settled while begging for more at the same time.

She hummed as she chewed, nodding her head in complete ecstasy. Carmy laughed, ducking his head and shaking it slightly at her theatrics. She laughed along with him.

His bashful expression made her heart swell. He had never been more attractive to her. Seeing him do the thing he was so talented at was a sight she could never grow tired of. But the drive and determination that oozed out of him as he worked to whip this restaurant into shape opened up a whole new side to Carmy that she’d never seen before.

She loved him.

Not that she would say it again, because the one time she did, she watched how catatonic Carmy became. After his sincerest apologies, she assured him it was okay.

She decided to let it hang in the air and let him say it when he felt okay to do so.

In the meantime, she’d revel in the ways he showed her.

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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stoneworldsimp · 10 months

Text

episode 5

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: i wrote this late at night and in a one n done draft. apologies if i have some misspellings/other. based on episode 5 of the bear

the lights are out, and there’s nobody in sight when looking through the window. a frown paints your face; you could have sworn carm was working today, he would have said something if he managed to get a day off. you walked against the wind, around the corner of the restaurant to see if anything was happening in the back.

there was.

multiple tables were set up in a three-sided square, each one having different set ups; one for assembling, one for prepping, and one for selling. that’s where the line was, and a girl was behind it, collecting money from each person that came to the front. i’m..99% positive that’s sydney. based on how he describes her. everyone else who worked at the beef was there, too, focused on a different task. a massive makeshift grill was made behind the tables, and multiple foil containers where on different shelves. all of it kept the food warm, of course.

in the midst of your skimming the area, you got in line and realized carmy still wasn’t there. you didn’t think he died or anything, but it still worried you that he wasn’t inside or outside of the beef. it hit you too late that you had made the front of the line, and sydney’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“‘scuse me..?”

“oh! sorry,” you said, startled. red as a tomato. hesitant to ask your initial question, you ordered a random sandwich, the only sandwich, you remembered on the menu. “i was wondering, do you know where carmen is?”

the magic words prompted the soft rev of a car engine behind you. you looked back and saw it park next to the grill, and carmy got out of the driver’s seat. hair disheveled with a pissed off look; you haven’t seen him in this light too often. honestly, it was pretty hot. he was in his own world, walking between the grill and tables when he said hello to sydney and walked through the back entrance to the kitchen.

richie saw you, though; he and his shit eating grin sauntered on over to where you were, and before a word left your mouth, he spoke to you.

“here to see your little boyfriend, huh?” he changed direction and speed-walked to the back door, calling out, “carmy, there’s someone special here for you outside! don’t be fuckin’ rude!”

“what the..” your focus came back to sydney, and she already had your sandwich wrapped and ready. she didn’t wipe off her previous expression fast enough; you caught it at the last second.

“shit, sorry. uhm.. uh, how much do i owe you again?” you struggled in looking for your wallet as she told you the price, and her eyes were very openly searching your entire being when she thought you didn’t notice.

bickering made its way outside, getting louder once carmy and richie both came back outside. carmy still looked pretty pissed off, eyes wide and angry in the moment.

his demeanor changed when he looked past richie and the rest; locking eyes with him always felt like the first time. a slight tightness tugged at your chest once he smiled, and he jogged to you as you got out of line.

“hi! i hope it’s ok that i came, i finally got some free time and wanted to—“

a kiss was planted right on your lips when he got close enough, right in front of everyone; it was quick but felt with your entire mouth. a hand wrapped around your waist.

“you came on such a fucking eventful day,” he laughed as he pulled away, and you laughed with him.

pulling you in a hug, your sandwich smushed between yours and his stomach. “thank you for coming,” he whispered in your ear, chin resting on your shoulder.

“of course,” you replied. you were the one to pull away this time, feeling his strong arms move around you again. he smelled like food, and although it sounds off-putting, you actually really liked it. weirdly enough, you enjoyed guessing what he made when he used to come home from his previous job, as much as he hated it.

with a loving gaze into his eyes, it hit you; they were watching you. not just sydney, but the entire kitchen, they were watching, listening while they kept taking orders. how the hell can they do that? a bashful feeling consumed you in a second, and with your head down you mumbled, “i wanted maybe one more kiss, i just didn’t feel the one this morning.”

“it was 3am and you were dead asleep, i didn’t want to fully wake you up on your day off,” carmy said. he put his hands on either side of your face, wordlessly asking you to look at him. “i guess it worked out nicely for us, anyway.” he gave you another kiss, the moment ending as richie started yelling once more to someone else. carmy broke the kiss and sighed. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you tonight, ok?”

you nodded. “see you at the house.” your hands slid across his arms to his hands, lightly removing them from your face. you brought them down and gave a gentle squeeze to one before letting go. “love you.”

carmy walked away, smiling one last time before turning his body back around. one look at his employees and you knew you were toast; you quickly spun on your heel back in the way you came and left. you suppressed an embarrassed laugh as you heard richie mimic carmy, “‘i have to work, but i’ll see you later, right?’ who the fuck are you, you fuckin’ sap? there should be no PDA allowed, cousin, this is a place where people eat…”

once you were finally home, sandwich a little cold from the chill in the air, you unwrapped an end and took a bite.

it was still delicious.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white

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isa-styles28 · 8 months

Text

Jeremy Allen White golden globe

#jeremy allen white #the bear fx #the bear #shameless #shameless us #white #jeremy allen white imagine #photografy #original photos #golden globes

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delicateheartache · 8 months

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Jeremy Allen White in The Bear (2022)

#jeremy allen white #the bear #jeremy allen white imagine #the bear fx #hot as fuck #cute guy #i need him #he so pretty #he so babygirl

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heretowritesstuff · 9 months

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Hey everyone

So this is my first bit of writing on here

I know it's definitely not the best but I hope you all enjoy it. I felt we needed a bit more jeremy Allen white content on here you know :)

No warnings at all

Just setting a scene for hopefully a good story

______________

Chapter 1 the beginning

"Okay, that’s great. And cut!" Charlotte yells at the crew

"Hey Andy, that was great?"

The actor breathed a sigh of relief as she jogged toward the iconic actor who had been struggling to get the scene and finally nailed it

Charlotte has been working as a director for years.

She started as a child in some local community theatre pieces and found out that she loved the camera just as much. As much as she had tried to be in front of it her insecurities got the best of her. And through that, she discovered the magical world behind the scenes.

“Thanks, char! Do you need anything else? I hope that take works I was feeling it and felt like I knew- “

“Andrew! That was amazing, perfect shot, perfect take. You were perfect!”

The amazing spider man actor smiled and slightly blushed at your compliments

“It’s a great film, bound to get you nominated with the academy-“

“Andy Andy Andy… let’s not stress me out just yet let’s just get the movie done”

As Andrew had opened his mouth to say something

She heard her name being called in the distance

Her assistant is taking a quick walk towards her while chatting away on a call

Charlotte excused herself from her cast and stepped aside with her long-term friend and new assistant Mia.

Mia rushed toward her slightly out of breath

“Char, I have your agent on the line who in turn has a casting agent from Variety on the line and they would like to book you for an exclusive next Friday”

“Oh my god yeah of course sure, I’ll check the schedules but we should be all set”

Mia nodded and rambled back into the phone line, she glanced up as Charlotte asked

“What interview is it?”

“Actors on Actors,” Mia said quickly

“But I’m not an act-“

Mia got distracted by another voice on the line and mouthed her a quick sorry

MEANWHILE IN NEW YORK

Everyone is cheering, champagne is flowing while laughs are being shared. They had wrapped season 2 of the bear and everyone was a mix of happy, sad, and relieved

It's funny how it may have been a fake kitchen but the tensions were still so real.

Jeremy was sitting in the embrace of his costar Ebon Moss-Bachrach, laughing at some embarrassing set story when he glanced around at the set of the beef which they had called home for almost 3 years.

He was born and raised in New York but truly made a life in Los Angeles. When you spend 11 years on a project they become family. And He had created a family in many ways and no matter how much fun he had he can't help but feel a bit homesick

“Hey Jer, you doing okay?” ayo asked the blue-eyed boy who was staring into the distance

Jeremy shook his head lightly, getting the thoughts to lose, smiled at her, and said “Yeah I'm great, excited to finally get some damn sleep and order takeout for a while”

The cast laughed followed by Liza saying “oh hell yes I am not going near my stove for at least a month”

They all laughed at this, agreeing that even a microwave meal would be better than working on a stovetop for a while

Just then Jeremy's phone rang

He grabbed it hoping to see a familiar name on the screen, he sighed seeing his manager's name.

He excused himself and went to answer it

“Hey Mark what's up?”

He says leaning against the brick wall of the building, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair. He's not sure if it's hairspray, sweat, or just his hair at this point

“Jeremy! How's my guy doing? Congratulations on season 2. Listen. I have an offer for you. Nothing heavy just an interview for Variety”

“Um Mark that sounds great it’s just, I dunno man I have some things to sort out and “

“J, I know. Listen I don’t need a confirmation right now. Go home, lemme me know in like 2 days and I can book it. If not we grab the next one okay”

“Yeah okay”

After a bit of casual small talk, they say their goodbyes and hang up

Jeremy looks at his phone to see yet another news headliner, some cryptic messages, and a few check-ins. He rubbed his forehead wondering where everything had gone so wrong. How did he get here, something was missing. And it wasn’t the result of what had just happened. That would have been obvious

After he returned and enjoyed a few hours with his cast, he decided fuck it. Not much waiting for him back home. And messages Mark

Jeremy

: Hey bro, I’ll do the interview. When is it?

Mark

: are you sure man? It is next Friday with variety. It’s one of the actor on actors interviews

Jeremy

: Yeah that’s great

Can you find out who it’s gonna be with?

Mark

: I’ll work on it

Jeremy smiled at the reply and was content with this choice

Something about this decision just felt right

_____________

Thank you so much for reading

Lemme know if you would like a part 2

#carmen berzatto imagines #jeremy allen white #the bear #jeremy allen white imagine #carmen berzatto x y/n #shameless #shameless fanfiction #the bear fic #lip gallagher #the bear imagine

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

Note

hi! i'd like to ask for a whiskey with carmen berzatto with prompt m. Keeping the relationship a secret

thank you <3

Lovesick.

warnings - not quite smut, but a little smooching. cursing.

ah sweet carmen. thank you for this request <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Behind!"

Carmy's fingertips graze across your back as he walks past you, featherlight and barely there.

It sets your nerves on fire.

You carry on slicing the tomatoes, mentally willing yourself to calm down. You seem to turn into a teenager when Carmy's around, all giggly and jumpy.

"Time for you to take a break," a warm voice mutters in your ear.

"I've got like an hour before I need a break, Carm."

"I said, time for you to take a break."

He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, chuckling when he sees you shiver. To anyone else, it looks like he's just giving you direction.

"I'll meet you in the office in five," you whisper. He's satisfied with your answer, slinking off to wait for you.

You barely make it to two minutes before you're walking across the kitchen, gliding through the door and closing it behind you.

Two rough hands find your hips, pushing you up against the wall. Carmy smashes his lips to yours, using your startled gasp as opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling recklessly. Your leg hitches up around his thigh, desperate to get closer to him.

"You're all I can think about," Carmy whispers against your mouth. "Can't focus on a fuckin' thing when you're in the room."

You whine, tugging him back to kiss you again. You know this is risky. But you just can't help yourself.

"Come over tonight," you murmur. "Want you to fuck me to sleep."

He throws his head back and groans, gorgeous neck exposed and waiting to be bitten. You lean in and lick the expanse of it, tasting the salt on his skin.

Carmy brings a warm hand up to rest against your throat, smirking when you whine. He presses kisses to the spot under your ear, your neck, your collarbones. Just as he's trying to unbutton your shirt, the door swings open, scaring the life out of you both.

You shriek as Carmy jumps, light filling the tiny room.

"Well well well," Richie drawls, grin etched across his face. "What do we have here?"

"Is Carmy there? I need to ask him about-"

Sydney stops dead in her tracks, the corners of her lips curling.

"Does anyone else wanna come and fuckin' look?" Carmy groans, snapping at the two people stood in the doorway.

You hide your face in his chest, willing them to leave you alone. Or for the ground to swallow you up. Either works.

"Alright, alright. Let's leave these lovesick kids alone."

You never thought you'd see the day that Richie was your saving grace.

The minute the door swings closed, you can't help but break out into a fit of giggles. Carmy joins you, both of you crying tears of laughter.

Lovesick. He's probably right.

#carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #the bear imagine #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fanfiction #jeremy allen white #murphy's 3k celebration

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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

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carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist

Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):

comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)

a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)

the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)

make my heart surrender

after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)

home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)

try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)

cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)

j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)

your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)

pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)

bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)

sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)

still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)

you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)

don't want to walk alone

the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)

carmy as your baby daddy

a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)

extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:

your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)

meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)

pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)

honeymoon lingerie moodboard

christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb

The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:

(nothing here YET but working on it)

jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon

stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)

sneaking around with carmy (blurb)

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laiiaaa · 5 months

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Carmy with a stressed cranky gf getting her degree and he’s just so good to her ughhhhhhh (so self-indulgent)

“Carmen, could you—could you just, fuckin’—…watch where you’re going?”

He freezes where he took a misstep, leaving your laptop’s charger dangling near the floor after accidentally unplugging it. A simple little thing, a dumb mistake made while caught up in something else mentally. A matter of a charger extended beyond its comfortable reach. It’d be fixed in seconds, but you weren’t having it.

A confused look washes over him. “I-I’m sorry, baby—” He knows you’re in one of those moods—he always knows—and lowers to pick up the cord. “Lemme plug it back in for you—”

“Or you could just not walk right into it,” you snap, fingers tapping away at your keyboard, face illuminated in a blueish hue from the screen.

“Hey.” He perks right back up after fixing the charger, but you don’t look back at him. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t start that w’me, c’mon.” He comes a little closer, perched at the end of the couch right beside you. “You’re in a mood.”

“I’m not.” You definitely are.

“Baby.” Instinctively, his hand comes to rub your shoulder, his thumb presses just a little firmer along the crook of your neck. “Take a break for the night.”

“I need to finish up with this—”

“‘M not asking.” He gives you that look, with his hands extended to silently demand you hand over your computer. “It’s a Friday night. C’mon.”

You pout, and you huff, and you give him those eyes that tell him you don’t want to, but you save your document and hand it over anyway, quickly curling into the end of the couch and not making a move when he sits next to you.

“You mad at me?” he asks, looping his arm over your shoulder, a little hurt when you don’t melt into his touch like you usually do.

You keep your eyes glued to the wall, not paying him any mind. “No.”

“Then why’re you always workin’, huh?” He squeezes you a little tighter, bringing you deeper into his embrace as he cups your jaw—with those firm, strong hands of his that somehow always have you pliant—and turns you to look up at him. “Every time I come home you’re on the computer with that look on your face.”

“I don’t have a look.”

Smiling, he presses his lips to your forehead. “Yeah you do.” Then to the furrow in your brow. “But it’s cute.”

He scatters slow, gentle kisses across your face, from your temples, to your cheeks, to your jaw, until he finds your lips and takes them carefully, relishing in your act of apology when your hands circle around his forearms and kiss him a little deeper. And slowly, he feels the tenseness in your body begin to dissipate, feels you turn into him more.

Pulling away, still intent on figuring out your rut, he rests his forehead to yours. “Talk to me, baby. What’s got you actin’ all mean, hm?” His hands hold you close, and his thumbs graze your cheekbones. “Somethin’ I do you wanna talk about?”

“No—”

“No?” He’d be lying if he said a wave of relief washed over him. “What’s goin’ on then?”

“I’m—it’s just that—…” You sigh.

He waits patiently, knowing that by now he’s cracking open that shell. “‘S alright, hon, we can work it out.”

“Carmen, I just—” And your lip quivers, and your throat gets sore, and your vision gets bleary from tears emerging. “I have so much to do, and—…”

“For school?”

You nod against him. “It’s just—I get behind on one thing, and then there’s five other things I need to do, and I try to get ahead but then I don’t sleep, and—I-I’m just stressed, is all.”

“I know.” He coos gently at you and thumbs away your tears. “I know, ‘n you’ve been workin’ so hard, baby.”

“Well I’m still not getting anywhere.” Your throat tightens, and tears keep falling, and you feel your resolve crumbling, the last of your strength dissolving now that Carmen’s handling you so gently. “And I just feel so stupid all the time—”

“Uh-uh,” he nudges his nose against yours, “You don’t get to say that, you’re the smartest person I know.”

He pulls you away carefully, just to look you in the eye—and his gut wrenches, seeing you like this, all pouty and wet with tears, your lips salty when he kisses them slowly to mellow the racing of your heart.

With a calm hand he urges your head to rest against his chest, his lips lending a kiss to your temple. “So fuckin’ smart ‘n you don’t even know it.” Naturally, the rest of you follows, with his arms keeping you close, one wrapped around your waist to hold you tight as the other hand rests with on the back of your neck to soothe you, scratching gently at the nape of it. “Always blowin’ me away, baby, you’re so smart. So hardworkin’, too—”

“But Carm—” Your sobs choke you up then, and there’s a throb in your forehead that has you almost begging for sleep.

“Shhh, what is it?” His hand smooths up and down your back, his voice becomes gentler than ever. “Take a breath, c’mon, take a deep breath.”

You push yourself away from his chest, seeing the tears staining his white tee before you look up at him. “I’m sorry, Bear. All the stress, it’s—I’ve been so mean to you lately—” you don’t even process the vigorous shake of his head— “I’m sorry, Bear—”

“Hey, hey, baby, stop—” He wipes tears from your eyes before they get the chance to spill onto your cheeks. “Stop with that, would ya?” Another kiss to your forehead has you melting. “You’re okay. We’re okay.” Another kiss, slower, to your sob-bitten lips, like he wants you to taste his forgiveness.

“But I was mean to you, and I’m sorry—”

His chest physically aches because he knows there’s only so much he can do for you. “I know,” he tells you, “I know, baby, I got you. It’s okay.”

“I promise don’t mean it, Carmen—”

“Yeah, I know that, hon.” Pulling you tight to his chest again, his strong arms wrap around you fully, and he presses kisses to the skin where he’s nuzzled into your neck. “You’re workin’ yourself to the bone, y’know that?”

“Mhm,” you hum, just happy to be held, to be swallowed whole by his warmth.

“You promise to rest up from now on?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah? Not even listenin’, huh?”

“Mhm.” You burrow into him just a little deeper, eyes slipping shut.

He scoffs, but it’s full of love. “It’s gettin’ late now.” He shuffles you closer to him with little effort, hooking his hands beneath your thighs to encourage them around his hips. “Let’s get you t’bed, hm? C’mon—” he hoists you to his hip with a subtle grunt— “Up you go, baby, that’s it—”

And in the brief minute or two it takes for him to turn out the lights in your shared apartment, and the twenty-some paces to the bedroom, you’re lulled off to sleep in his embrace, stoking that fire in his chest that keeps him going—because knowing you feel safe with him, secure with him, is all he really needs.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #jeremy allen white #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto imagines #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu

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ticktokrobotsnot · 10 months

Text

Hurricane

This is part 1. You can read part 2 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension between him and y/n.

Word Count: 9.5k

warning: alcohol, mentions of throwing up out of nervousness but no one actually does, or even comes close, fighting, smoking

Three hundred thousand dollars, what kind of fucking moron takes out three hundred thousand dollars just to blow his brains out and let his younger brother foot the bill. What kind of cosmic douche does that to another person? Y/n would never say something like that out loud but she certainly was thinking it after Carmen told her about the debts that he apparently owes on top of the bills he had yet to pay. In fact, Carmen was barely scraping by, he cut his pay check till all he had was enough to cover rent and the bare bones necessities. Rather than cut anyone’s pay, or cheaping out on ingredients, he sacrificed almost everything for this restaurant, for his brother. And what did his brother leave him? A three hundred thousand dollar bill. Once again, what a dick.

“It’s not-” Carmen started. “It’s fixable.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, she continued to scrub the stop top and kept her face neutral when in reality her blood was boiling. It’s not her debt and she is completely free to run away before this ship sinks but she couldn’t help but stay. She had convinced herself that the reason she stayed was because this horrible and completely fucked restaurant was like a train wreak, you can't help but stand and watch it crash and burn. Definitely not because of any other personal reasons.

“We just have to keep our heads down and get through the year and we can get some money off of our tab.”

More silence.

They both knew it was a pipe dream, no matter what they did at the restaurant, they could only make an insignificant dent towards the impending debt. Y/n didn’t want to be negative when Carmen was doing his best to not crumble under the pressure so she looked up with a small smile. She wondered if the smile translated as an optimistic smile or a pity smile.

Carmen sighed, leaned against the wall and rubbed his face with his palms in an effort to wipe away some tension. Looks like it translated as a pity smile.

“Tell me something good, y/n.” Carmen mumbled through his hands.

It was like the words were lost in her mouth. What could she possibly say? What collection of words makes this shitty situation any better? The answer is none, sometimes words mean nothing. No amount of consoling or baseless optimism could make this situation look good. If you can’t make a shitty situation look good then you should at least make a shitty solution look good.

“At least you have those bachelor parties, you can knock off a few grand.” Y/n offered.

“Yeah,” Carmen agreed half-heartedly. Looks like she couldn’t make the shitty solution look good either. Y/n gave herself one more attempt to lighten the mood before she sewed her mouth shut, crawled into a hole and died.

“And let's not forget that your “loan shark” is your uncle and he won’t smash your kneecaps.” Y/n jokingly muttered, “Probably?”

Y/n heard Carmen exhale through his nose. Y/n lives to speak and live another day. After testing the waters for the past few months, y/n realized that in order to get Carmen to stop going into crisis mode she had to either talk about a solution or completely distract him.

“What's the payment situation going to be like? …What is the interest?”

“No …no interest, just a clean 300k.”

“That's fair, adding interest on a loan like that would be like throwing shit in a septic tank. When is the bachelor party?”

“Uncle Jimmy is coming by tomorrow to give the details for that stupid fucking party.”

One quality that has persisted through out the years was y/n ability to not know when to shut the fuck up. The trait was helpful when filling the silence between the both of them. Carmen liked to listen more than talk, he didn't have anything to talk about except depressing shit. So when the air was filled with anxiety and tension y/n did what she did best, make a damn fool of herself.

“You think there's going to be strippers?”

Carmen looked up from his hands and gave out a laugh out of shock and it sounded like music to y/n ears. She wished she could record it, he really did have a nice smile and she wished he smiled more. Good god, he looked so… so…

“There will be at least strippers.” Carmen snickered while hiding his smirk behind his hands. It's like he knew she was waiting for it and was depriving her on purpose. This was a good learning moment for y/n though, shock humor lands well with Carmen.

Y/n moved on to scrubbing the floor because she wasn’t able to look Carmen in the eyes after asking, “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

She didn’t even have to look up to know what kind of look she was getting. She heard a bewildered laugh and looked up and was met with an amazing view. His head was thrown back and his hand was running through his hair.

For a brief moment, y/n tried to convince herself that all of the embarrassment she put herself through wasn’t worth it but after stealing a few glimpses of him she could confidently say it most definitely was.

“No I haven’t. You?” He then straightened his head and grabbed a towel and started scrubbing too.

“Of course, I've been. I used to work in one, you know?” Carmen’s head shot up.

“Yeah, but I needed a career change.”

“You worked in one? As a… dancer?” Carmen asked not quite being able to tell if this was a joke or not.

“You call strippers “dancers”? What are you, 90? No, I was not a “dancer.” I was a bartender.”

“Hmm” Carmen pondered before adding, “I knew you couldn't be one, I saw you slip on air this morning.”

“My lack of coordination aside,” y/n rolled her eyes jokingly, “I spent a lot of time seeing the routines and stuff and I could never, I can barely run a mile let alone swing around on a pole. Those strippers are stronger and braver than the Marines.”

“I have a cousin in the Marines,” Carmen added while scrubbing a particularly tough stain.

“Tell him that he’s a little bitch.”

Carmen stopped scrubbing and gwaffed into his fist. On the outside she looked normal but inside she was scratching the skin off her face in joy. She really wanted to seal the deal.

“Would you ever be a stripper?”

3-0 favoring y/n because Carmen looked up at her and laughed, and not a reserved one. A full one with an open mouth and red face.

Holy fuck… what the fuck was she doing? She could be home right now rewatching a nature documentary to unwind. She should be asleep right now. It's 12am and here she is sitting with her boss on the floor counting how many times she can make him feel good. And the worst part? She was enjoying herself.

“I don’t think I would make a good one.” He said as he moved closer to y/n and scrubbed at another scuff mark.

He would make a great one, y/n thought. He has huge arms, a quiet but powerful persona, a sculpted face, and beautiful eyes. Y/n had to resist the impulse to say that she would throw all her money at him right this second.

“It's your eyes.” Y/n humorously pondered, “They’re too intense, am I going to get a lap dance or am I going to get into a long and meaningful relationship?”

Carmen's gaze lifted towards y/n, and she wrestled the urge to lock her gaze with his mesmerizing cerulean eyes. She wanted to etch into her memory the way the yellowing lights danced upon his irises, as they transitioned shades, but the flutters in her stomach were making her woozy.

Y/n was a coward, so unsurprisingly she looked away, but not before stupidly adding, “You could add a blindfold to your act, I bet that would make the girls go wild.”

What in the flying fuck was she talking about, y/n screamed in her head. Y/n had some nerve calling The Beef a train wreck when she was watching herself crash and burn and not being able to stop herself. It felt like an out of body experience, like she was watching someone else fuck up her life.

Carmen looked like he was thinking about something and y/n wondered if she would have the courage to pick up her last check after she got her ass fired.

“Judging by the amount of shit I have to deal with in this stupid fucking place, being a stripper is starting to look more and more…” Carmen stared at y/n for a split moment, “tempting.”

Y/n was glad that he had inadvertently stopped her from saying something really stupid but she needed a quiet place all to herself so she could squeal like a teenage girl.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, y/n was starting to notice how close they were and in order to stop herself from getting a sued for sexual harassment she forced herself to call it a night, and that was a tough call to make. Y/n smiled at Carmen before softly mummering, “Carmy, you’ve got a big day tomorrow why don’t we get you home?”

Carmen's posture straightened, and a slight haze seemed to veil his eyes. Rising to his feet, he extended a hand towards y/n. In the instant their palms met, a surge of thoughts flooded y/n's mind, realizing how deeply she would miss this touch once they released. The fleeting moment barely allowed her to relish the sensation, leaving her with only a passing recollection of his hand—warm, calloused, and undeniably strong.

After grabbing their stuff from the lockers, y/n glanced at her phone that showed 12:14am. The walk home was going to be a real bitch. Carmen did one last walk through before leaving. Y/n could have left after she got her stuff but she stayed for a bit longer. She leaned against the windows of The Beef watching Carmen leave the restaurant and lock the door. He didn't look a bit surprised at her still waiting for him, he knew she would always be there waiting. It was a tradition, they would close up and he would walk y/n to her car. He would wait till y/n car was completely out of sight before he climbed into his car and drove to his place.

“Where did you park your car?” Carmen asked while shuffling through his bag to find his own car keys.

“My car is at the shop, I'm going to walk home.”

“You're going to walk home after dark? It's like 1 in the morning?”

“It's 12:30 and it's not that big of a deal, and if I get tired I'll just uber the rest of the way home.”

“That's how people get kidnapped, y/n”

“Don't worry, even if I do get kidnapped, I'll still miraculously make it to work on time tomorrow, and I'll have an epic tale to share for years to come." Y/n joked. "Why don’t I walk you to your car for a change? Where did you park?"

Carmen hesitated, not because he didn't want to offer a ride but because he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. It's just a ride home, it's not like ridesharing amongst coworkers is something new.

“Let me drive you home. This is not a great neighborhood.”

“My place is opposite from your place, I'm not going to hold you hostage. Go home, you have a big day tomorrow.” Y/n pulled up Google maps to see how long the walk would take, 35 minutes wasn't too bad.

“It's fine, I wasn't going to sleep right away anyways.”

Y/n shot a disapproving look. "Do you honestly think I was born yesterday? I mean, come on. You're planning to stay up late after a long day at work today and another one tomorrow?"

“Let me do this for you…Please.”

Y/n was contemplating beating his ass with one of the 2x4s lying around, how fucking dare he look at her like that when she is already holding her self back from jumping his bones. It was maddening. In that moment, the streetlight cast an ethereal glow upon his hair, transforming it into strands of pure gold. She couldn't deny the captivating effect it had on her. And that infuriating expression he wore, as if he had the power to make her surrender to his every whim, was driving her wild. If he had asked for her kidney with that look, she might have found herself on her knees, desperately clawing at her own abdomen to fulfill his request.

“Ok, thank you so much Carmen. You really are…kind.” Y/n tried not to look at his eye because she knew that she would feel another flutter and now she had an audience watch her throw up from overstimulation.

“It’s the least I can do.” Carmen didn’t have the courage to thank her for making him feel better about the restaurant’s financial situation so this was the best he could do.

They both walked to Carmen’s car in silence. Y/n had an unstoppable itch to fill the silence with some asinine conversation but she resisted. She knew as soon as she got home she would scream into her pillow for bringing up strippers and blindfolds to her boss, and she didn’t want to add more things to cringe about. They could be 85 and she would still pucker her face when remembering this night.

They finally walked up to Carmen’s car, and Carmen opened y/n’s door for her. Y/n had to keep from fainting right then and there, she was a grown woman and Carmen was doing the bare minimum by helping out an employee and here she was fighting a blush. He walked over to the driver side and started the car.

“You good?”

“Sorry.” Y/n hands were shaking from the nerves.

“I can't find the seat belt connector thing, it's too dark."

Carmen wordlessly grabbed the seatbelt from the base and trailed down the belt, softly grazing his knuckle on her collarbone before gently taking the buckle from y/n's hands and guiding it to the right place.

Y/n mumbled a soft thanks. They both looked away for a second, both of them completely floored by Carmen’s boldness. Y/n couldn’t take this anymore she needed to get out of here before she became a stuttering mess, “Let me look up the directions, I’m geographically blind so I need Google to tell me where to go. I've been working here for months and I still need someone to tell me to get home.” Carmen pushed his tongue against his cheek to stifle another laugh.

“Geographical blind”, who says that? That's literally the lamest fucking thing you could possibly say. Y/n was going to go home and watch a few meditation videos in the hope that she learns how to shut the fuck up.

The ride back was nice and quiet. Y/n was too tired to talk and she was starting to feel guilty for making Carmen drive her home, he should be even more tired than her. They finally pulled over to y/n’s place, and she sat in the car for a few seconds to ground herself before she looked over to Carmen who was looking straight through the windshield.

“Thanks again Carmen.”

“Will your car be back tomorrow?”

“The day after.”

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow then.”

“That's too much Carmen, You aren’t obligated to do this. I’ll just leave a little earlier so I can catch a train.” Carmen looked like he was not satisfied with that response. Y/n didn’t want to leave early because she liked her time alone with Carmen but she couldn’t keep imposing.

“I’ll drop you off, it's not a big deal.” He left no room for negotiation.

Y/n smiled at him before grabbing her purse. Carmen got out of the car and walked around to y/n’s side to open her door. Y/n got out with as much grace as a toddler, she really needed to go to bed.

“Carmen, you really are too… you're just too…” Y/n struggled to find a good enough word before mindlessly blurting out, “Good.”

Y/n couldn’t see his face because the streetlamp was too far to illuminate his face so she didn’t know if she made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks again, I’ll see you tomorrow Carm.” Y/n softly mumbled before walking into her building and while waiting for the elevator she saw that Carmen was still leaning against the car door. She gave him a small smile not seeing if she got one back. The elevator ride up was filled with y/n jumping, dry heaving, and overall panic induced mayhem. The second hand embarrassment was too much. The elevator dinged and she went into her place and looked out the window to really burn the memory into her brain. This is the exact date and location where Carmen dropped her off.

She was surprised to see that he was still there. Everyone at work knew what apartment building she lived in because she invited them over for dinner recently, so it wasn’t a surprise that he knew the general area on where to look for her apartment.

She flicked on the lights and picked up her phone to dial him and watched as his silhouette fumble around to find his phone.

Carmen spoke first, “I just wanted to make sure you…”

“I got home safe.” Y/n opened her window before giving him a wave from five stories.

Y/n continued, “Go home, chef, I want to see you bright and early tomorrow.” She saw a blur of what she deciphered as a wave.

“Night y/n”

And with that y/n closed her window and Carmen drove off. It was 1 in the morning so she didn’t jump or scream into her pillow like she intended to because her neighbors would kill her. So she settled for a shower and eventually passed out.

Y/n was not a morning person my all means and told Carmen as an off handed comment a few months back. He offered her later hours so she didn’t need to come in super early for prep but she could stay to clean up. She got ready and got to the restaurant at around 11:30 am, where she found Carmen, Richie and an older man seated on a table at the far corner of the restaurant.

Before she could slip away to make herself busy in the kitchen, she was called over by the older gentlemen with a finger curl. Y/n turned around assuming that he was indicating someone else only to find that no one else was there but her. She looked over again and pointed at herself and Richie rolled his eyes before kicking the chair next to him to indicate that she was to sit. Y/n took off her headphones and sat across from the old guy and in between the cousins. Carmen looked up and wordlessly gave her a polite greeting.

If this was money problems why is this old fart calling me over?

Awkward silence.

“Good morning.” Y/n started.

“Morning, did Carmen fill you in?” Carmen’s “uncle” asked.

"I'd be delighted to put a name to your face. I'm y/n," she said with a warm smile.

“I'm Cicero…” Y/n pretended to look a bit puzzled, “Uncle Jimmy, yes, yes, Carmen told me you were coming today”

No one filled the silence so y/n stepped in.

“As much as I love the mystery, I do have work to do…so…why am I here?”

Cicero spoke up, “Carmy’s got that catering gig at that bachelor party on Friday and we were wondering if you would like to help.”

“Catering to a bunch of drunks on Friday night, seems like exhilarating” Y/n said sarcastically. “I'll be there. I’ve got to the kitchen, I shouldn’t leave Tina alone with my prep-”

“Look, I'm going to be honest with you…” Cicero continued, Y/n glanced sideways at both Richie and Carmen but they looked as confused as she did.

“Did you work out front a week ago?” Cicero asked.

“I covered for Richie on Tuesday?”

“One of the guys, the groom, saw you and thought you…looked…” It looked like he was embarrassed to finish what he wanted to say. “They want you to be there.” Cicero finished.

“This is what you were holding off on, we’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes in fucking silence so you could solicit a fucking chef?” Richie said in confusion before laughing and leaning back to glance at Carmen on the far right who was visibly livid, which caused him to laugh even more obnoxiously.

“Be there and do what?” Y/n pondered, a flicker of concern crossing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how human trafficking stories began. She wasn’t really paying attention to either Carmen or Richie, but she could feel that it was getting tense on her right, where Carmen was seated.

“I'm just going to rip off the bandaid. They want you there to serve drinks.” Y/n couldn’t hide the look of bewilderment and relief.

“Jesus, you were making it seem like I was going to have to sleep with them…Yes I can serve drinks. I’ll be there” Y/n got up from her chair and Cicero added.

“Do you know what a Hurricane Shot is, y/n?”

Y/n immediately sat right back down, she let out a laugh and she was in decent company because Richie was also dying right next to her.

“They want that…” Cicero finished awkwardly.

Carmen looked up after trying to burn a hole into his table. “What the fuc-” Carmen fumed.

“What’s the pay like?” Y/n asked.

“Without you 5k, with 10k”. That made Richie stop laughing.

“Let me think about it.”

Y/n got up and walked out back. She stole a quick glance at Carmen who was sharing some choice words with his “uncle.” Y/n thought that she might as well get back to work. She was going to serve drinks no matter what but she had a feeling that she would get some resistance.

The rest of the shift was relatively slow and Carmen was in his office for most of the day. Around 8, it looked like there weren't going to be any more customers so Carmen finally got out of his cave and let everyone leave early. He stood with his back straight and arms crossed in front of his office, his eyes narrowed at y/n. Y/n thought she could not deal with the brunt of this confrontation by herself, so she looked at Richie trying to nonverbally communicate for him to stay. Luckily, Richie understood and stayed and it was just the three of them alone at the restaurant.

Carmen went inside and it was implied that the both of them should follow.

“I'm going to serve at that party.” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, no shit you are.” Richie agreed while whispering a lot less quietly.

“It's 10 grand.” Y/n reasoned

“Who says no to 10 fucking grand?” Richie exclaimed.

They both walked over to the office. Y/n stood against the wall, it felt like she was being sent to the principal's office.

The silence was killing y/n so she started, “It's just one day.”

“Only a few hours” Richie offered

“Which is basically just a few minutes.” Y/n reasoned.

“Which is really just a few seconds.” Richie added.

More silence.

“It's a lot of money cousin, and y/n is up for it.”

“Yeah, 10k in a few hours. I mean it would be totally crazy to say no.” Y/n remarked.

“You would be fucking crazy to say no.”

“Yeah, Carmen, it would be pure idiocy to say no.” Y/n chimed in.

Carmen rubbed his temple and then looked up. “That is not happening. You aren’t doing this.”

“It's 10k, Carmen, and all I have to do is pour some drinks. It's like money is just falling on our laps, we have to take advantage of this golden opportunity.” Y/n added, “God helps those who help themselves.”

“You're religious?” Richie questioned

“No, but he’s Italian and they're religious, right? I thought it might help my case.” Y/n whispered.

“I can fucking hear the both of you.” Carmen was annoyed and y/n realized she didn’t really know how to convince him to let her help him.

“What specific issue do you have with me bartending at this party?” If she got to the root of the problem she could find a solution that helped ease his worries.

Carmen brooded in his corner. People didn’t give Richie enough credit, he was pretty good at reading a room and he knew that it would be better if he left Carmen to y/n.

“I got something tonight.” Richie spewed out before turning around to get the hell out of there. As he was about to leave he mouthed You got this? Y/n gave him a subtle thumbs up.

They both stood in silence hearing the sounds of Richie walking around the kitchen to grab his keys and get his charger in the front, and eventually the door chimed meaning that it was now just Carmen and y/n.

“Tell me what the issue is. Do you have safety concerns?”

“That's one of many concerns.” Carmen knew he was being difficult but he couldn’t let this happen.

“I'm just pouring drinks, I'm not going to be doing anything super dangerous.”

“You are going to be pouring drinks for coked out dickheads. How is that not dangerous?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Besides, your uncle told me that I'm going to be giving hurricane shots, if anything I'm the dangerous one.”

Carmen looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

“You don’t know what it is?” Y/n had to resist snickering. “So basically, you would take a shot, then I would splash water on you and slap you…Do you want to see a video?” Y/n ushered Carmen to the only chair in the office.

Carmen didn’t know why he was humoring this and he didn’t want to admit it but he was wondering what the appeal of getting slapped was. If it's just slapping a few guys then maybe it wasn’t too bad…

Y/n pulled up a video and any bit of him that could have been convinced to let this happen shriveled up and died. It was a video of a woman in a very revealing dress sitting on a table splashing and slapping horny middled aged fucks. Absolutely not.

Y/n looked up from the video and saw that she made it worse. Carmen was sitting silently in his worn out chair, not even looking at the video just staring at the floor.

Carmen felt a hand on his shoulder and felt y/n come closer, he could feel her breath on his neck and it was making it hard to breathe. Softly, y/n whispered, “Carmen, you are being perfectly reasonable and very respectful but this is a once in a lifetime situation.”

A soft pause passed while y/n was trying to formulate the right words.

“You do so much for me so let me take care of you, Carmy.” Y/n rarely called him that and the name slid down his spine causing him to shiver.

Without even having time to think about what just came out his mouth, he mumbled a soft “yeah”. Carmen looked just as shocked as y/n. Neither of them were expecting that, y/n was expecting to have to postpone convincing him till tomorrow.

Now the next hurdle was making sure that Carmen didn’t change his mind. “Why don’t you stay with me during the party? That way if anything happens you'll be there. Will you be my designated bodyguard for the night, Carmen?" Y/n playfully feigned a pout, allowing Carmen to remain silent, sensing that he might need some space to process the request

She slipped out before taking a deep breath, Jesus that was stressful. People killed each other for 10k and he was just going to throw it away. Y/n wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he said no she would have snuck into that party and got Carmen his 10k.

She surveyed the kitchen, it was spotless. There really wasn’t much to do because the other chefs had done most of it but she had a feeling that if she left Carman alone, he would change his mind. So, she did what she did every single day, scrub these stupid floors.

A few minutes had passed and y/n was wondering about what she should wear to an event like that? A small dress was a necessity but she only had a small black one from her college years. Would it even fit, it's been years since she last put it on? She needed to find her old pair of black pumps from college too, she knew they were deep in her closet. And while she scrubbed and planned her outfit for Friday, Carmen came out of his office and joined her wordlessly, taking the towel from y/n’s hands and scrubbing for her.

He finally looked up, “I will be by your side the entire time. You can’t go anywhere unless I can see you-”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“What if some sleazy fucker is waiting in the bathroom?”

“I doubt it. But ok, I'll hold it.”

“You can't cross the counter.” Y/n wasn’t going to anyways.

“And I have to drive you home.” That stupefied y/n.

“What? Why?”

”What if one of those limp dicked pervs follows you home?”

“Carmen, you’re thinking too much. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not letting you do this unless-”

“Alright Carmen. We will do this your way.” Y/n gave him a smile to show that they were good.

Carmen quickly glanced down and continued scrubbing the floor. The rest of the night was spent cleaning the floor and eventually neither of them could come up with any other excuses to stay together. There is only so much time you can spend scrubbing and organizing an already spotless kitchen.

They both went back to the lockers, grabbed their stuff, did a final walk through, and locked up. Carmen drove her home, y/n said goodbye through the phone and waved out the window. Y/n knew that this routine couldn’t last because she would pick up her car tomorrow morning but she was debating slashing a few tires just to make this last a bit longer.

The next day y/n came in at 11:30 and was pulled aside by Richie.

“Is it handled?”

“It's a bartending gig not an assassination. And yes.”

“That bastard said yes?” Shocked didn’t really cover what Richie felt.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “I know you wanna crack a few jokes but he is tethering and I don't want him to-”

“No wise cracks.”

“Also, the crew thinks I'm catering, could you keep the bartending underwraps.”

“Sure thing princess.”

“Do not-”

They were cut off by Fak and y/n took that as her sign to leave. Other than that, the day was exactly the same. The only other difference was that at the end of the night she had to walk to her car with Carmen.

“You can back out, you know. This debt is my brother's… and now it's mine. You shouldn't get involved in this shit show.”

“Do you feel like you're taking advantage of me?” Carmen didn’t say anything.

“How about you give me the day off tomorrow and we'll call it even. Paid leave.”

Carmen smirked, “That's not really even.”

“I'm giving you less than 24 hours notice and don’t even have a good reason to miss work tomorrow, I'm being a bad employee and you're going to let me get away with it. It seems plenty even to me.” They had ended their night relatively early, it was only 11pm and y/n wanted a few more minutes with Carmen, so she took a few wrong turns. Was that a selfish thing to do? Yes. But did it feel right? Also, yes.

They finally “found" her car. Carmen opened the door for her after she unlocked it. Y/n pulled out her parking spot and then drove off. But she didn’t forget to wave out the window and in the rear view window she could see that he was waving back. Y/n drove for a few minutes before double parking in an open street to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. She rolled up her windows and squealed. It felt good to be able to do that after holding it in for the last few days. She composed herself and drove home.

The next morning was brutal because she had to completely gut her closet to find that black dress and heels. After a few hours she found them in the same box that held her cap and gown. She laid them on her bed and then went to get a haircut. On her way back she saw a tattoo parlor and walked in and asked if they had any temporary tattoos lying around. They found one wedged between some binders, it was a large rose.

The night was quickly approaching and she had to leave soon. She had finished getting ready and right as she was about to leave she remembered the rose tattoo. Y/n ran to the skin, and peeled her dress up leaving her thigh exposed and placed the rose tattoo there. She grabbed a long black jacket and then she called an uber to take her to The Beef. The jacket covered up her cleavage but her legs were mostly bare and she regretted not wearing a pair of sweats for the commute.

The restaurant was closed slightly early but it still was pitch black when she got there. Richie and Carmen were finishing up moving chairs and tables. Y/n walked in and the chime alerted them that y/n had arrived.

“Hey guys. When does the party start? Am I too early?”

Carmen’s face betrayed nothing so she couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Richie smirked, “The band of dickheads are coming in about 20 minutes.”

“Can I see what the booze situation looks like?” She got a short tour of what the food and drinks situation was going to look like. She hadn’t taken off her jacket because it was still a bit chilly.

“Carmen, can you turn up the heat?” Carmen walked over to the thermostat in his office to adjust it to y/n comfort. With only 5 minutes before the party was supposed to start, y/n thought she might as well take the jacket off.

“I feel a bit out of place, I'm the only one dressed up.”

Richie gwaffed,” Don’t worry you’ll be in good company with the strippers. Honestly, who's going to know the difference.” Y/n raised a cup of iced water to chuck at Richie.

“Hey, save that for our esteemed guests.” Richie said as he walked as far as possible to avoid getting splashed.

Just as y/n was about to tell Riche to fuck off, Carmen walked in. He took one look at y/n and spent the next few seconds trying to generate a coherent thought. The first wave of guests came in and Carmen lost his chance to say something but it's not like he could come up with anything marginally comprehensible anyways. In a few hours the party was in full swing. Richie was sitting in the kitchen but the thumping music, the smell of booze, the reverberating sound of obnoxious drunk laughter was giving him a migraine so he went outside for an hours long smoke break, he wondered how Carmen was doing.

Carmen was not doing fine, he was doing horrible. The lights, music, and dancing were making him nauseous. But the thing that really tested his patience was the guys ogling at you. Y/n wasn’t really paying attention to any of the guys but they were getting more and more drunk.

The room was lit with purple and blue lights and it was difficult to tell what was happening, and even though he knew it was wrong that didn’t stop Carmen from taking a few peeks at y/n back side throughout the night. If the back was rendering him speechless he could only imagine what the front looked like. The thought that these piss pots were seeing her would send him into a blind rage but the fact that each one of them would get hit in the face made it a bit more digestible.

A guy came up to y/n, and Carmen walked right up to them to know why this fuckhead was talking to her. The groom had asked for the first hurricane shot. Y/n sent him away for a few minutes to give her time to set up. She turned to Carmen and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Payback time.”

Even though they were in a very crowded room, y/n smirk made him forget it. It was a small and private gesture and no one else would be privy to see it. It was just for Carmen and no one else. That made him feel a bit better.

Y/n and Carmen filled up cups with very cold water just to make it hurt even more. Carmen started to put ice in the water and when y/n saw what he was doing she threw her head back to laugh. The laugh made his heart flutter but the feeling of her hand grasping him to ground herself sent a shiver down his back and it wasn't because both their hands were ice cold now.

The room was so loud that they needed to come close to the other’s ear just to hear each other.

“You gotta put a bit more ice in this one, Carmen ”

“Who’s getting this special order?” Carmen smirked, he was having fun.

“The groom of course. Why are you asking a stranger you meet once to slap you across the face when you have a fiancée at home? Also, what kind of sick fuck gets drunk, high, and a hand job from a stripper the week before his wedding? That level of dickbaggary deserves a face full of welts.” Carmen covers his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It's so tacky and…and…yuck. Hard pass.”

Carmen took that information and stored it in his vault; no drinking, drugs, or girls of any kind during his future bachelor party. He wasn’t going to do the last two anyways, but he never wanted y/n to feel “yuck” about him so he would sacrifice the alcohol for his own bachelor party.

“Have you seen the women here? Very pretty.” Y/n teased.

Y/n didn’t really know why she even brought it up, She spent the entire night facing the crowd and got an eye full of many tits and she knows Carmen’s witnessing the same scene. Being surrounded by a sea of stunning and jaw dropping women had triggered a sense of insecurity within her. Yet, she reminded herself that those women were there to captivate with their beauty, while her role was to serve food and drinks. And to be fair, some of her customers have dropped their jaws after eating her food, balancing the scales of admiration. As such, any lingering immaturity or jealousy dissipated into the air.

The source of unease wasn't the presence of other women, but rather Carmen himself. Y/n had previously worked at a strip club and hadn't experienced this level of jealousy before. But now, with Carmen by her side, she found herself questioning whether he was comparing her to the other women at the party. Did she even register on his radar amidst the crowd? While their relationship remained strictly that of coworkers and friends, she appreciated that Carmen hadn't abandoned her. However, she couldn't help but feel conflicted about his presence, as she didn't want him to witness the spectacle of beautiful women giving drunk idiots lap dances.

Carmen looked up at her while his head was still bent down filling cups with ice, “Uhh, I haven’t really taken a look.”

Y/n doubted that but she didn’t want to protest, so she hid her insecurity behind jokes.

“You should, Mrs. Berzatto could be in this crowd.”

“I can guarantee you that they are not.” Carmen pushed. Y/n chuckled and Carmen could swear he saw her eyes glow.

“Hey, today has probably been really stressful. You can let go for a bit. You know, blow off some steam. There are plenty of women who would love to give you a lap dance. You know that pretty blond has been eyeing you since she came in.” Y/n pointed in some general direction with a straw but Carmen didn’t even look up from the water cups.

Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes and was trying to decipher this puzzle she had put in front of him. She was telling him to go and talk to other women and even though her tone, face, and behavior was exactly the same as before, he couldn't shake off a faint undercurrent of tension emanating from her

“I like it here.”

“So you like to watch.” Y/n smirked while turning around to fill a styrofoam cup with sprite from the soda dispenser to cool herself. She was trying to be cool but it was coming off as vaguely threatening, she needed to get her shit together.

Carmen turned around so he was facing her direction then placed his elbows on the counter and looked up at her with those killer eyes, “Yeah I do.”

“Mr. Berzatto, have you been drinking you’ve gotten, dare I say, bold?”

Carmen raised his eyebrows in a joking manner and y/n could swear that she saw stars glisten in his irises. God, was he handsome or what?

“I think it's time to get this show on the road.” Y/n turned around to walk around the counter so she could hop on top, she couldn't do it from behind the counter because it was filled with liquor and cups and she would knock everything over. Just as y/n was going to walk out the counter, a muscular arm blocked her from leaving. She furrowed her eyebrows, and looked up at his eyes.

“You promised, you wouldn’t.”

“I can't get to the counter from here…why don’t you walk me over there, so that no one bothers me. Earn your keep bodyguard” Y/n softened her eyes to convince Carmen, and to her surprise he let out a sigh before removing his arm and leading her to the other side of the counter glaring at anyone who even thought about looking at y/n. Y/n’s dress was so tight and short that she couldn’t really get up without flashing everyone. She looked up at Carmen and told him about the situation she was in and how she needed a chair or something.

Carmen brought his face close to y/n so she could clearly hear, “Can I touch you?”

Holy…mother…of…fuck. Y/n’s brain flat lines and she stumbles out a quick and breathy “yes”.

Carmen put his hands on her waist and y/n linked her hands behind his neck and just as y/n was about to close the gap, she let out a yelp as she was hoisted onto the counter. She is starstruck, her heart is beating fast and she is resisting the urge to kiss him from up here. She had to remind herself that he was just being helpful.

"Tattoo?"

Y/n was a mess and she needed a few seconds to understand what he was saying, "It's fake, so that if anyone takes any pictures I can pretend it's not me." It took all of y/n's will power to connect these words together. It was getting hard to think.

Carmen took one more look at y/n stradling the counter before reaching over the counter to grab the same straw y/n used to point at some other women, and lighty dragged it across her knee.

“Your past the counter, chef”

Y/n was in a daze, her knee felt like it was on fire and that was just from a straw. She wordlessly got up on her knees and kneeled on the counter.

Carmen walked right back to behind the counter and passed her a heavy cup.

“For our guest of honor.” Carmen grinned. He was making her lose her breath, y/n was going to pass out and fall off this counter.

Y/n took the cup of water and a shot of tequila from Carmen. Their pinkies brushed each other and sent an electric shock up her arm.

“Make it hurt.”

Y/n gleamed. She turned towards the crowd and shouted out a short introduction before calling over the groom. She passed him the shot which he downed in record time, y/n shot a quick glance at Carmen, before splashing the water right on his face and just and he slightly relaxed his face from the original impact of the icy water, y/n gave him a loud and painful slap. The sound echoed through the restaurant, and it became silent for a brief second before cheers erupted from the crowd. The noise makes Richie peek his head inside to see what the commotion was about. The groom's face was already bright red from the alcohol and the ice and somehow the right side of his cheek looks like someone painted it scarlet, y/n gave a thumbs up to Carmen, who to her surprise returned one back. A line began to form and while y/n was making everyone pay for being annoying dicks, Carmen called over Richie.

“Its fucking boiling in here” Carmen commented, “Can you go into my office and turn the thermostat down to like 60-65 and grab my jacket.” Richie looked like he wanted to make some smart comment but the sound of another slap echoing derailed his train of thought. Richie took one look at y/n, and Carmen wanted to curse him out and punch him across the face, but he refrained. “Richie, the fucking thermostat.”

Richie complained but Carmen wasn’t paying attention and so he left and turned the thermostat down and threw the jacket over the counter.

“When is this shit show supposed to end?” Richie asked while judging the guests in the most unsubtle way possible.

“Two more hours.” Carmen said while looking at y/n. Richie rolled his eyes and left and Carmen was starting to feel the cold air coming from the air vent on top of them. Y/n was starting to feel chilly too and looked over at Carmen who was already handing her a nice wool jacket, his wool jacket. She slipped it on and Carmen felt like he could finally breathe. He was beating himself for not coming up with something like this sooner. The stupid shots were finished and y/n was ready to come down from the counter.

“My ass and thighs are numb.” Y/n said while rubbing them. Just as she looked up towards the crowd she saw that Carmen was right next to her ready to help her come down. Y/n was feeling bold, almost invincible from spending the last 30 minutes slapping men.

“Would you like a shot?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve seen a million guys take it, aren’t you curious?”

Carmen was struggling to come up with something to say, he didn’t even know how to react. “I have to drive you home.” His stare was making y/n feel like she was burning from the inside.

“A shot of water?” y/n offered.

Carmen thought to himself, what would he regret more? Taking the shot or not taking it?

He extended his hand towards the water pitcher behind the counter to pour himself a shot of water. Y/n grabbed one of the ice cups and scooped the ice with her left hand and dumped half of the remaining water on the already flooded floor. She wanted to avoid making this as painful as possible. Y/n took off the jacket and set it down on the counter next to her. She tucked her right hand in between her thighs to keep them warm so it would sting a lot less. Carmen took one long look at where her right hand was settled and then locked onto her eyes,

“Hit me with your best shot, chef.”

Carmen downed the shot before locking eyes with y/n. Y/n splashed the water on his face and gave him a solid slap. Not as hard as the others were getting but not so soft that she would be accused of chickening out. Carmen’s face whipped to the left before coming back to his previous position.

“How was that, chef?”

It must have been the lights or the fatigue but y/n could have sworn that he glanced at her lips. Carmen’s hands circle around y/n waist to bring her down. He carried her a few feet away from where they previously were so that y/n wouldn’t step on the puddle, set her down and walked her back behind the counter.

“I can understand the appeal.” Carmen murmured. Y/n looked at him incredulously before laughing in shock.

Y/n was about to tease him a bit before she heard shouting from the crowd. “Do you want to step out? I think I need a break”

Carmen welcomed a break. He handed y/n his jacket and ushered her outside where Richie was smoking. They had forgotten he was still there.

“It's nauseating in there.” Y/n exhaled.

Carmen pulled out a cigarette in an effort to calm down. They were no longer in a party where they could pretend they had no outside obligations. He had pushed the bounds of their relationship and he wondered if the lights, music, alcohol, and seclusion together was only affecting him. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Y/n crouched down because her feet were killing her. She could feel the blisters forming but she was going to be a trooper. All she wanted to do was lay down. Carmen crouched down to match her height and raised his eyebrows to ask what was wrong.

“I need to go to bed.”

“20 minutes left. You can wait in the car and get some rest. I can cover for you.”

“I need to see this place after it’s cleared out. I think I forgot what it looked like before we had it packed with drunk chodes.” That earned her a snicker from both Carmen and Richie.

A sense of tranquil silence enveloped them, providing y/n with a much-needed opportunity to gather her thoughts. She realized that she had to prevent herself from getting lost in the overwhelming depth of Carmen's presence. It was becoming clear that she had two choices: either distance herself from him entirely or bridge the gap between them, instead of remaining in their current state of avoidance, where everything seemed to be ignored.

Just as she was about to turn over to Carmen to ask him if he was free tomorrow night, a loud thump was heard inside the restaurant followed by a crash. Next came the screaming. Y/n and Carmen stood up and looked inside the window to see what got Richie to rush inside.

“Shit” Carmen exclaimed before running inside to stop the groomsmen from fighting. A wave of women ran out. Y/n didn’t go inside till the noise died down, she knew she would just get in the way. She pushed the door open and saw some guy laying on the ground with a bloody head. She scrambled to find a towel from the counter and then applied pressure on his head. Carmen had already called 911 and Richie was just staring with his eyes wide and hand on his head.

The next few hours were a blur. The ambulance picked up the guy that was knocked out. The police came and took Richie, and everyone else was either taken by police for questioning or they left for the cops to get there.

Y/n and Carmen were the only ones left standing on the pavement with little to no energy left. It felt like their bones were the only things holding them upright. Y/n didn’t have the energy to fill the empty space. So the trick to shutting her mouth was being tired, she could save herself from a lifetime of embarrassment by working herself to the bone so she wouldn’t have the energy to make a fool of herself.

She started snickering which slowly devolved to full laughter, she held on to Carmen’s arm to steady herself. Y/n from 5 hours ago would never have touched Carmen under any circumstances unless he initiated it first but she was losing it. She was starting to feel light, like this wasn’t real. Like she didn’t see Richie bash some fucker’s skull in. Or that she spent the last few hours flirting with her boss just for nothing to come from it. Carmen could only just watch.

“Let's get you home.” Carmen slowly ushered her towards his car.

Y/n laughter died down. “I can’t go home, not with Richie in jail.”

“You need some sleep”

“And you don’t? Where are you going after this? Visiting Richie?” Carmen didn’t reply or look up at her.

Y/n went back inside, grabbed her black jacket and ran as fast as her shitty heels and blisters would let her.

"I'm ready," y/n exclaimed with determination, taking confident strides towards Carmen's car. Carmen watched, momentarily transfixed and still processing the whirlwind of the past few hours. Y/n had laughed heartily as a coping mechanism, but inside, Carmen felt a deep sense of anguish, fearing the possibility of losing yet another loved one. He yearned to join in the laughter, knowing he couldn't do it without y/n by his side. Shaking off his thoughts, he quickly jogged over to where y/n stood, matching her pace as they proceeded towards the car together.

The car ride was silent, as both of them were fighting the urge to sleep. They got to the police station and y/n was so out of it she barely understood what groomsman status was and what would happen to Richie when the police officer explained it to her and Carmen. They were led to a seating area where they had to wait. Carmen threw his body on the bench and y/n followed suit. It was chilly and Carmen was wearing a shirt, so she slowly slipped off the jacket to hand it over. She felt firm pressure on her shoulders preventing her from bringing the jacket down.

“Keep it on, it's cold here” Carmen muttered.

“I have a jacket”

“It's too light.” Carmen’s eyes were drooping. Y/n sat back on the bench and tried to sleep sitting down but it wasn’t working. Carmen’s eyes were already closed so she shifted on the bench and laid her head on his lap.

Once Carmen had confirmed she was fully asleep, he draped her thin black jacket over her legs and floated into unconsciousness.

Carmen was shaken awake and woke up in a jolt. He eye’s meet Richie’s and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Aggravated Assault.”

Carmen let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Carmen wanted to get up but he saw that y/n was laying on his lap. He gently slipped out from under her and carried her on his back to his car. He did his very best to ignore everytime that she dug her face deeper into his neck but he was still beet red when he gently placed her in the backseat and put her seatbelt on.

Richie watched but didn’t have any motivation to say anything but a simple, “You got yourself a girlfriend, Carmy?”

“We’ll see when she wakes up.”

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

astermath · 10 months

Text

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

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#carmenmath #aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto writing #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto x y/n #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white fic #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto the bear fx

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carni-val · 6 months

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Carmen Berzatto Masterlist

When you know, you know

→ Carmy has a problem saying I love you, but he's got no problem showing it

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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bloatedandalone04 · 9 months

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It Comes Back

➪the one where you and lip are broken up (but not for long).

Warnings: swearing, shameless themes, mentions of alcohol, drinking, fake ass friends, angst, fluff, kissing (oh no), drunk reader, pet names.

Word Count: 3.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The pounding on the door never went away, despite Lip ignoring it for about five minutes now. If he didn’t do something about it soon, everyone in the house would wake up and he’d have a bigger problem to deal with.

He sits up from his lying position and stands up from the couch, making his way towards the front door with an irritated look on his face. Swinging the door open, he was met with the annoyed faces of your friends, Daneel and Marissa. “Fucking finally,” Marissa muttered and it was then when Lip noticed your slouched form. Your arms were draped over your friends’ shoulders as you struggled to stand up properly. “Ever heard of opening a door?”

“I just did,” he replied and narrowed his eyes at the way they were both doing a piss poor job at keeping you upright. “What’s wrong with her?” He tried to hide his concern, but there was no denying that he was more than a bit worried at the state you were currently in.

“She can’t handle alcohol to save her life,” Daneel grunted as she pushed your arm off her. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”

Lip glared at her as he instinctively reached out to grab your wrist before you were sent stumbling back. “How much has she had to drink?”

“Not a fucking clue,” Marissa laughed as she pushed you into the arms of your ex-boyfriend. “I lost count after her third beer.”

“Fuck,” he muttered as he held your nearly limp body against his chest with one hand. The other one reached up to brush away the messy strands of hair from your face, and his gaze softened at the sad expression you wore as you refused to meet his eyes. He looked back over at your friends and furrowed his brows when he saw that they were halfway down the stairs. “Hey, where the hell are you two going?”

“Back to the bar,” Daneel called back. “We just wanted to make sure Boozie over here got home safely.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t her house,” he pointed out, but his words didn’t seem to affect the two girls.

“Right, you guys broke up, didn’t you?” Marissa laughed quietly and gave Daneel a shrug. “Maybe that’s why she was so depressed tonight.”

They both laughed at that before waving at Lip and walking down the street.

“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he wrapped your arm around his shoulder and guided you inside. He sat you down on the couch where he previously was, before heading back towards the door and peeking out at the retreating forms of your friends. He scoffed and flipped them off before shutting the door loudly. He usually didn’t bother with locking it when it was just him and his family there, but since you were only a few feet away from him and drunk, he found himself twisting the lock.

Back in the living room, Lip finds your shivering form still on the couch. He noticed the way your arms were wrapped around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself up, so he took it upon himself to grab a blanket from off a pile of magazines that was near the window.

He draped it across your shoulders and watched as you gave him a drunken, grateful smile, before he sat down next to you. He tried not to think about the last time he was on the couch with you, back when the two of you broke up and you left the house in tears. It was hard to think that the time before that was when he had the house to himself for once and fucked you into the very cushions you were sitting on.

Lip had to hold back a groan at the memory of it. You were drunk and very clearly upset, and he needed to be there for you, despite it being just over a week and a half since you broke up.

“Thanks,” you murmur softly as you bury yourself in the blanket. As you inhaled the scent that was the Gallagher’s, your brows furrowed and your eyes closed a bit more. “Wait, why am I here?”

Lip shook his head and leaned back on the couch, his elbow pressing into the armrest as he huffed, “Because your so called friends are fucking idiots,” he muttered and turned his head to look at you. “I’ve told you that before, I don’t know why you hang out with them.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you give him a pathetic shrug. “Because they’re my friends,” you offer weakly and don’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes.

“Friends don’t pull the kind of shit that they just did,” he mumbled and desperately wanted to light a cigarette right now, but he didn’t want to leave you unattended. “Fuck, I mean…we’re fucking friends, and I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t leave you.”

Lip wasn’t actually sure where he stood with you. You were exes, sure, but friends? He had no clue if you were even friends at this point, but the whole relationship had originally started out as a friendship, so it wasn’t like you two couldn’t go back to that, no matter how much he hated the thought of just being your friend.

“I was ruining their night,” you weakly tried defending your friends while also calling yourself out.

Lip scoffed. “They told you that?”

You shake your head and inch closer to him, your body beginning to feel weak with fatigue. “They didn’t have to,” you mumbled. “I could tell I was being a wallflower, and they shouldn’t have to babysit me all night long just because I can’t get my shit together.”

He shook his head at your words. You were always one to defend the fucking idiots in your life, himself included whenever you stuck your neck out for him when you were still together. He tried to ignore the way you leaned even closer to him and was barely able to keep yourself upright. “They shouldn’t have invited you out in the first place when they knew you weren’t in the right state of mind to drink as much as you did,” he said, before quickly adding. “Which was fucking dumb, by the way. What were you thinking? You can barely handle one beer, let alone three.”

You look down at his lap, embarrassment washing over you at his tone. You felt like he was your parent and lecturing you about sticking to your limit when out at the bar, but he really wasn’t much better. “I was thinking about you,” you mutter and see his head turn to face you out of the corner of your eye. “I’m always thinking about you, and for one night, just one fucking night, I wanted to forget. I want to forget you.”

Lip felt his heart deflate a bit at that, but he knew you were completely wasted, and he held onto that fact. There was no way you meant that, right? You had been together for nearly two years before calling it quits, and he’d hate to think he hurt you so much that you were beginning to regret getting with him in the first place.

He wasn’t able to wallow in self pity for much longer, as you continued before he could even think about how to respond to that, “I still want you, still love you and I wish I never met you,”

Your words caught him off guard, and he really wanted that cigarette now.

He looked over at you and felt his shoulders tense up at the sad expression you wore. You weren’t making any sense, and he could only hope you would feel up to talk to him about this in the morning, when you were sober.

For a minute, Lip let himself go back to when you were both so happy and together. He found himself getting lost in how it felt to be so close to you again, and how much he missed being around you, how much he missed you. “You should get some sleep, baby,” the name slipped past his lips before he could even stop himself, so used to calling you that, but you didn’t seem to mind as you just nodded. “You’re going to feel fucked up tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes and leaned towards him. He was about to stand up so you could lay down properly on the couch, but stopped when you blindly reached out to push him back down. When he is sitting down again, you wrap the blanket further around you before laying your head down on his thigh and using it as a pillow.

Lip couldn’t move now even if he wanted to, and he really didn’t, as you fell asleep almost instantly. He sighed as he ran his fingers through your hair and glanced at the clock. The time read 2:35 in the morning, and he wondered just how much of this you would remember when you woke up in a few hours.

He woke up the next morning when Fiona had made her way down the stairs, her being the first of many Gallagher’s to wake up. He lifted his head up from where it had tilted back against the top of the couch sometime last night when he fell asleep, and groaned quietly at the stiff muscles in his neck.

As his older sister passed by the door frame, she stopped and backtracked when she caught sight of you with your head still resting on his thigh, and your arm draped over his knee. She furrowed her brows as she mouthed, “Are you back together?”

Lip shook his head and watched the glimmer of hope fade from her face as the sound of Ian bounding down the stairs was heard throughout the house. “Oh, shit,” he said in surprise when he, too, saw you on the couch. “Are you guys back together?”

Fiona answered for her brother, “No, they’re not,”

Ian looked confused as he asked, “Then why is she sleeping on you?”

“Her fuckhead friends dropped her off here last night,” Lip said and looked down at you, the movement making his neck ache but he didn’t mind it as he caught sight of the way your lashes fluttered against your cheek. “Apparently she ruined their fun by drinking too much.”

Fiona cringed as she grabbed a mug. “Poor girl,”

Debbie was next to walk down the stairs, and her loud morning voice was what woke you up. Lip’s thigh was sore as you slowly lifted your head from it, and he decided that he liked it when you fell asleep on his chest a lot better.

Your eyes are barely open as you sit up and immediately cover your ears when Debbie notices you. “Is that Y/n?!” She asked excitedly and ran over to you. You had no time to process anything as she threw herself at you in an embrace.

“Hi, Debs,” you mutter, clearly confused as you hardly return the hug before she pulls away.

“Knock it off,” Lip says as he tugs his sister away from you, knowing that you weren’t at all a morning person and were probably refraining from going off on the kid for waking you up.

“Yeah, Deb, lay off the sugar before bed,” Fiona says sternly as she hands you a mug. You take it from her and sip the coffee, grunting in disgust when you were met with a bitter taste. “Black coffee is the best way to reduce a hangover. Take it from me.”

You slouch back against the couch as you hold the mug with both hands, still in the process of waking up. Glancing to your right, you notice Lip still sitting next to you. “What happened last night?” You ask as you try to recall how exactly you ended up on your ex-boyfriend’s couch.

“You got drunk, like, really drunk, and Melissa and Danielle dropped you off here,”

“Melissa and Danielle?” You ask with a furrowed brow before realizing who he was talking about. “Oh, you mean Marissa and Daneel?”

“Same difference,” he muttered just as Carl came flying down the stairs in a mess of limbs.

He reached the bottom and shot up when he walked by the couch. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” he greeted you as if your presence here was a normal thing, and up until almost two weeks ago, it was.

You give him a half-assed wave before closing your eyes tightly and praying that you will survive the pounding in your head.

Fiona must have felt bad for you as she quickly gathered up a few lunch foods before throwing them in a couple of disposable brown bags. “Okay, time to let the drunk girl rest,” she said and guided Ian, Debbie, Carl and Liam towards the front door. “Time to go to school. Lip, I take it you’re staying home to look after her?” She nodded at you and he waved her off as he stood up.

“Yeah, yeah, I got her,” he said and walked into the kitchen.

Soon, the house was empty except for you and Lip, and you cower further into the couch as you listen to him rummage around in the next room. After drinking half of the gross coffee, you felt well enough to sit up properly and shrug the blanket off of you, hating how it smelled like your ex.

You place the mug on the coffee table just as he exits the kitchen with a plate in his hand. He sits next to you again, though a bit further away than before, and holds the plate out to you. “Toast?” You ask as you eye the food, ignoring the flutter in your heart at the fact that he had made you some form of breakfast, despite him not needing to.

“With jam,” he corrected with a quick smile before it was gone and you were shaking your head. “It’s all we have.”

“Thank you,” you take the plate from him and lift the toast up to your mouth, taking the smallest bite possible out of it.

“So,” he starts as you chew the lightly toasted piece of bread, hating that he knew your toast preferences so well. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

You put the toast back onto the plate and think about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Not really,” you answer and set the plate down on your lap. “Why? Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” he said, lifting his hand and massaging the stiffness out of the back of his neck. “Your scummy friends ditched you with me because you got drunk.”

You rolled your eyes and shove the plate back into his hands before grabbing the mug and standing up. “Just because you don’t like them, doesn’t mean they’re scummy,” you mutter and walk into the kitchen, finishing off the coffee and setting the mug down in the sink.

Lip scoffs as he bites into the toast he made for you. “No, them dropping you off at your ex-boyfriends house so they don’t have to keep an eye on you and to go get drunk makes them scummy,” he calls out to you and sets the half eaten toast on the plate, leaving it on the couch as he gets up to go after you. He finds you leaning against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him.

You were still in the black dress you wore to the bar last night, and he was pretty sure that it was his favorite one, as he recalls complimenting you every time you wore it out with him. “They’re not so bad,” you say quietly, and Lip was about done with hearing you defend the people who abandoned you.

“They’re the fucking worst,” he said, fed up. “I asked you this before, and even though you didn’t give me a decent answer then, I’m going to ask you again. Why the fuck do you continue to hang out with them?”

You shrug pathetically as you avoid eye contact with him. “Because they’re all I have,”

Lip shakes his head at that, not happy with your answer at all as he leaned against the fridge across from where you were. “That’s bullshit,” he grunted. “You had me, you still have me. Why do you let them treat you like that? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always let people walk all over you. Then you get pissed off with me when I call you out on it. Why?”

“It was too much,” you mumble and shake your head, crossing your arms tighter. “It felt so right with you, too right. You made this fucked up place seem. You, Fi, fuck, even Carl. You guys are a real family who look out for each other. I never had that, never felt like I deserved it. You know where I came from and what my life was like before I met you. That’s what I deserve, not this. Not you.”

Lip had never heard such nonsense in all his life. He had never heard you talk like that about yourself, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it. “You think you deserve to go back to that life? To how things were before I took you away from all that shit? You don’t,” he crossed his own arms, mirroring your stance as you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “You’re smart, but you’re also fucking dumb if you think I’m going to allow you to go back to that part of your life.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at how much he still clearly cared for you. “It’s not up to you,”

“Damn it, Y/n,” he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated at you now. “Why can’t you see yourself in the way that everyone else does? Daneel or Danielle or whoever the fuck she is dosn’t give a shit about you, and you shouldn’t give a shit about her, either.”

You knew he was right, you knew that Daneel and Marissa were the definition of fake friends, but you didn’t have much experience around those who cared for you. Between your friends, parents and your siblings, none of them treated you like how Lip and his family did. Could you really be blamed for believing that you weren’t worthy of him? “They’re all I have-”

“They’re not, baby,” he slipped up and called you by the name once again, but didn’t bother correcting himself as he stepped forward and grabbed your right hand in both of his. “They’re not and you know it. You have me, and my own fucked up family. You have us. You and me.”

You felt shy suddenly as you asked, “Still?” He places your hand flat against his chest so you could feel the steady beat of his heart, something that calms you down as you clarify your question. “I still have you?”

“Yes,’’ he answered and you don’t bother holding back a sigh of relief. “You still have me.”

“I’m sorry,” you nearly whispered, despite the two of you being the only ones in the house. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he said back, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Fuck, breaking up was the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

You hum in agreement as you bring your other hand up to rest against his chest while his reach down to grip your waist. “You regret it?”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed before pressing a quick kiss to the skin of your neck. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you, that’s why I was on the couch last night before you even got here.”

Your face heats up at that, as well at the feeling of his lips on your skin. “Really?”

Lip hummed as his forehead returned to yours.

“Well,” you trailed off as you slid your hands up his chest and set them on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. “We might have to do something about that. When was the last time you slept for more than a few hours?”

“When did we break up?”

“A week and a half ago,”

“About a week and a half ago,” he answered and you grinned for a second before he was closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in nearly two weeks.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher imagines #shameless #shameless us #shameless x reader #shameless imagine #philip gallagher #angst #fluff #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white

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