ticktokrobotsnot

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Recreational

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: Two chefs, one needs a distraction and the other needs anything but. 

Word Count: ~11k

Notes: This one has been stuck in my drafts for almost 6 months, google docs was my editor so if you mention any grammar/spelling mistakes I'm gonna blame Google lol.

--

Y/n always had the idea that life never let her be too happy. And not to be unnecessarily pessimistic or ungrateful for the good things that happened in her life, but it was really only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. To be completely honest, if she was remotely better at anything else or something else paid more, she wouldn’t have been a chef. She thought her career as a chef was the universe having a good laugh at her, making her a part of a culture so deeply rooted in making connections which she couldn't reciprocate.

“They aren’t your friends.” The lesson was so deeply ingrained into y/n’s psyche that it was impossible for her to even spare a simple congratulatory smile after finding out her co-worker had won a James Beard award a few years prior or give that same co-worker a nod of approval when he retained a star. They were at best two instruments in the same tool kit, easily replaceable to the other, and y/n wasn’t going to offer an olive branch. 

The French Laundry’s kitchen had perfected the skill to make even the best chefs throw their thousand dollar knife in a huff and quit on the spot. The head chef was a maestro of pushing buttons, ensuring a constant undercurrent of tension that never reached extreme highs because, in that kitchen, there was never a low.

That was before y/n was hired. There were chefs with better referrals, more experience, were more likable but there was something in her that put her above the rest, she didn’t crack. 

She didn’t flinch when the head chef lowered himself to her level, still towering over her, and told her that she didn’t deserve to be there in the middle of a dinner rush on her first week. 

Carmen kept his head down, anticipating the impending sobs and sniffles. However, as moments of silence stretched on, he resisted the unseen force compelling him to remain bowed. Slowly lifting his gaze, he noticed her studying the head chef as if extracting more from his irises than his words. Her eyes then swept over the rest of the staff before locking onto Carmen's. There, in that shared glance, he sensed her silent inquiry, a question of whether he, the second in command with a James Beard award and a Michelin star, was a coward.

He bowed down, focusing on the plate in front of him and pretending to wipe a nonexistent splatter.

The silence echoed while the rest of the chefs continued to slice, dice, and stir not sparing a glance, this was nothing new. When the head chef figured that she wouldn’t say anything back, he sauntered over to his next victim. Carmen lifted his head one more time, there was nothing he could do to comfort her if she was a mess but he already knew which chef would have to take over for her while she sobbed in the freezer. He was met with her side profile, she was smirking.

For a brief moment it felt like Carmen finally got a good look at her since she had been hired a week ago. It took a few moments for Carmen to decipher her expression. She was unimpressed with him, the head chef, and the kitchen. It wasn’t possible to be unimpressed and here she was looking at everyone like she was a parent listening to the squabbles of an irritable child, it was different.

She was a dangerous person because her small stunt inspired him to do something he had never done in the French Laundry, roll his eyes when the head chef left after his criticism. It was a small taste of delicious, slippery, freedom that was bound to kill him later. The day ended and Carmen didn’t even notice that he was walking up to her until he was right in front of her. 

Y/n was expecting an apology and Carmen was expecting an opening to start talking, something had to give but it was too raw to do that here. After one more glance, Carmen started parting his lips but y/n slipped right past him and walked out. 

They aren’t your friends.

Y/n had many aspirations growing up: pop-star, astronaut, scientist, and ice-cream vendor. As she got older the list matured, and consequently shortened. It didn't take much for her to enroll in culinary school, a decision made almost impulsively. 

In the busy kitchen, amid clattering pots and the aromatic dance of ingredients, she watched chefs passionately invest themselves in each dish. She had heard stories from her colleagues, the heartfelt narratives that bound them to their culinary journey, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of shame that she couldn’t reciprocate. Her presence in the kitchen wasn't driven by sentimental attachments to food; she was here for a paycheck, a stark contrast to the fervor surrounding her. As she navigated the world of flavors and aromas, she grappled with the solitude of her own motivations, wondering if there was space for her in a profession driven by love, memories, and a deep connection to the culinary craft.

Unable to reciprocate the profound connections others sought, a sense of bitterness and unrest festered within her. Her internal conflict wasn't born out of disdain for those more accomplished; instead, it stemmed from a profound inability to fathom the emotional intricacies that seemed to drive others but couldn’t seem to reach her. 

Y/n didn’t allow herself to confront a nuanced flaw—projecting her perception of routine loneliness onto the world, all while unconsciously imposing a self-isolation rooted in a complex interplay of guardedness and yearning for genuine connection. She kept herself busy by watching, judging, others in the hopes that eventually she would see something that clicked. 

Y/n spent the next few years in relative ease even if every single soul in the French Laundry were a bunch of battered devotees, who regularly got verbally and emotionally beaten black and blue, but still came crawling back. It was almost humorous to watch all the chefs line up to leave and look like they just had their soul siphoned out from their puckered assholes. 

Carmen felt like a cautionary tale to her, never getting too involved. He had crafted his own prison cell, a second in command with no real power, no life outside of work, and y/n bet he told himself that this was his peak. His self created pathetic life was so intensely interesting to y/n that she resisted asking about his life so she never made the same mistakes. But the way his focus scattered across the kitchen told her that he didn’t know why he was like this either. 

He didn’t come to work on a Friday, which was a bit of a shock, and it rippled when she walked in on some janitor emptying his locker a few days later, and just like that, Carmen was gone from her life. 

Months went by and by then y/n had completely forgotten about the chef that wasn’t strong enough until she saw browsing a food blog, and she found a name that she thought she would never see again. A post about a restaurant in Chicago that had served yet another "dish to die for". She refreshed the page a few more times, wondering if this was someone with a similar name but after a bit of sleuthing, a slightly blurry google review photo, it was undeniable, Carmen was indeed in Chicago. 

They shared certain similarities—they had comparable resumes, education, and paychecks. Given the exorbitant rents in New York, it was likely that their living expenses were almost identical. They were both engulfed in the demanding world of cooking, leaving little time for anything else. Yet, despite these parallels, a puzzling question lingered: why did Carmen have the financial freedom to make a spontaneous departure, a luxury y/n had yearned for but couldn't grasp for years?

Y/n wished that she felt that pulling force, like seeing a familiar face after a long time bloomed an ache in her heart. She spent a few moments trying to will her heart string to pull but she was unsuccessful. She was looking for a reason to leave the French Laundry and she was hoping that Carmen’s scribble tattoos, wavy hair, nauseatingly blue eyes would make a path for her to escape, or at least reveal what gave him that final push. 

She liked the restaurant that she used to work at, a local hotspot that was known for its penne alla vodka and other vaguely Italian dishes. Over there she was the hotshot young chef freshly graduating from the CIA and was leagues above anyone else. No one towered over her asking if she knew what she was doing, no one ever asked her if she remembered to stir the roux, or if she was an assistant. The only reason she left was because her student debt was closing in and she was exhausted from constantly debating if she should buy a replacement for her shitty knife or groceries for the month. Being poor was so tiring that y/n caved when someone came in with a job offer. As much as she hated the French Laundry it graced her with a different type of freedom, the freedom to not worry about if she could afford to survive. 

She waited till The Beef closed to give them a call, and unsurprisingly someone picked up with a heavy sigh, “ We are closed.” and then hung up. Y/n dialed again, “I need to speak to Berzatto.”

“Yo Cousin, some chick is looking for you.” A muffled, we’re closed, was heard but y/n insisted.

“We worked together in the French L-.”

“She says she’s French or something.” And before y/n could correct, Carmen was handed the phone. 

“The fuck do you mean French?” Still arguing with the guy with a gruff voice.

“Maybe it's a "pro" you sobbed in front of in France, you virgin. I don’t know your fucking life.” 

“French Laundry.” Y/n interrupted and just like that Carmen was glued to the phone. 

“Y/n?” Y/n ignored that he was able to recognize her voice even after all this time and how that made her almost soften her voice. 

“I’m in Chicago for a few days, when can I stop by.” 

“You want to come?" Carmen hastily recovered, "You can come when you can but we are doing some renovations and it's a mess-'' 

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.” And with that y/n  hung up and emailed HR that she would be out for the week because she was sick. 

The Chicago air was unbearably similar to New York's and y/n was glad she didn’t have to spend too many miles on the same shitty city. And Carmen understated the “renovations”, it was a gut. The door scraped open dragging the paint cans that were leaning it. The door isn’t the working issue, it's the fact that the whole restaurant looked like it was on the verge of being classified as a collection of bare load bearing pillars and plastic tarp. Y/n was glad that she settled for sneakers because heels were begging for her to eat shit. 

“Ms. New York!” The man with a gruff voice yells with laced hostility, alerting everyone.

The echoing music was promptly shot off as curious onlookers tried to decipher why an unknown woman was waddling through a battlefield of loose nails and scattered sawdust.

Y/n didn’t have to look long before Carmen came tumbling out the kitchen door, looking at her like she was glowing. Y/n wordlessly walked over to him and extended her hand and much to her shock the shake was firm, eager even, the last time they shook hands was when y/n had to take a photo with him 3 years ago for Gastronomica. Y/n was the first to slip her hand away, not remarking on his softened calluses, it seems like he hadn’t done much cooking lately. 

Carmen ushered them towards the kitchen and held the door open for her, the room was empty and oddly quiet. They were holding the work outside so they could hear what they assumed would be confessions and passionate love making. 

Carmen probably sensed it too because he took them to what looked like the skeletons of an office. 

They both stood against the wall on completely opposite ends, their words would have to fill the gap. Carmen parted his lips a few times trying to formulate what he practiced last night but all the words seemed to die in his throat. His staggered inhale was followed by a soft, “What brings you here? I mean I’m glad you're here-”

“I wanted to know what you were up to.” Y/n twirled a strand of hair, looking into his eyes trying to relearn him again. 

Carmen’s breath stalled as he fiddled with his apron to avoid eye contact. “I’m running this place now so-” Carmen’s eyebrows furrowed, “How did you know where I was?”

“I saw the restaurant in a blog and thought I would….” Y/n noticed him deflate, trying to figure out from disappointment or finally relaxing. 

“I thought I would get something to eat but it seems like…” Y/n waved her hands at the bare walls, “That's not gonna happen.” She let out a soft chuckle but was a bit peeved that Carmen wasn’t doing anything but staring at her. 

Y/n crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, Carmen sighed and thumped his head softly on the wall behind him. Being across from him, gave y/n a familiar view of Carmen at the end of shift, pitiful and enervated. Y/n didn’t fail to notice that his arms had gotten bigger.

“Manual labor suits you.” Carmen let out an embarrassed but bemused “ha” as he failed to stop his lips from curling up. 

“Yeah, I have to do a lot by myself. Don’t exactly have the funds to be hiring a million contractors to do shit.”

“How do you afford all this?” Y/n lifted her gaze and tried to not look too eager. 

"A ton of loans. We're barely holding it together," he admitted with a soft chuckle, passing some papers to y/n. As he continued, Carmen listed the financial burdens on his shoulders, payroll for the chefs, government permits, contractors, vendors, appliance suppliers,each itemized until it culminated in a big, fat, red zero that highlighted the crushing reality of y/n's shattered dreams. There was no money left; they couldn't afford to keep her. The devastating truth settled in, she couldn't afford to work here, and Carmen couldn't afford to save her. 

Carmen walked over to the desk between them before plopping on his chair and balanced his head on his right fist as he looked up to y/n.

“What are you doing right now?” Carmen asked, the new view let him see more of y/n, which she didn’t know if she liked.

“I'm still at the French Laundry, it pays the bills, Carmen.” The air stilled and all the oxygen in his lungs contracted in his lungs as his name echoed in the otherwise silent room. He wasn’t Berzatto anymore. Y/n’s small smirk was enough of a reaction for Carmen to solidify that he had no clue about the women in front of him. 

As she basked in the lull, she extended her leg to stretch them out to, noticing that it wouldn’t take much effort for her to put her foot on one of the legs of his chair and roll him closer. Y/n wasn’t without decency so she resisted messing with Carmen anymore. She was being stupid and immature, it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t help her, but a part of her still yearned to inflict some measure of discomfort on him.

“Enough about me…what have you been up to?” He was finally worth talking to, y/n thought. He would finally have something of value that she couldn’t get out of any other seasoned chef, a spark behind his eyes. Maybe there was something else that gave him the power to come here, something that could move her too. 

“I'm taking over the restaurant from my brother and we are remodeling and shit to make it…a spot.” He realized how stupid he sounded when he said it outloud. 

Y/n’s lips quivered downward, he was taking over a family obligation. He didn’t unlock any of the universe’s secrets that he could share with her, that would make the road ahead clear. He really couldn’t help her. The crushing feeling in her chest was worsened when he carelessly tossed out, “You could work here, ya know?”

A pile of bills at home dared her to throw caution to the wind and fail spectacularly. Y/n shut down any part of her that could have been swayed and diverted instead.

“What are you serving?” 

“You would be head chef, y/n.” Carmen's intense gaze made her look at him in bewilderment.

“It’s not a good fit.” Y/n pressed with a self-assured chuckle.

“Syd would be number 2 and I can focus on the business shit-” 

Y/n wasn’t going to justify his ridiculous proposition with a response, so she gave him a pointed look before asking a final time, “What are you serving?”

“Whatever I want.” His eyes focused on y/n’s, almost daring her to be enticed by the freedom.

Y/n's stomach somersaulted. The room around them seemed to close in as the weight of the unknown pressed against her. Y/n grappled with the question of what she had truly come for. The initial curiosity about his past now collided with the reality that the person standing before her was somehow a deity that had broken free from the shackles of depriving the self from freedom but also a mortal with dangerous arrogance that she couldn’t replicate. 

“You finished the menu?” 

Carmen nodded as his eyes wrinkled.

“Show me the menu.” 

“You’ll see it on opening night.” Carmen leaned back in self-assurance.

“I won’t be back.” Y/n briskly asserted as she went back to twirling her hair and crossing her arms.

Y/n heard a chuckle and a soft, “Doubtful”. Just as she lifted her head to argue, the words were gone and so was Carmen, who was at the door now, holding it open for her.

“You're the worst, you know that?” She presented him with a vicious side eye. “I came all the way to the menu, you know.” That wasn’t remotely true.

“You can see the kitchen.” His hand hovered over the small of her back before catching himself and slipping his hand back down. 

Carmen gave a run down on where the stove would go in relation with the expo, being mindful of speed but also spatial restriction. Y/n walked with him wondering if she would care enough about the minutia to organize a restaurant from the ground up like this. Her fingertips grazed the silver gas stove, teh cool metal brought back memories of working in LA. His expo covered in plastic wrap was the exact one she saw in her first internship. And most damning of all, Carmen specially picked out everything; so just like y/n, he had a story to tell with each piece. 

His eyes shimmered as he talked about not beating his time around the kitchen yet, and y/n felt her stomach roll over as a wave of… something rolled over her. 

Eventually, Carmen led her out to the front where she talked about table choices and the lighting to match, her eye’s glazed in wonderment wondering if the version of Carmen that cared about interior design was always a part of him or if it was a new development. Just as she was about to ask, Richie interrupted her.

“We’ve held it long enough, I think we would ALL love to know who you are.” He spread out his arms and nodded like a politician who was, “asking the real questions”. Y/n went from floating around the kitchen to being slammed shut in a bird cage. 

“Ms. New York didn’t give it away?” Y/n replied, doing her best to ignore the nagging whispers in her head telling her she wasn't wanted here. 

“Then why are you here?” He challenged right back, pointing an accusatory finger at her before migrating it to Carmen, “Why is she here?” The urge to run away tugged at her, to a place where it didn't matter if people liked her.

Carmen squinted his eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh, y/n could tell he was used to Richie’s machinations. Looks like the three of them didn’t know why y/n was here.

“Just ignore him, that's Tina..” pointing at an older woman who looked like she was just about to leave. 

“..Nat” was buried in a binder but her head still shot up and smiled which y/n politely reciprocated.

“.. and Syd '', who looked pissed that y/n was here, y/n looked at her hands clasping a notebook. Recipes…a menu…y/n tucked her lips to hide her laugh, they didn’t have a menu to show and she had interrupted their brainstorming session. Y/n made a mental note that Carmen wrinkled his eyes when he lied.

“I was just in the neighborhood, and I'm just about to leave.” She walked towards the exit, not failing to notice that Carmen was in hot pursuit.

It didn’t take a genius to know he was going to offer her a ride so she beat him to it, “I’ve taken enough of your time.” 

And just as Carmen was about to say something, Y/n hid her disappointment with a  smirk, “I’ll let you get back to making that menu.” Y/n caught a quick glimpse of shock before the door swung open and she walked the Chicago streets wondering if she got what she was looking for. 

This place wasn’t for her at all, and no amount of small town romance novels could convince her to leave her cushy job with a bunch of pompous clowns for a DIY restaurant. Her heart quickened as she allowed herself to be momentarily seduced by the idea, only to shatter any hopeful illusions with the harsh reality that Carmen couldn't rescue her from her financial nightmare. She needed a paycheck, a big one, and Carmen couldn't give it to her; he could barely afford the stove he wanted. It was almost cruel to give her a taste, let her acquire it, and then realize that she couldn’t have it. 

Y/n went back to her hotel and had the difficult choice between watching Pawnshop or Diners, Drivers and Dives when she got a text message from an unknown number. 

I’m off tomorrow, let me take you somewhere other than a construction site. 

Y/n let herself have one last taste of freedom and dialed the number, “Who’s this?” she asked to tease Carmen.

She could hear Carmen’s grin loud and clear as he gave her a soft, “The worst person ever.”

Y/n laid flat on her bed and made herself forget that he didn’t have a backbone, that he ran away without a word like a coward, and (most damning to her) he couldn’t save her. She pushed the part of her that screamed that she should run away before they realized they didn’t fit because right now, she wasn’t talking to Berzatto. He was Carmen. He had dreams and aspirations that were bigger than him or maybe just as big as him. He was working hard and confident; everything else he wasn't in New York.  

As she confirmed a good time for tomorrow, she sat up on her bed as she said her goodbye.

“Have a good night, Carmen.”

Y/n had trouble falling asleep that night. 

**

The week had reached its end a lot quicker than y/n thought it would. Before she knew it she had repacked her life back into her suitcase and was sitting at her gate waiting for boarding to start. 

Y/n had her legs propped up on her carry-on, balancing an egregiously priced coffee in one hand and a book in the other. It’s not like the book was any good, it was an autobiography about a famous chef who had died of cancer. She recalled her outing with Carmen a few days prior.

The pans that y/n had to use in her shitty old apartment were non-stick because she couldn’t afford the non-cancer kind till after she graduated from the CIA. She remembered joking with her classmates about it while they were learning how to take apart a chicken, and everyone gasped in disgust. Y/n gave a careless grin while hiding her warming cheeks and mentally punching herself for even saying that out loud. 

Her birthday came around and all of her classmates pitched in for a set of pans, non-stick pans. She laughed with her friends, went home and invited them for dinner made entirely from the pans and watched as they ate their dishes, nodding in pretentious considerment, not knowing it was made on Teflon and wondered if this is how that guy who served his customers human meat felt. 

Y/n told the story to Carmen during their lunch at a Korean restaurant and felt a surge run through her as he met her eyes and instead of laughing at what was meant to be a humorous story and mumbled, “That was shitty.”

Y/n’s lips parted as her eyebrows furrowed in anger and, more embarrassingly, shame. 

Before she could defend herself, Carmen added, “I wouldn’t call those friends.” 

He played with the condensation on his glass, y/n knew better to look down at him playing with the wetness with his pointer and thumb. 

“That’s how it is there. How was your first week here?” Y/n sipped her soup.

“I lost my knife, found it beat up on the floor. I would have quit if I could.” Carmen gave a soft chuckle and y/n hated that she wanted to know more about him. 

“Which knife?”

“It was the Yoshimi.” 

Y/n quirked her lips up, “I remember when you first got it.” Carmen looked up quizzically.

“It was a shit show.” The head chef was not in a good mood and Carmen pulled up, with a pep in his step and a new knife, begging to be shot down. Honestly, y/n was surprised that Carmen didn’t kill anyone that day. 

Y/n’s flight had started boarding so she threw all of her stuff in her bag while fishing for her passport. In her hustle she missed her phone vibrating till she was in her seat trying to catch her breath from shoving her overloaded carry-on in the ever shrinking compartment. 

You got on yet?

Just sat down, TSA sucks ass, might have to start working out bc im winded rn.

Have a safe flight. 

Y/n finally made it home and just as she was about to pass out, she quickly texted a picture of her exhausted face with a cringy thumbs up, she would regret that in the morning. 

Y/n fell right back into her regular rhythm, with two new additions. She had started running in the morning. The other thing was a new pen pal, of sorts. 

They tried texting more regularly for the first few weeks but their schedules were too different so they had simplified it to a photo every few days. 

The Bear  

Y/n got the photo on her train ride home after months of “talking”, a picture of a decal on the restaurant window, y/n didn’t miss Carmen’s furrowed eyebrows and grimace from having to be out in the sun to take the picture. His reflection exposed his paint stained t-shirt and y/n rubbed her eyes to check that his arms had in fact gotten bigger. 

Y/n sent out the first actual text message in months, Why The Bear?

She saw the bubbles disappear and reappear a few time before settling on,

Come and find out

Y/n snickered and the women sitting next to her gave her a side eye as she got up to leave. 

I don’t want to install appliances or check the plumbing for free. 

Carmen texted back uncharacteristically fast, maybe they had shot down texting too soon. 

“Don't want to” or “don’t know how to”?

Y/n squinted her eyes, he should believe her even if she was lying. She texted a middle finger back. You should be so lucky to see my trade skills in action, I could have been your contractor and it's sexist that you think otherwise.  

I’ll settle with you coming by as a guest.

Y/n called him, it was a split second decision that she didn’t have time to regret. He picked up just as quickly as she called. 

“I’m not coming back if you guys are still building shit.” Y/n asserted as she unlocked her front door. 

“We finished that a while ago, now it's real shit this time.” There was faint rustling in the background and what y/n could decipher as yelling. 

“Yeah?”

“We're missing some stuff, repair guys to call, and we still have some vendors to deal with but doors open in a few weeks.”

Y/n giggled, “Sounds like you're cutting it close, Carmen.” There was rustling heard on the other end, “You can probably get all that shit done with time to spare if you don’t get distracted.”

A laugh erupted from the other end, Richie’s. 

“He’s plenty distracted, got himself a girlfriend.” Y/n stomach fell to her ass as she stood in her kitchen with her work bag still slung on her shoulders.

“Really?” she croaked out. Richie must have slapped Carmen on the back because she heard him slap Richie back. 

“Ignore him. Doors open on the 1st.” The line stayed quiet for a second. 

“I’ll see if I can make it, but you know it gets.” Y/n wasn’t going to make it, she was taking it out of the calendar right now.

A door closed on his end and the line was disconnected. 

Before y/n could chuck her phone at her couch and sleep off her day, it rang again. Facetime. 

Y/n picked up and was met with a new setting. Carmen noticed her slight confusion. 

“New office, what do you think?” He propped his phone up and angled his body so she would see his fully stocked bookshelf. If y/n didn’t know any better she would have assumed that he was trying to impress her. 

“Dewey Decimal?”

“Alphabetical.” He pulled out a book and showed her the self-made label on the bottom that proved that it was in fact in alphabetical order. 

Y/n let herself be a bit difficult, “Your handwriting leaves something to be desired.”

Carmen covered his smirk with his tattooed hand before locking into her eyes,”Why don’t you come over and help me out?”

Y/n almost let herself fold before recollecting herself, “Unless you plan on working part time for our HR department, I don’t see that PTO being approved.”

“Sick days?” 

“Why don’t you come back to New York. Wanna slice oranges for our tarte á l’orange? Maggie misses you.” Y/n was referring to the kitchen’s pastry chef who didn’t miss Carmen in the slightest. 

“Are you opening a restaurant?” Y/n was a bit floored that she was getting sass from a man who put his jeans in an oven and shirts in kitchen cupboards. 

“Are you? Looks like your team thinks you're distracted? If I didn’t know any better I would say you're calling me to distract yourself from calling the repair guy.” 

“He can wait… tell me what I have to do to make this happen.”

“I took a week off, and we live in a capitalist hellscape so I already used up my PTO for the year. Don’t worry, I’ll make it to the next one.”

“You think I'm good enough to franchise.” Carmen ran his hands through his hair as he laughed and y/n cheeks warmed as his shirt slightly lifted as he leaned back.  

“No, when this one fails and you have to make it another Mcdonalds.” Carmen gave her an adoring smile that made her wonder if he heard something else. 

He put his right leg on his knee and spun in his chair, thinking. 

“It’s better if I don’t come, what if your team hates me or worse they love me, force me to be their leader, and kick you to the sidelines.”

“I can be on the sidelines for you.” Y/n ignored the fluttering in her stomach. 

“I’ll see…”She offered.

Carmen let out a sigh and y/n almost felt bad but the distance was good. They didn’t work together anymore, they texted irregularly, they barely were face to face, and it was working for them. 

She was forgetting the man who froze like a battered dog when she was being shredded in the kitchen, and she could forgive him for being selfish because now he was too far away for it to affect her. Closing the gap risked her relearning why she didn’t get close to him in the first place.  

His lips parted like he was constructing the words.

“What?” Y/n was just about ready to hang up and get ready for bed. 

“I just…I don’t know. I thought that I could…you would see something different.”

“It’s a restaurant, I've seen plenty of those.” 

“It’s different, I swear. I worked hard on shit and it's new and different. It's …better.” A chef analogizing his restaurant to represent himself was so unoriginal y/n would have laughed in their faces if it wasn’t Carmen.

“I’ll save you a table.” He offered.

“Looks like you’ve got a lot of tables to save.” Carmen quirked up his eyebrows.

“Your sister s, Sydney’s dad, Richie’s friends, me. Are there going to be any tables left for customers?”

“I need them all there, y/n.” He didn’t need to say her name but it still reverberated inside of her sending a shiver down her spine. In response, y/n felt a warm wave of relief wash over her, knowing that she couldn’t quite explain why that felt good to hear.

“I'm nobody.” Y/n squinted her eyebrows in doubt. 

There's a hint of desperation in his voice, as if he's been searching for something that y/n couldn’t figure out, “You saw me in New York and here so you're the only person who can compare the two. I don’t have anyone like that left.” Carmen rounded his eyes in closeted adoration and y/n’s throat closed up.

“I’ll see what I can do but no promises. I have to go… don’t forget to call the fridge guy.”

Y/n was a strong independent woman who built her own furniture, threw out her own trash, and even back out by putting an arm around the passage seat headrest so when she got an email the next day with tickets to Chicago, her head began to swim.

Her phone buzzed, Meet me halfway.

Y/n left him on read and gave herself the freedom that Carmen had unknowingly denied her. 

–

Birthdays were never y/n’s favorite holiday, she didn’t bother taking the day off and she stopped telling people since her CIA days, so she felt a little disgusted when grown adults would make a whole situation about this day. Celebrating birthdays in a restaurant was annoying for the kitchen but celebrating management’s family birthdays made y/n nearly quit every year. 

It came around like clock work, just as she forgot about it, her boss's friend's (or whoever) birthday would roll around and she had to remind herself that the only reason she still had a job here was because she didn’t break down in hysterics and the only reason she stayed was because the bill wouldn’t stop just because she disliked her job. 

It had already been a month since she and Carmen last spoke, they went back to curt messages. Y/n couldn’t help herself from texting back even though she knew better. The last message was a picture of Carmen in front of a finished kitchen, he puckered his lips to hide the full grin and seeing such joy, even if it was from a photo, was infecting every corner of her mind. 

The week was just as difficult as it always was, and the last thing y/n wanted to do was a large dinner like this but it was like the universe wanted to beat her numb. 

Y/n forgot to mention that the HVAC system had gone down for the afternoon and it was still over 100 degrees in the kitchen. As she chopped some chives, she ignored the expo coughing, and she walked over her collapsed body when expo inevitably passed out, to grab some more butter from the walk-in.

Y/n stole a glance from the corner of her eyes, they had no expo and a full house. Y/n puckered her lips in hidden contentment when the head chef practically roared and the unconscious women to get up and y/n swallowed a laugh when he had enough and started to manage the expo. 

Y/n’s eyes darted to her left and finally felt that Carmen wasn’t working there. He had long been replaced, twice over, and y/n went back to her foie gras terrines trying to figure out why it even mattered now. 

As orders were being barked and a rehearsed chorus of, “Chef” played back, y/n stalled her knife noticing that the pitch was off. It was missing the bass of a chef that had left just about everything to run away and was trying to convince her to do the same.

“WHERE THE HELL IS THE CONSOMME FOR 14?” 

For the first time in years, y/n flinched. It wasn’t noticeable barring the fact that her little jump made her slice her finger. Her breath picked up as the blood pooled over the chives, she grabbed her cutting board and dumped the herbs in the trash and grabbed another board. She pressed the kitchen towel deeper into her finger, trying to remember where the first aid kit was from her orientation week. 

Just as y/n was about to run to the stove to cauterize the wound herself so she could keep working, someone grabbed her arm and handed her a bandaid. She looked up to give them a silent thank you but they were gone. She hastily wrapped herself up and tried to lean inconspicuously on the counter because heat was getting to her too. 

A few minutes later when by and y/n had fallen back to her usual rhythm even as a waiter walked in, she had learned to ignore waitstaff when they entered the kitchen because they never brought good news. Y/n could feel a piercing glare on her back.

“You sent out a Coq au Vin, chef?” Y/n didn’t have to look up to know he was talking to her but she still met his searing glare.

“15 minutes ago, chef.” Y/n resisted wiping the bead of sweat that was torturously grazing down her face.

He stared her down like he was waiting for her to admit that she had actually eaten it, she kept her nose high and bit her tongue to stifle the grimace that was forming. 

“It's missing.” An ugly pause passed throughout the kitchen, she had almost convinced herself that she hadn’t actually finished it but the shift in his gaze brought her back to reality, he remembered her bringing it to him. 

In the smelting kitchen, in her cramped corner, with her chef whites sticking to her, she almost let this pathetic man think he knew more than her.

The command echoed out of her before she could contain herself, “Refiring the coq au vin.”

A familiar chorus of, “Chef” was missing its usual thoughtlessness, y/n wasn’t supposed to do anything till the head chef told her, she had given herself a command, it was sacrilege. 

Y/n was never a target, she watched as others were shot down time and time again, and moved on when she saw them break down crying in the middle of a dinner rush. The most she could give them was aloofness but as she stood in her corner, drowning in orders, and having every single one sent back from expo to redo, or having to wait longer for plates then everyone else and getting reamed for her dishes coming in late, she felt the weight of the kitchen’s gaze on her shoulders and wished someone one was there for her.

She kept her face composed as she finished up the last of her orders, her vision swaying from dehydration. Just as she was about to give into the weightlessness, the clock struck midnight and the kitchen was officially closed. 

She did her best to walk to her locker, and sat on a chair with her head in her hands wondering how she was getting out the door, let alone go home. Her phone buzzed in her lap and knew that it was Carmen. His restaurant was opening tomorrow and she didn’t want to hear about it right now. 

 The rest of the chefs filed out, each giving her a glance that told her that she had finally been properly assimilated, just five years too late. 

Carmen was giving her a taste of freedom in Chicago and that fleeting freedom was too seductive to ignore. The job offer echoed in y/n head, she wasn’t a good fit with them, she didn’t want a “work family”, but the temptation was poisoning her. 

She opened the text, it was a simple picture of Carmen in his chef whites, he was practicing the “look” the day before the restaurant opened. He had even slicked his hair back with pomade like he used to in New York, and for the first time in months she laughed.

The sips of warm gatorade had sobered her up enough to walk out, just barely missing the head chef on her way out the door. She performed a blasphemous act in the back of the uber, she opened the email that Carmen had sent a month ago and checked the tickets date and time. Tomorrow morning, and like the universe was giving back after being shitty today, the French Laundry was closed for the next few days.

Y/n got home, ate two day old Thai food, sat on her couch astounded by her sheer audacity as she checked in for her flight. She was sure that Carmen would have gotten the confirmation email by now but he did her the service of not mentioning it.

Y/n packed a carry-on early in the morning and got to the airport, each checkpoint moving much faster than usual. The TSA didn’t make her take off her shoes, her gate was super close, and they had upgraded her to first class because a couple wanted to sit together. All the stars were pointing to Chicago…to Carmen and she tried not to think about how she was running away from her problems just like he did. 

As she reached her hotel room, she hesitated to text Carmen. Nothing felt right to say, so she gave him the best thing right now, some space. She busied herself with getting ready and watching the shopping network.

As y/n approached the restaurant, she was a bit taken aback that the line was still so long. She stood next to an elderly couple who were talking about mortgage rates going down which meant that another housing bubble was bound to burst and the economy would be in shambles. Y/n tried not to think about how she couldn’t afford to lose her job right now because she had nowhere else to go.

No special treatment tonight, Carmen wouldn’t know when she got here so he could focus on his own work. She entered the restaurant and was relieved that the host and the waitstaff were new. She was led to her table and hesitated to pick up the menu. This was a long time coming and opening it felt so empty. It was like when she submitted her last assignment for highschool, alone on a Thursday night wondering why something so big wasn’t registering. 

As she digested the menu, she let her fingers trace over the faux leather and the brown stitching. She wanted to know why he chose brown stitching, or why he stuck with Seven Fishes despite the fact that he must have made it a million times in the French Laundry? Why did he choose certain wines, or why was there a donut on the menu? 

It's not like she hated the menu but a horrible thought dawned on her that all she wanted right now was for Carmen to sit across from her and talk about everything that she had missed. Every detail of this restaurant that reflected a better him, and how she had so much more to learn.

Her phone burned on her lap but she didn’t text him. Instead, she watched the people murmur about work and the food and y/n couldn’t help but hate herself for her self imposed loneliness. 

Y/n did herself a disservice by coming towards the end of the shift so the crowd was thinning and her cover was close to being blown. Her dish arrived and she didn’t need to walk into the kitchen to know that Carmen made this, after years of taste testing his food, his flavor was ingrained in her DNA. Y/n finished her bucatini and felt compelled to order another despite being stuffed, just to swirl the flavor around her tongue for a bit longer. She ordered the aforementioned donut, paid and left. 

She stood in the crisp Chicago air, a few steps from the restaurant, grappling with the audacity that led Carmen to abruptly leave the French Laundry. Immaturely, she couldn't help but wonder why he got to leave and she couldn’t. She knew why, but she let herself fester in the pain, it kept her alive. 

She was used to being alone but for the first time in her life she yearned for someone to be there for her. She had isolated herself to such an extent that she knew that right now no one knew where she was or what she was doing, even Carmen couldn’t be sure that she actually went on the flight.

She could hear the last of the customers file out and the bussers clearing tables. She felt her phone vibrate and took a few breaths before she picked it up.

How was the bucatini?

Y/n lips waivered and a pit dug itself in her chest as she tried to compose herself, but she felt her eyes watering. This wasn’t fair, he wasn’t playing fair. 

She hid her face in her hands, and tried to regain some of her dignity.

 She stood there for what felt like a few seconds and felt someone stand next to her followed by the familiar sound of a lighter. 

Y/n bit her lips shut and stared ahead, knowing that she was stronger than this.

“I didn’t take you for the donut type.” Carmen said in between puffs, he had changed into more casual clothes.

Y/n inhaled deeply through her nose and put her arms down, the night has hidden any trace of her vulnerability. “I wanted to try something different.” Y/n tried to put more power behind her voice but it came out too soft for her liking.

Carmen studied her profile and y/n knew better than to turn away, so she faced him. Her moist eyes turned his eyes into a kaleidoscope of silvers, blues and gold. 

“How did you know I was in the restaurant?” Y/n was relieved that she was able to get it all out before her voice cracked.

A silence passed through them and y/n wished they were doing this somewhere more private. 

He gave her a look, I know you.

The air hung heavy with tension as Y/n responded to Carmen's humored dismissive look. "You don't know shit,", a sardonic smile playing on her lips. She nonchalantly extended her hands toward Carmen's cigarette, a move that seemed almost too casual for the charged atmosphere. She was reaching out for the small remnants of warmth that she knew she would lose in a few hours, because right now and right here, he was there for her.

Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a subtle yet palpable connection that lingered in the air. It was a moment that could have easily been avoided, but neither of them seemed willing to retreat. 

As the smoke curled around Y/n, she maintained a facade of cool composure, seemingly unfazed by the intimacy of the shared smoke. It was as if the brief touch and the exchange of breath and saliva meant nothing more to her than the inhale and exhale of the smoke itself. The proding sense of sadness thumping in the back of her head telling her that this couldn’t last, they couldn’t last. 

“I liked the food.” Y/n returned the cigarette. “It's different…better.”

Carmen looked at her like he had a million questions that he wanted to ask and y/n wondered if she was giving him the same look. 

She leaned back, “Don’t you have an alley or something? Smoking out front is so highschool.”

“Syd threw up in the alley.” 

Y/n raised an eyebrow and wondered if this is how far they would go, she would have savored him for a moment longer if she knew it was going to end so soon.

Carmen stood straight and tilted his head so she would follow him. 

“They cleaned up fast.” Y/n marveled at the vacant restaurant, the lights were dimmed and Carmen led her to the office. 

“I think they wanted to get out of here before the last train left.” Carmen held the door open for her and the familiar heat of his hand hovering over the small of her back was a welcomed surprise.

Despite the practicality of the situation, the impending departure and the need for a clean, cold goodbye, there was a lingering question of whether she could maintain that distance. Carmen's proximity, the heat of his touch, and the shared space was going to make it challenging to stick with a clinical farewell.

The door clicked shut and y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Do your worst. I can take it, y/n.” Carmen sighed, y/n’s stomach fluttered and she dug her nails into her palms to compose herself. 

“Service was good, the waiter filled up my cup when it was halfway. The silverware was clean and rolled tight. Points off because my fork was from a different manufacturer from the rest of the dinnerware.” Y/n saw Carmen clench up for a second before nodding in concentration. It felt as if each syllable was being burned into his memory and the intensity of his gaze was making her sweat.

She gave herself the satisfaction of sitting because her feet were killing her and Carmen sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. 

“The saltiness of the guanciale harmonizes with the richness of the eggs and the sharpness of the Pecorino Romano. The dish was velvety but delicate. The guanciale provides a necessary contrast in texture. Simple but precise. I think…I know that it was the best thing I’ve had in a while, chef.” 

Yn was met with a humming silence. 

“We can do this tomorrow, I know you had a long day.” Y/n offered.

“No…” He shook his head and his eyes were distant before landing on her’s, the severity behind them had made her sit back, “I want to hear what you have to say.”

She extended her legs towards Carmen, “You see these, chef?” Carmen hesitated to look forward like he was in the middle century and ankles were scandalous before gazing at her soft legs.

“They hurt like a motherfucker.” She flexed the back of her heel to show the blisters that had formed. “I gotta take care of this back in the hotel.” 

Carmen slowly shifted his gaze from her legs to her face before wordlessly getting up and walking out. Y/n rubbed her temple and allowed herself to be selfish once more by downing Carmen’s abandoned sugar free Redbull left on the desk.

As she collected her stuff to get back to the hotel, Carmen returned with ice and first aid. 

He placed everything on the floor so slowly that y/n could only assume that he was stalling. 

Carmen looked up at her with his bright, almost silver, eyes and his eyes asked, Can I help you? Can I be there for you like you were here for me today?

It was like time had stopped as y/n struggled to bring oxygen to her lungs. She mindlessly nodded yes and the first touch made her heart thump against her chest. His hands were scorching against her skin and every lingering touch imprinted its memory on to her. As he iced the swelling and followed it by placing his warm hand to ease the shock in temperature, it became hard for y/n to focus.

Carmen did her the courtesy of abandoning the ice pack. She took a hollow and staggered breath, “Ask me anything.” 

Carmen looked up from her, she hadn’t noticed that he had removed her heels, and asked her about every minor detail about her experience. He wasn’t aware that he was softly rubbing his thumb across her ankle, and y/n couldn't seem to move on from it. 

When y/n finished her summary, Carmen’s fingers seized dancing across her skin and she regretted not talking for longer. 

He didn’t let his hand leave her even as he asked, “How is work?”

Y/n grunted out in dismay and she leaned back and would have fallen backwards if Carmen hadn’t grabbed the seat between her legs. They both stared at his hand before Carmen quickly pulled back, y/n mumbled a quick thanks. 

“It’s great.” Y/n sarcastically pushed. 

Carmen quirked up his eyebrows in a sarcastic manner and y/n ignored him. 

“It was Henry’s birthday.” Carmen hummed in understanding, birthdays were always a mess.

“You wouldn’t guess who was doing the expo yesterday.” 

“I have an idea.” Y/n couldn’t deny that his smirk sent her spinning. He understood the fiber of that world so well even though he was hundreds of miles away, and she was barely hanging on to a tread. 

Carmen continued, “Feel bad for the poor bastard who was his punching bag for the night.”

Y/n swallowed the burning lump in the back of her throat and kept her gaze relaxed and gave him a soft, “Yeah.”

The silence was making y/n uncomfortable so she mustered her remaining energy to give him a relaxed smile. 

Carmen’s face didn’t give anything away, “How bad was he?”

“I'm here, aren’t I?” Y/n chuckled humorlessly. 

“I know you're strong but I was being serious, y'know…about the job.” Carmen asserted.

Y/n softened her eyes, he was making this so much harder for her. “Noted, chef. Why Chicago?” Y/n diverted.

“Inherited the restaurant from my brother and I had to deal with it. He killed himself.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up-”

“It’s fine, I was going to have to tell you anyway.” Y/n didn’t have to know anything, she was no one and she didn’t deserve his trust. “It was a sandwich place before we renovated it.”

Y/n laughed in disbelief, “You made sandwiches? They sell truffles in Chicago?”

Carmen smirked as he went back to mindlessly rubbing her ankle again. “Regular sandwiches.”

Y/n widened her eyes and couldn’t hold her laughter in, “Pictures or it didn’t happen.” 

Carmen fished out his phone and showed her pictures of a messier restaurant.

“I get why you had to gut the place.”

“It's not that bad.” He asked humorously. 

“What you have right now is more your style, I like this version better.” Y/n heart skipped a beat when his hand shifted a bit higher up her leg. 

“I love the look though,” Y/n squinted at a picture of Carmen standing behind a counter at what looked like a bachelor party. 

“What look?”

“You know, the rugged, tired look.” Carmen rolled his eyes. “No seriously, I didn’t even know you had so much ink.” Y/n zoomed in on a tattoo of some numbers on his biceps. 

“I'll show you all of them later.” Y/n let out a laugh as she handed back the phone. She wondered if she was hiding her nerves well. 

"You spend all your time at work, when do you find the time to sit in a tattoo shop?"

"Prioritizing important shit, I guess."

"If you can prioritize getting tattoos and running a restaurant, when do you have time for your girlfriend?" Subtle, passive, non-probing was what y/n was going for. She forced herself to watch his reaction.

Carmen gave a puzzled look, his scrunched up eyebrows and distant look was accompanied with a quiet, "Don't have one."

Y/n gave a casual "Hmm…you sure? Seems like you got time to kill, always so relaxed." Carmen curled his lips up and bit his lips to stifle his smile. His lips turned pale pink before returning to rose red and y/n wanted to reach down and run her pointer finger along his lips to feel his heat.

"When I have the time. The restaurant is new and I need-"

"I thought you said you knew how to prioritize?" Y/n leaned back and rested her cheek on her fist. 

"Maybe if she's really special."

"And not distracting." Y/n added.

"Then I can prioritize." Carmen adjusted his posture before asking y/n.

"What about you?"

"I am a realistic romantic, so love is real but just not for me. I don't have it in me to text everyday or go to family dinners. But who knows, Mr. Right might make me less shitty and more sunshine and rainbows. "

"Your personality is fine right now." Carmen offered. 

Y/n jokingly scoffed before adding, "Then maybe I just need someone to distract from my own problems."

They sat in comfortable silence, but y/n’s eyes widened as she checked the clock, “It’s late.”

“It’s only one.” Y/n gave him a look of disapproval before nudging her foot against his stomach, where it had been resting for the past hour. 

“Go home, Carmen.” Carmen wordlessly picked up her heels and slipped them back on to her feet. He stood up and offered his hand. 

They walked out the restaurant and y/n pulled out her phone to call a taxi.

“I can drive you.”

Y/n looked over her shoulder at Carmen checking the locks. 

“If you drive me, you won't be getting any sleep.” A pause passed through them.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Y/n rushed out. 

Carmen cleared his throat, preserved her dignity by not saying anything else and led her to the car. 

“You know these things will kill you.” Y/n lifted a Red Bull from the cup holder and cracked it open and took a few healthy sips. 

Carmen wordlessly slipped the can out of her hands at a red light, “I need it more than you.” He looked down at the lipstick mark and took a few savored sips. At the next light, y/n could see the remnants of red lipstick on his bottom lip. 

They reached y/n’s hotel too fast for each other's liking. Y/n swiveled her head, Carmen was already looking at her. She was fighting heavy lids a few minutes ago but now she was sprung with energy. 

Y/n looked up in feinted innocence before casually offering, “You want to come up for some tea?” The kettle in her room didn’t work, she checked this morning.

Carmen blinked a few times, wondering if he heard her right, before slowly nodding his head like he wasn’t sure it was a joke. 

She unlocked her room door for the both of them and Carmen shut it behind him. With a cautious gesture, y/n extended her hand, placing it close to Carmen's body. The darkness clung to Carmen's form as y/n's fingers grazed his side, a brief but intimate contact that went unnoticed in the dimly lit corridor, to check if the door was locked.

Carmen walked over to the office chair in the corner. Y/n room was so cramped that she was still within arms distance of him as she sat on the foot of her bed. 

“The Bear?” Y/n’s inquisitive gaze and playful smile made Carmen’s heart stutter as he nearly forgot what The Bear was, or what his name was. 

He cleared his throat, “Berzatto…Bear. It was a nick-name my brother gave me.” 

Y/n leaned in a bit closer as she scoffed, “Even the name is good. I kinda hate you a bit more.” She bit her bottom lip to stifle the laugh but was pleasantly surprised that he was bouncing from her eyes to her lips.

He parted his lips to formulate a coherent sentence but y/n extended her heels to the legs of Carmen’s chair and pulled him closer. The look of his thoughts scrambling right in front of her was making it difficult for her to be restrained and poised. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

His grip on the arms of the chair was telling her that she was headed in the right direction. She kept her hold on Carmen’s chair, as she softly assured, “I have to go back soon, so I’m trying to soak it all in right now.”

“You're leaving?” Carmen mumbled, sharing his attention between her eyes, lips, and her leg. He let his legs relax, which made them meet with y/n’s legs. 

“I hate Chicago.” Y/n leaned back. “And I don’t really belong here. My whole life is in New York, and I don’t want to change everything just for-.” 

“Come work for me-” 

A swift pang of anger rippled through her, he didn’t need her. “You’ve got your plate full, you don't need a distraction.”

“But you do.” Carmen placed a warm hand on her thigh and the heat made her breath heavy, y/n knew where this was going but she wanted it to last as long as it could because she knew that once the sun rose, they were done. 

“It’s going to be messy.” 

“It won't be.”

The room held its breath as they teetered on the edge of something undefined. The impending dawn loomed, casting a shadow on the delicate illusion they had woven. “I don’t want something serious.” Y/n argued. 

“And I dont have the time for something serious.” As Carmen leaned forward, pushing his hands high up her thigh. 

As y/n searched for any other reason no to do this, Carmen’s cerulean eye’s hazed with lust seemed to have the opposite effect. Any reservations, logic, or inhibitions that could have prompted her to stop were forcefully pushed away amidst the intoxicating allure of Carmen.

Y/n didn’t know who leaned in first but it didn’t take much time for both of them to topple in the bed. In between huffs and shirts flying off each other Carmen whispered into her lips, “Just pretend it’s real tonight.”

Y/n reeled her head back a second, but Carmen's intense gaze and his trailing hand convinced her otherwise. She leaned back in, hooking her legs around his waist pulling him closer.

Carmen stalled his kisses down the column of her throat, “I thought you wouldn’t come.” 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Y/n twisted her hips and in a flash she was straddling him.

She sensed the subtle shiver that ran through him, his unsteady hands finding a resting place on her hips, torn between the desire to reciprocate from below and allowing her to continue her torture. Taking charge, she decided for both of them, lowering herself down to grind against his jeans.

Carmen’s mind went blank and the last thing he saw before he lost all sense of restraint and reason, was y/n’s eyes sparkling. 

--

You can read more of my stuff here

End Notes:

I love reading your comments, and that's what motivated me to finish, so share your thoughts bc I want to hear them.

I currently have like 10 half baked drafts and they all suck so this was the sole survivor. This one is kinda self indulgent because I hate my job so much but sometimes no matter how much something makes you miserable, there isn’t a way out, so you have to find something to distract yourself from the dull pain. 

I tried to keep it as realistically healthy as a relationship with Carmen can be because that man just needs some space to grow. Honestly, I'm not sure if they'll ever meet again, or maybe they might meet up more now. Im really not sure.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Hi, I love love love the way you write.

Do you take requests? x

I do take requests, but it might take forever because my job has long hours, and I've been dealing with a ton of writer's block lately :)

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Vapor

This is Part 2

You can read Part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his not-so-shit-restaurant and gets invited over for family dinner. 

Word Count: 10k

__

The sky was blood orange and the reflection on the store window was mesmerizing. Y/n was supposed to be in the office getting ready for the full day ahead of her but she couldn’t resist slacking off for a bit, it was nice to finally enjoy the restaurant with no one inside. Y/n needed to be here early when a potential vendor came by to give some quotes. Carmen’s initial reaction was to stand his ground and act like some faux bodyguard because he couldn't fathom why some “sick fuck” would want to be alone with a woman in a restaurant at the ass crack of dawn without them having bad intentions—said it wasn't safe at all. Y/n had to inform him that the, “sick fuck” was a woman. And as soon as Carmen heard that, and realized they were going to be talking numbers for a while, he ran off to the farmer's market, wanting no part in that snooze fest. 

Y/n grabbed her laptop and started reviewing the binders she organized. Just as y/n was about to check her phone for any messages, she heard a knock at the door. A pretty blond woman looks at y/n with a bit of confusion. This woman wasn’t expecting to see y/n and y/n wasn't expecting to see this woman. Y/n walked to the door and opened a crack. 

“Who are you?” Y/n questioned. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” The women laughed but y/n wasn’t finding this funny.

“Natalie…” Y/n shook her head like a bouncer sending a teeager away without his fake ID.

“Natalie Berzatto.” She clarified and y/n recalled the name as a co-signer for The Beef, now The Bear. Y/n opened the door a bit more to let her in. 

Y/n gave her name but she didn’t know what else to say but Natalie was already filling the space. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you, Carmen won't stop talking about you. You really saved our asses. Especially with the file organizing stuff, I found the old payroll stuff in like a minute, you're a real savant with stuff like that. Carmy is a real sticker for cooking but he is a real shit-”. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Natalie was nervous.

Y/n knew that Natalie was a part of Carmen’s family but she didn’t know how they were connected. One plausible scenario was that she was Micheal’s widowed girlfriend or wife, which would explain why anyone would co-sign the disaster that Micheal had created and promptly left. Y/n wondered why Carmen would be getting so chummy with his widowed sister-in-law, but then again men have done worse. 

Y/n bit the bullet, “How do you know Carmen?”

“I'm his sister… Sugar?” Y/n was starting to feel like a real idiot for not being able to piece these easy deductions together, she was losing her edge because it was to fucking early in the morning.

“Yes, Richie told me that “Sugar” was going to stop by this week. What can I do for you?” Y/n didn’t mention that she thought Sugar was going to be a stripper because of the name. 

“Actually I came to pick some old tax stuff… Micheal’s tax returns.” Y/n guided her to the office. Even if she didn’t look back she knew that Natalie was spying on her binders and laptop laid out on the counter, trying to find out a bit about y/n. 

“So, Carmy tells me that you two used to work together back in New York.”

“Yeah it was only for a few years.”

“Were you close?” Natalie probed. 

“We were…strangers at best.” Y/n chose to leave out the messy parts of her and Carmen’s origins. 

Natalie shook her head in disbelief. "That can't be true, he actually came to my place one day, pretty late. You know why?" Y/n, not knowing the answer, simply shrugged her shoulders. 

"He said he needed to make an important phone call, someone from his old job. He said that he wanted to ask for a bit of help." Natalie continued, her voice tinged with wishfulness "I thought maybe he was finally going to therapy or something." Y/n felt a strange sensation, like she was staring directly into the sun, hope gave Natalie a beautiful glow. 

Natalie's smile softened as she added, "And you know what? He made that phone call right on our porch." Her words carried a touch of warmth. "Well, at least he's reaching out for help. It's a good thing, right?"

“I recommended therapy to him too but I think we would need to put a gun to his head for him to actually go." Natalie let out a humored exhale. 

There was a lull of silence after she handed the tax returns. Y/n could sense that Natalie wanted to talk some more so y/n directed her to the bar stools out front. She checked her phone and saw that her vendor had a family emergency and needed to reschedule. After shooting a quick ok, she directed herself to face Natalie. 

"You can ask me anything. I've got plenty of time to kill." Y/n offered, feeling generous considering the recent kiss shared with Natalie's brother just a week ago.

“I was here a few times but I never had a chance to meet you?”

“I was probably apartment hunting.” Natalie looked like she was debating asking her next question.   

“What did you think of Carmen when you guys were back in New York?”

“He was like every other chef.”

“Nothing else? No pulling force?”

“No pulling force.”

“You moved state lines for him and you're saying there was no pulling force?”

“He asked me for help and I gave him some.” 

“You chose to stay. There had to be a pull.”

“The restaurant spoke to my soul, I had to stay.” Y/n was bluffing. 

“Bullshit, there was a pull.” Natalie said with a self fulfilled smirk like she had won a point in their imaginary game.

Natalie continued, “You know, he won a Michelin star. A man who cooks…is not too bad.”

“I don’t eat gourmet food. It’s pretentious.” Y/n didn’t want to make too much out of the kiss and make Carmen panic.

“I'm sure he can make something you will like.” 

“I have yet to eat something of his that would warrant him having a Michelin star.”

“You don’t like his cooking?”

“I don’t like anyone’s cooking.” Natalie couldn’t come up with something else. Point to y/n. A smile spread across y/n’s face and Natalie was relieved to realize that y/n wasn’t being serious. 

“What do you like doing?” Natalie probed. 

“I spend most of my time working here but I also read.” 

“Why did you leave New York?” Natalie blurted out.

“I don’t like working with other people, my boss was all over me. I thought Chicago would be a nice change of pace.” 

Y/n saw Natalie unlock her phone to respond to a text from someone named Pete, who had a pink heart near his name. Y/n knew that memorizing people’s passwords was an invasion of their privacy but it was fun to be a bit nosy. 

Y/n was also tired of getting the third-degree, she was hoping for a few fun questions asking if she ever murdered anyone or if she ever was contacted to be a part of a bank heist. She would be lying if she wasn’t a bit afraid that whatever she said would be relayed to Carmen so she didn’t want to say anything too damning. 

“You read romance?” Y/n saw the book peeking out of Natalie’s bag, it was one that she had read before. 

“Yeah, they’re my guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too. I liked that one.” Y/n pointed at the book peaking out.

“I hate it, it's filled with miscommunication. I’m only finishing it to justify the 12 dollars I spent.” Natalie said with a fake pout. 

“I love miscommunication because I suck at talking to people too. Much better than the one I just finished.”

“What killed your book?”

“Third-act break up.” Natalie nodded her head, it seems like they agreed. 

Y/n couldn't help but feel relieved; while the nature of Y/n's relationship with Carmen remained uncertain, it was evident that Natalie would become a more integral part of the restaurant. Carmen's recent discovery of three hundred thousand dollars hidden in tomato cans had sparked ambitious plans for renovating the place. Even if she ended up being nothing serious with Carmen, she needed to secure a stable support who wouldn’t completely hate her if shit hit the fan. 

They continued to talk about a few books that they had read, a few so trashy that they had to hide their faces in embarrassment from each other when reading the summary out loud. 

The door chimed and both women looked over to Carmen who was holding a few bags of produce and baked goods. Y/n went over and plucked the receipts for the top of one of the bags, she didn’t bother helping Carmen because he wouldn’t have let her help anyways. Carmen was gracious enough to put all the receipts together so she wasn’t digging to find them, she kept a record of them to write them off as a business deduction. 

“Nat, you’re here early?” Carmen spared a glance before opening a box of croissants to share and then disappearing to the kitchen to put everything away. 

“Yeah I had to pick something up, y/n was so kind to help me so early in the morning. Isn’t she just the best?” 

“Yeah…How did it go with the vendor?” Carmen mindlessly mumbled while busying himself with a notebook of recipe ideas. 

“Rescheduled.” Y/n didn’t look up, engrossed in cataloging some expensive mushrooms for record keeping. $268.43 for some mushrooms was honestly so ridiculous y/n needed to squint to see if she was seeing this right. 

“I need to return the favor.” Natalie started.

“It was just a few folders, you really don’t-”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner on friday?” Y/n felt like she was performing front and center.

“I couldn’t-.” 

“Please, Pete never wants to talk to me about…” Natalie was raising her eyebrows in the most unsubtle way possible so she didn’t expose y/n's softer side and her penchant for reading romance novels. Y/n couldn’t help but hide her face in embarrassment, “Yeah…fine. Just tell me what time.”

Observing the exchange, Carmen couldn't help but wonder if this was how dogs felt when humans engaged in their own incomprehensible conversations.

Y/n was starting to feel like she was edging closer and closer to Carmen’s limit. Kissing in the back alley of a restaurant and on the car ride to and from work was very different from being invited to his sister’s house for dinner. It carried a weight of intimacy, commitment, and solidity that made Y/n slightly uneasy, wondering if this was too much for Carmen. She waited for the other shoe to drop, Carmen would subtly show his discontent by telling Natalie that she shouldn’t force y/n to go to that dinner, which was just an excuse to create some distance. Y/n was surprised when Carmen asked what type of desert he should bring instead. 

Y/n kept her cool and excused herself to go to the office so she could get back to work. 

Carmen and Natalie moved to the kitchen where Carmen would experiment for a bit. Natalie sat on a stool next to Carmen who started washing produce. 

“She is very smart.” Natalie whispered. She took a glance at the closed office door.

“Yeah. Great with the books.” Carmen peeled and diced some garlic. 

“Nice too.”

“She is very nice.” Carmen started cutting some nepitella. The additional “very” caused some alarm bells to ring in Natalie’s head. She hid her smirk. 

“Everything about her is nice,” Natalie made sure to pay close attention to Carmen’s face, “Nice personality, nice face-” Carmen took a worried glance at the office door and then looked up at Natalie with wide eyes.

“Why, why, what are you-?” He was flustered. 

“I’m just sharing my observations. You don’t think she has a nice face-?”

“This is a business, we try to keep professional.” Carmen hid his fumble with fake professionality, unfortunately Natalie saw right through it. 

“Try?” Natalie teased. Carmen looked away to pretend to look for some dried porcini. He felt like an idiot. He understood why people used to see him as an easy target when he was younger, he basically showed everyone his buttons, and asked them to get pushed. Carmen continued to chop in silence. 

“I'm sorry, I just got a bit excited. I won't push.” Natalie gave her brother the benefit of the doubt, she always thought he would never get into a serious relationship but he liked y/n and y/n seemed like the serious girlfriend type. Natalie couldn’t help but nudge Carmen in the right direction. 

Carmen chopped in silence for a few minutes, debating if he should tell Natalie about the kiss. In his mind, he didn’t know if it was too soon for him to introduce his girlfriend to his family. Calling y/n his girlfriend felt unreal, past him wouldn’t believe it even if he saw it.  

He handed his notebook to Natalie so she could read measurements to him, he wanted her here for just a bit longer till he gained the courage to tell her about y/n. 

Tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms was the first test item of the morning, and he had to soak the dried porcini for 30 minutes, he was bummed that the market didn't have the fresh kind but he knew he would get the real shit when y/n got a hold of that vendor. He looked up at Natalie and tilted his head to indicate that they should leave. Carmen avoided the alley because he knew that y/n would look there first and he didn’t want her to overhear anything. They walked over to a nearby supermarket and started roaming the aisles. It was nearly empty because it was six in the morning. 

“I did something…and I need you to not…just listen and don’t make it a big deal.”

“I got it, Carmy.” 

��A while ago, I…” Carmen looked at all the different types of instant noodles they had on display. “So, we were in deep shit with these pre-orders and I was a mess and y/n and I were talking after…” Carmen moved over to the boxed pasta, he didn't intend to buy anything but he did read the nutritional facts.

“I umm, asked her to…” Jesus, Carmen wondered, why he didn’t make more friends so he didn’t have to talk to his older sister about something like this. Richie didn’t seem capable of giving any advice that wasn’t, “Just Do It”.

 “We ki…” Natalie kept her face hard but the second that Carmen turned around to look at a box of elbow pasta, she couldn't help herself but let out a small, barely audible squeal of delight. Her eyes widened, and a grin threatened to break through her determined facade. Natalie quickly covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain her elation, making sure not to let Carmen catch a glimpse. She stifled her excitement with every fiber of her being, preserving the illusion of calmness for when Carmen turned back around, none the wiser.

“It’s been a while, and we k…” Carmen didn’t know how he was supposed to maturely ask for advice when he couldn’t even say a kiss in front of his sister while cringing. Carmen couldn’t do this, it was too open, too vulnerable. 

Nat cut him some slack and started asking questions instead, “Was it a one time thing?” Carmen subtly shook his head no. Her lips parted as she squeezed a jar of Pego to contain herself. 

“Do you regret it?” Carmen didn’t respond but that didn’t mean no, that ment that she was getting closer to the root of the problem.

“Do you think she’s going to regret it?” Carmen’s shoulder’s raised slightly, bingo. 

“Why don’t I gauge how she is feeling at dinner.” Nat knew he was about to run away from her for exposing too much and she had to give him an incentive to not follow his instincts. 

She continued, “We talked earlier, she said she hates your cooking.” Carmen’s head snapped up, Nat knew that y/n was just joking but it was still a bit funny to mess with Carmen. 

The look of shock transported her back to when she was eight sitting next to Carmy and watching Micheal convince him to finish a glass of milk or else he would lose all of his teeth to a calcium deficiency. This wasn’t the time to reminisce but it made her heart warm knowing that even after going through so much, there was still a part of young Carmy that persevered. She was feeling the burning in the back of her eyes, her hormones were making her sentimental. 

“Yeah she said that your food fucking blows.” Carmen caught on and let out a small laugh.

They both roamed in the aisle moving on to juices. Sugar free, diet, pineapple, orange. Carmen’s eyebrows raised when he saw the price of orange juice before putting it down and deciding to just make his own. 

Carmen started, “She isn’t the type of person who changes her mind easily,” but if she can make that shift to see him in a good light, maybe she'll stick around and eventually see the real Carmen—a pathetic, insecure loser. All he did was make a promise to her but he knew it meant nothing without actions, and he was unsure if he could control his anger or keep his obsessiveness in check when something especially difficult happened. If another shit storm made its rounds in the kitchen, would he really be able to be the bigger person? Carmen doubted it. 

Carmen just ripped off the bandaid, “I don’t know how to…I want her to not hate me. I know I'm going to..” Carmen waited till a child next to them moved to the other end of teh aisle towards his dad, “..fuck it up, but I dont want that to happen.” 

“What makes you think she is going to hate you?”

“When we were talking…she told me that I should have done better. And that I…needed to be “stable”, but I don’t know how to be that for myself, let alone someone else.”

“She isn’t asking you to do it for her, she wants you to do it for yourself.” Natalie offered. 

“Its like having to solve a word search to answer a stupid fucking puzzle. I don’t…” Carmen sighed in defeat. Nat knew that he was strong and it was impossible for her to fix this for him but that still made her palms itch seeing him struggle like this. She racked her brain, desperately seeking any glimmer of a solution that could offer him even a shred of relief. 

They both walked out the market towards the restaurant. “It's really hard…and it's not that I don’t want to, it just feels impossible.” Carmen muttered, he was close to giving up. 

A burning sensation welled up in the back of Natalie's throat, and she instinctively placed her hand on Carmen's shoulder as a gesture of support and to her surprise Carmen looked at her, saw her glassy eyes and hugged her. The shock knocked a few tears from her eyes.. 

Carmy was not a selfish person but Nat noticed that he was becoming a bit more aware that he takes up much more space then he originally thought he did. He now knew that his presence was big enough to be able to tear people down but was also big enough to offer meaningful support. He had come to understand his own significance, and this realization struck Natalie like a tidal wave, causing her to burst into uncontrollable sobs. 

“Does crying mean I'm fucked, Sugar?” Carmen asked, his voice tinged with humor and uncertainty, as he gently rubbed Natalie's back for comfort. Nat shook her head no.

“You'll be okay. You always are.” Nat wiped her face before continuing to walk back to the restaurant. 

Carmen snuck a few glances to see what was making his sister a sobbing mess, she wasn’t the type to break down like that, “Are you good?” Natalie nodded her head.

“Everything good at home?” It felt strange to say the word home, even after visiting multiple countries and living in many different apartments, Carmen couldn’t really call any place home. Home was supposed to be a sanctuary of warmth, Carmen's closest experience to that feeling was back in his family house—a place where the warmth was scalding and suffocating. Where it was a constant waiting game, anticipating the intense heat to escalate and cause everything, and everyone, to boil over. 

Carmen was acutely aware that he would never have a home quite like Sugar's. He couldn't help but wonder if he had what it took to be like Pete for someone else—always helpful, kind, and perhaps a little too accommodating. He questioned whether he had the capacity to fulfill that role and maintain his own sense of self. Granted, what about his “self” was worth preserving?

Natalie nodded her head but Carmen wasn’t convinced. “It's just a lot, you know. Seeing the place getting renovated. I used to hate that place, but..” She sighed, “...I picked up Micheal’s tax returns, I didn’t even need them for anything…I just wanted to see them to know what he was going through towards the…'' end. She didn’t need to finish for Carmen to know what she was talking about. They were in front of the restaurant and Carmen gave her a side hug and against his better judgment he tried his hand in verbal reassurance so he could be there for her, fully. 

“I think he tried his best to make everything look fine, and it’s nice to know that he was at least able to pretend till the...end.” Sugar looked up at him and didn’t comment on his successful attempt to be her support, not wanting to scare him. 

They wordlessly walked in the restaurant and Carmen finished up his dish. He made enough for one plate because he was expecting to have to remake it a few times. He grabbed a small plate and served a separate plate for y/n before knocking on her door. She looked up at him, not hearing him and gave him a “hmm” which echoed in his chest. She sat with them in the kitchen, taking her laptop with her. They all took the first bite together. Carmen watched both women’s reactions to gauge their uncensored reactions. Natalie’s eyebrows raised and she gave him a nod of approval. 

Y/n took a bite and looked up from her plate so see Carmen staring at her. “Why are you staring?”

“Do you not like it?” 

“It’s good.” Y/n put her fork down and propped up her head on her hand. 

“But, you didn’t-”

“I’m not really a foodie, so food is never like…” Y/n made an explosion sound and flicked her hands open, “Good, is the best you going to get out of me.” Natalie wondered how a chef and an anti-gourmet foodie were going to work. 

“Is all food just ”good”?” Y/n looked up and tried to think of food that was better than good.

“I like mom's cooking.” 

“What is her food like?”

“Intense…subtly in food doesn’t mean anything to me because I don’t taste the difference.” Carmen was waiting for more for y/n.

“I ate a lot of spicy, sour and bitter food growing up. My mom didn’t think that kids should eat different things than everyone else, so I guess pasta and mushrooms will always be just “good”.” Y/n felt like she was just shitting all over his profession but he asked for her opinion so he couldn’t get offended now. 

Carmen nodded his head before walking away. Y/n pierced her lips and looked over to Natalie wondering if she hurt Carmen’s feelings. Natalie looked just as bewildered. Just as y/n was about to find Carmen, he came out with a few more ingredients.

“What are you making?” 

“Something you will like.” 

“I liked what you made-” 

“Good is not enough.” 

“Come on, Carmen, it's something that everyone will like, it’s going to kill opening day.”

“But you have to like it.” Y/n sighed before indicating that he should continue. 

“You won’t be able to serve the food I like to eat, it would be considered a biological weapon.” Y/n was warning him but Carmen thought she was teasing him. He would learn to listen to her warning in the future. He put the porcini mushrooms to the side before getting started on some penne all’arrabbiata. 

Y/n laughed at him knowing that he wouldn’t have the courage to spice up a dish to her standard before grabbing her laptop so she could get some work done and also talk to Natalie about contractors. 

While Carmen chopped and stirred, y/n subtly glanced up at his flexing back and strong arms. She thought she was hiding it well but when she went to check if Natalie noticed she saw that Natalie was already watching her. Natalie snickered as y/n hid her face behind her laptop to hide her embarrassment. Carmen turned around to see what was so funny but was just met with the view of both of them with their faces hiding behind their hands. 

Y/n felt someone pass behind her and knew it was Sydney without having to look up. “Hey guys, what are we making?” She took a bite out of the pasta, which was slightly cooled but she still nodded her head. 

“It’s fire, chef. It would be great if it was hot, I want to remake it to see what it was supposed to taste like.”

Y/n couldn’t say that she completely forgave Sydney but y/n did respect that she went to Richie to give some type of apology after a while. Y/n could accept that the two of them wouldn’t be best friends, they just needed to be able to work together. 

Y/n went to Carmen’s locker before pulling out a few Tums for everyone, it looks like today was going to be pasta day because of her and she didn’t want to send everyone home with a stomach ache.

Carmen continued with his pasta, and served it in front of y/n. All the women took a bite,

“It’s got a kick to it.” Natalie said while reaching for a food container filled with water while wiping sweat from her brow. Sydney gave Carmen a, “This is fire, chef.” Y/n couldn't help but cringe inwardly at the comment because she knew she couldn't quite match their shared vernacular and the ease with which they expressed themselves with food. What private passion did y/n and Carmen share?

Carmen stared y/n down as she took a bite.

“It’s good.” Carmen waited for her to elaborate. “It’s too subtle.” 

Carmen smirked, “Yeah, next time I'll just make you a ball of fire for you to enjoy.” Y/n gave him a shit eating grin, it was just too fun not to mess with him, and when she saw him smile back she felt a bit of imaginary nostalgia, this was what she longed for back in New York. 

The restaurant was still closed for renovations and after a while a few other crew members came by to do some demo. Y/n was stuck on hold with the inspector's office when she was approached by Natalie, “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment so I've got to go, I’ll see you on Friday at eight.” 

The rest of the week flew by because they were on a very strict time crunch to open in a few months. Y/n wasn’t very worried but she could feel the nerves from everyone else and she knew it would be in bad taste to tell them to toughen up, so she let them be grown ups and deal with their own anxieties. 

On Friday, y/n left early to get ready for dinner, she opened an old moving box and pulled out a dress that she wore to an old work function. It was very tasteful because it was freezing outside. Y/n grabbed her gifts before running into Carmen’s car. Y/n took one look at Carmen and had to do a double take to make sure that she went into the right person’s car. Carmen’s hair was lighty slicked back, probably with pomade, and he was wearing a deep blue sweater with a white collar. 

“I didn’t know you had clothes other than aprons and Dickies.”

“You look..” Carmen marveled at the way her eyes sparkled with an inner radiance, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He knew he wasn’t able to get the full picture yet because they were in a dark car but he could only imagine what she would do to him when they went to the well lit house. “..great.” Carmen wanted to punch himself for being so unoriginal but he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Thank you, you look good too. Blue is definitely your color..” Carmen’s fingers loosened around the steering wheel, compliments had always made him uneasy; he spent the majority of his life trying to make himself as small as possible and now he was pushed into the spotlight and he wondered if he even liked it?

“Carmen, can you look at me for a second?” And when he swiveled his head towards y/n, she squished his face lighty before giving his puckered lips a soft kiss. Just as she was about to lean back into her seat, Carmen, unable to resist, slipped his hand beneath her hair, grasping the back of her neck and drawing her in for a deeper, more passionate second kiss. 

Yeah, he liked it.

“We are going to be late.” Y/n whispered before giving him one last peck. Carmen, still in a daze, fiddled with the radio so he could get his head straight. The ride to his sister’s house was quiet barring the soft jazz. Y/n was very nervous, they never had that conversation that said that they were official and for all she knew she was just a friend that Carmen kissed from time to time. She resisted the urge to ask right now because she was scared to find out that they were nothing more. She would savor the few minutes before she was inevitably introduced as a friend, or worse a co-worker. 

They pulled into Natalie’s driveway and got out of the car, y/n grabbed the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine and they rang the doorbell. 

"Why are you holding the tray like that?" Y/n asked, noticing how Carmen clung to it like a shield. Before she could receive a response, Natalie opened the door with a warm greeting, inviting them inside. Y/n handed over the gifts, but Carmen still clung onto his belongings. Just then, Peter descended the stairs, seemingly about to approach Carmen for a hug before his gaze landed on Carmen's protective tray. He hesitated and stepped back, realizing it was acting as a barrier. Y/n stifled a laugh, biting her cheek to prevent herself from laughing at Carmen’s immaturity.

Carmen greeted, “Pete.” Y/n could feel the dislike and she felt bad for Pete because he seemed nice.

“Carmen, it’s good to see you, man.”

“This is my girlfriend, y/n.” A sense of numbness overwhelmed her. It was like when people get run over by a semi and say that they don’t feel anything. Y/n extended her hand to shake Pete's, and she followed him into the living room. 

Carmen went into the kitchen to help Natalie and y/n made pleasant conversation with Pete, he seemed a bit soft but she could understand why Natalie might want someone like him. Y/n pretended to be interested when he showed her his Cubs memorabilia, she initially thought the Cubs were a fictional sports team made by the New Girl writers. 

Y/n and Pete walked over to the kitchen and asked if they needed any help. Pete looked like he wanted to actually be helpful but y/n had her fingers crossed hoping she didn’t have to do any cooking. It was weird to see Carmen let someone else take the lead while he watched. Even with Sydney, he still watched over everything like a hawk, not because he didn’t trust her, it's just because he wouldn’t let her fail. 

Y/n watched as everyone spoke and she wondered where she fit in. Natalie and Carmen were obviously close and Pete was doing his best to get close to Carmen, trying to bridge the obvious gap between them. Y/n had to stop herself from telling Carmen to either be nicer or for Pete to drop it.

Other than being Carmen’s new “girlfriend” and sharing small talk, what else was there for her to talk about? Y/n didn’t know them well but she could tell there was a lot of subtext between the three of them that added weight to their interactions that she wasn’t privy to yet. She was a flame trying to suck in any bubble of oxygen so she could ignite, she needed more information before she could actually join them.

 It felt like she was reading Dune for the first time, being dropped in the middle of an already moving plot and she was scrambling to play catch up. Carmen had a lot of triggers and she wondered if Natalie was the same. Even if they acted completely differently, y/n could tell that they were sidestepping something, like they were avoiding talking about a gaping bullet wound, and if siblings were acting like that it means that it's a problem with the parents. Despite the fact that they were in the kitchen, the three of them weren’t talking about the food. Y/n made a mental checklist of a few rules; 1. Don’t bring up parents 2. Don't mention food because it's a trigger 3. Pay attention to Natalie because she was not as good at hiding her feelings as Carmen. 

Dinner was served and they all took a seat, y/n took slow sips of wine and saw that Natalie’s wine was slightly darker than hers. Y/n was sitting across Natalie so she recognized the smell too, apple. She was drinking sparkling apple cider. Y/n hid her smirk by talking another sip, she would be a spy or something because she was killing it in the recon department. 

Dinner was starting to feel stiff, y/n took a deep breath and turned to Natalie, “Your cooking is to die for.” Natalie tucked in her lips but couldn’t help but hide her smile, y/n never told Carmen anything like that, barring the first day she got to Chicago, it was a petty way of getting back at him for blindsiding her by calling her his girlfriend. 

“Thanks, It's a family recipe.” Y/n wanted to stab herself with the fork, she just broke rule one and two. Just as y/n was about to make some asinine comment to change topics, Carmen did it for her.

“Can you pass me the bread, Sugar?” Y/n found her opening.

“Sugar, that’s a nice nickname, what’s the story?” 

Natalie paused and y/n had a feeling she fucked up, “We were having this Chrismas family thing and I added a cup of sugar into the gravy instead of salt. The name just stuck.” Y/n definitely fucked up, she was breaking rules left and right. Y/n scrabbled to put herself in the same level as Natalie.

“I’ve been there. My parents were having a few co-worker over for lunch and they brought a box of these expensive mangos and I was told to make some smoothies because it was boiling that day. I filled up the sugar container with salt without noticing and made them smoothies with a ton of salt.” Y/n saw that all eyes were on her and she didn’t allow herself to be nervous because she was trying to get a deeper point across.

Y/n continued, “I have never heard that many people gag all at once.” Their faces broke into a smile.

“What did your mom say?” Bingo, looks like the taboo parent could be narrowed down to their mother. 

“She didn’t say anything bad, she and her co-workers just laughed. I mean I was a kid and we all make mistakes. I ended up making lemonade instead.”

Natalie’s eyes lit up,“It’s a shame that all those mangos went to waste.” Natalie joked. 

“Waste?” Y/n had a fake offense, “I drank the rest to prove that it wasn’t that bad.”

“Was it that bad?” Pete asked.

“My blood pressure was through the roof. It was the first time I ever got a headache.” 

The rest of dinner was a bit more relaxed, y/n was expecting Carmen to talk a bit more because these were his people but it looked like she would have to do the talking for the both of them. They finished up dinner and y/n got up to help them clean up. It was y/n and Carmen alone in the kitchen while Natalie went upstairs to check on something, aka she needed some rest and Pete went to check up on her. 

As Carmen washed the dishes, Y/n stood by, towel in hand, drying them. The domestic scene felt comfortable, yet she couldn't determine if she truly enjoyed this newfound domesticity. She wondered if in Carmen’s eyes she was merely playing the role of the perfect partner – someone who could effortlessly navigate his family dynamics, fix his business, and be his own manic pixie dream girl. 

A selfish thought crossed Y/n's mind. What was she truly gaining from this relationship? She had been too afraid to make a move with Carmen after the kiss, fearing that one misstep could lead her to being shut out completely. She hesitated to voice her preferences about his food, to ask about the nature of their relationship, or to discuss their future plans if this relationship fell through. Y/n wasn't one to dwell in discomfort, except for her previous job, and she felt frustrated that she had to jump through so many hoops just to ensure that Carmen wouldn't leave.

They finished the dishes and y/n could tell that Carmen wanted to check on Natalie but he didn’t want to leave y/n alone. Y/n being a supportive girlfriend, practically pushed him up the steps before walking out the front door and leaning on the porch. Y/n grabbed her jacket and walked out. She underestimated the frigid Chicago air which felt like a sharp slap to her face, serving as a wake-up call. It reminded her that the warm and fuzzy feeling she had been battling within herself was merely fleeting, and that the reality of the world could be much harsher and more painful. 

Y/n couldn’t help but wonder why Carmen was even bothering with her, they had nothing in common but the restaurant. Work was everything for him and Sydney, their shared connection always pulled them together despite both of their volatile personalities. What pulled y/n and Carmen together? They both worked in the restaurant but Carmen didn’t have a passion for running said restaurant, it was a mere obligation that y/n took from him. If she stopped working there, what else did they have in common? 

Y/n came to the daunting realization that Carmen picked Sydney because he saw potential in her, a chance to let both him and her grow. However, he didn’t pick y/n because he saw something deeper in her, it was an act of embarrassed desperation. 

Was she just a means to help Carmen get his shit together? The restaurant meant a lot to Micheal and after he died Carmen stopped seeing the restaurant as something that was out of his reach but as something to connect him to his brother, a small thread connecting the estranged brothers. Y/n was there to hold up the connection in the vaguest of ways, she kept the restaurant afloat so Carmen could come to terms with Micheals’s legacy, good and bad.

She was lost in thought when she heard the door close, she turned her head to see Carmen was already lighting a cigarette. It was difficult for her to be objective when Carmen locked eyes with her with such intensity. Y/n ripped her eyes from him and faced forward looking at the neighbor's yard, they had nice shrubs. 

“I thought you left.” Carmen started as he leaned on the railing with y/n. He looked forward to see what was so interesting that y/n couldn’t look him in the face, it was just some trees.

“I needed some air.”

“You could catch a cold.” 

“I don’t get sick, sick is a mindset.” Y/n was obviously joking. 

She lowered her head so that she could feel the cold metal on her forehead, maybe a different type of pain would make this conversation easier. Her forehead landed on something warm, the back of Carmen’s hand. She turned her head to its side but remained connected to Carmen’s hand. The warmth radiating on her cheek was making her stomach do backflips. Even if she knew she shouldn’t be indulging like this she couldn’t help it. He felt too good and y/n was getting more and more greedy. 

“Hey, Carmen?” Carmen was still staring at y/n. “What do we have in common?” He looked taken aback.

“We like each other…” He was starting to feel the slow slitter of nausea because he knew the other shoe was about to drop.

“If we don’t have much in common, what do we talk about?” 

“We can talk about whatever we like. It’s nice to…be with someone who isn't wrapped up in the same things as me.” Carmen expressed a genuine warmth in his voice. Carmen wanted to say that she made him feel like the roof wasn’t going to collapse on him and that the small things weren’t going to destroy him but it felt selfish to describe how much he cared for her based on how she made him feel and not on facts about her. 

“I don’t care about fancy food.” Y/n blurted out.

Carmen chuckled, “You know about the vendors, where the supplies are sourced, how much they cost, and a bunch of other stuff. You do care, just in a different way than I do.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It gives me perspective. It’s very realistic and grounded.” Y/n knew he was calling her realistic and grounded. 

“I like hearing you talk about my food.” Carmen offered.

“Even if it’s just “good”?”

“Especially if it's just "good". That means you're telling me the truth.” Carmen recalled a ninth grade world history lesson about the Rosetta Stone, an artifact written in three different languages and made it possible to translate some ancient language. Though he hadn't fully paid attention during the lesson, Carmen now saw the parallel. If Y/n had the courage to express her opinions on his food, it meant she was being honest with him about everything else. 

Y/n cracked a smile before covering her mouth and started laughing. It was a jarring sound, Carmen couldn’t pinpoint what the laugh was meant to convey but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“What?” Carmen asked, Y/n rubbed her face with her cold hands. 

“You said that you were scared of me a while back but now…” Y/n's laughter softened into a smaller chuckle, conveying a mix of amusement and irony.

“I’m scared of you.” The weight was lifted off her shoulders and slammed down on Carmen's. Y/n wondered if this is how the rest of their relationship was going to be; one person transferring their hurt to the other till the weight became too much to bear. 

"It's... I want to bring so many things up to you but..." Y/n wondered if this counted as an accusation. "..you’re so flighty. I don't know what to say that won't make you..." Y/n struggled to find a word that didn't feel so definitive, but the only word that felt honest was, "...leave."

The porch fell into an uneasy silence, both of them grappling with the weight of Y/n's vulnerability.

"I...I didn't realize..." Carmen stammered, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "I would never just... leave." They both stared in silence, they knew that wasn’t true. Y/n lifted her head leaving the warmth behind, she knew this wouldn’t work if he made false promises. And against everything telling her to just accept his promise as law and ignore any doubts, she couldn’t fool herself like that. 

“That’s such bullshit.” Y/n lighty giggled. It felt as though a shark had promised to stop swimming—it was ingrained in their nature. In that lighthearted moment, a mischievous thought crossed Y/n's mind: What would happen if Carmen actually stopped running away? Would he cease to exist, like a fish in space? 

Her playful musings, though immature, offered a brief respite from the weight of their conversation. It was a temporary escape, a way to diffuse the tension. Y/n noticed that she brought all this shit up to comfort herself but she was giggling to make him feel safe. Even when she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn't help but try to make him feel better. 

As the laughter subsided, Y/n met Carmen's eyes, she forced herself to ignore the emotions he was conveying and instead tried to match his eyes with things she had seen in the past. If this ended poorly, she would miss his eyes the most and she wanted to know what else could match in intensity in case she never got to see him like this ever again, nothing came to mind.

Carmen felt like he was backed into a corner, he couldn’t promise her anything without her, justifiably, doubting him. 

"I don't want to leave you," Carmen offered, his voice carrying a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability. It was the most honest response he could offer at that moment. He couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't feel the urge to run, to escape when things got tough, but he had a genuine desire to stay. 

Y/n's eyes met Carmen's, her expression softened. She knew it wasn't a perfect answer, but it was a step forward. It was enough to know that he acknowledged his own complexities and still chose to be present with her.

They stood in the quiet watching neighbors turn off their living room lights and go upstairs. She wanted to test out whether, “They could talk about whatever they wanted too.” 

“What do you think they’re doing?” Y/n asked, Carmen parted his lips and turned his face to look at y/n so see if she was serious, she was.

“I think they go to bed and she has this super long night time routine and he is already asleep by the time she gets to bed. You?” Y/n knew that if they ever slept over at each other’s place, that’s exactly what would happen between them. 

“She probably got home from a shit day and she starts reading an easy romance book…Do you read any books?”

“They are mostly cooking stuff.” He took a drag from his cigarette.

“You read cookbooks for entertainment?”

“Sometimes, it's a part of the craft.” Carmen realized how fucking pretentious he sounded and was a bit ashamed but seeing y/n refrain from teasing him by bitting her lips made him not want to crawl into a hole and die of shame, her smile was addicting. “…but there is a lot of history and science too. '' Carmen knew he sucked at conversation but he would do anything to keep talking. 

“What was your last book?” 

Y/n and Carmen kept talking till they lost track of time and eventually when they had reached a comfortable lull, y/n could confidently say that they were in fact capable of holding a conversation about mundane shit. 

Against every fiber of her being telling her to end their conversation like this, she couldn’t help but ask, “What happens…if this ends?” Y/n didn’t know if she was supposed to use “if” or “when”; one was cautious, the other was a prophecy. 

Carmen didn’t look back at her, instead giving her, “You’ll still have a job…I’m not a dick…all the time.” Y/n lips curved upwards. 

“Will you be able to work with someone you’ve been in a relationship with?” 

“Yes.” Carmen wondered if the answer could ever be anything other than yes. 

Y/n knew that if this ended badly she would be allowed to stick around so that Carmen would have an excuse to throw himself at his work. She would be the catalyst to merge him from an individual to a vague reflection of Micheal’s legacy. 

Whether or not Carmen knew it, Micheal was a huge influence in his life and just like Micheal began to isolate himself towards the end, Carmen would do the same if they drifted apart. It was his inherent weakness and a relationship gone sour that would make it difficult for him to break the cycle that Micheal had started. 

“I won’t stay if it hurts you, Carmen.”

“I would want you to stay, y/n.”

“There is no trophy that comes with going through unnecessary shit.”

“I know, I would still need you.” Carmen hesitated but eventually placed his hand top on y/n's. 

“Because I can do the books?” Y/n rolled her eyes jokingly. 

“No…you do more than that. You are…” Carmen read books with a shit ton of adjectives, they had to be descriptive to describe food through text. Despite that, he was at a loss for words to describe her.

"You are..." he began again, this time his voice was a little gentler than before. He took a deep breath, hoping that he could find those words that would express everything he felt.

"You are very important to me,". His voice was soft like he was realizing this for the first time. 

The second time was meant for y/n, "You are very important to me."  I love you, y/n. 

Y/n locked eyes with Carmen for a moment. 

"You are important to me too." I love you, Carmen.

Neither of them had the courage to say that to each other, wondering if they were the only one’s feeling like this. 

They both had jackets on but y/n’s hands were freezing and she could feel Carmen’s hand was also ice cold. She knew that they had both reached their limits but y/n couldn’t help but relish in the cold for a bit longer. 

For y/n, the biting cold was always a catalyst for clarity, stripping away the unnecessary and forcing y/n to distill her focus onto the few things that mattered. Amidst the frost, she found solace in the simplicity. It was within this chilling environment that she discovered a clear chance to confront her inner turmoil head-on and confront the world. 

Carmen had always been drawn to the intense heat. It was as if the scorching temperatures matched the fire that burned within him, igniting his passion and driving him forward but leaving him with nothing to look back on. Extreme heat was his poison of choice, his way of confronting the world. 

Carmen’s heat was turning her mind into a messy slurry of slush. Y/n had to force herself to focus despite the fact that Carmen’s hand was providing her with a sliver of intoxicating  warmth.

“You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend.” Carmen’s head shot up aback by y/n's words. He was excited to introduce her to his family, and he hadn't thought to ask her permission first. He tried to explain himself, his words coming out in a rush.

"I didn't mean to assume anything. I just thought that since we've been seeing each other for a while now, it was... " He took a moment to catch his breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I think you should try asking first.” Carmen stared at y/n not knowing if this was a trap to get rejected twice. He opted for silence.

“Carmen, ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?” Carmen didn't want to say the wrong thing, not when it was so important, for someone so important. Carmen trusted y/n so he stubbed his cigarette on the ashtray before taking a deep breath and asking, “Will you be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

Y/n wrapped her freezing hands around his neck accidentally grazing her finger on his neck making him shiver. She leaned in against his lip and even though they had kissed before this, Carmen felt like he couldn’t think. Y/n lips barely touching Carmen’s before whispering a soft, “Yes, Carmy.” 

Carmen closed the small gap between their lips. And y/n felt a gentle heat seep through the folds of her head making it difficult to focus on her freezing fingers, or her numb toes, or her goosebump riddled legs, or her shivering arms. Y/n felt Carmen pull her closer and even though they were as close as physically possible, it wasn’t enough. Carmen’s lips left y/n’s before trailing down the column of her neck, y/n could feel the blossoming of heat radiate from his lips. Y/n’s hands sank down to Carmen’s waist and slowly drifted up his shirt. The cold sent shivers down his spine as y/n’s hands moved at a glacial pace. 

Just as Carmen reached the collar of her jacket he looked up at her and y/n had to resist every irrational and reckless part of her that told her to continue. The realization that they were on Carmen’s sister’s porch made y/n look around to ground herself. She landed on a black box right near the door before looking back to Carmen with her mouth agape and her eyes wide open. 

“What?” Carmen questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

“We are on your sister's porch.” Y/n said with a thousand yard stare and a distant mutter.

“I’m not a fucking animal, obviously we aren’t going to do this here.” Y/n softly grasped Carmen’s face before turning towards the black box, a doorbell camera. 

“Jesus…fuck.” They both looked at each other before y/n scrambled inside with Carmen right behind her. Either they were caught and they had to face Natalie despite the embarrassment or they got to the footage before Natalie saw it.  

Y/n let Carmen lead her to Natalie’s room, who thankfully was still laying on her side, Pete had gone to the restroom. 

Y/n leaned up to Carmen before whispering, “Distract her.” Carmen sat near Natalie and asked her if she wanted some ginger-ale or if he should stop by a pharmacy. 

Natalie's phone was on the nightstand and y/n swiped it when Natalie wasn’t looking before unlocking her phone with the password she acquired from being noisy. She then deleted the footage of the last hour from her Ring app. Y/n wanted to scroll back a few months to watch Carmen call her for the first time but she didn’t have enough time. 

Y/n set the phone exactly how she found it and gave Carmen a subtle thumbs up. 

“I’m fine, I think I need to sleep this off.” Natalie sat up while glancing at y/n and y/n had to resist freezing like a criminal caught in the spotlight. 

“I’m really sorry-” Natalie started.

“Please don’t be. I had a great time. Is there anything we can do for you before we leave?” Y/n felt bad for taking advantage of Natalie’s pregnancy induced sickness but this was a matter of prestige, she wouldn’t be able to set foot in this house if Natalie ever saw the footage.  

Natalie shook her head no and they said their goodbye’s before Camren and y/n practically tripped over themselves running out of that house. They sprinted to the car and slammed the doors shut before bursting out laughing. Y/n felt like she was a teenager again, sneaking her boyfriend out the fire escape before her mom walked in. Carmen pushed his forehead into the steering wheel to laugh and the sound that echoed felt like it was melting itself into y/n’s brain, forever branded into her memory. 

“How many times have you been here, Carmen? You never noticed the fucking camera, you dick?” Y/n struggled to shake off the heat that pulsed up her body, Camren hadn’t even started the car yet and she was burning up. 

“I…I never looked, what kind of freak looks?”Carmen said in between laughs. Y/n gave him a fake look of disapproval.

“Turn the car on, Berzatto, you’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

Carmen turned on his car before pulling out of Natalie’s driveway, he was still snickering and in the streetlight y/n could see his neck turn bright red. 

“Stop by a CVS or something.” Y/n said while fiddling with the radio.

“You think you caught something from Nat.” Y/n resisted telling him that pregnancy wasn’t contagious, men are so fucking stupid. 

“You have condoms on you?” Carmen slammed on the break, lucky they were at a red light.

“N...no.” Scarlet crawled up his neck and up his face. Y/n didn’t know someone’s ears could ever get that red before. Carmen stayed still trying to collect his fractured thoughts. 

“It's green, Carmen.”

He stepped on the gas and y/n was glad that the roads were practically empty because he was driving like he had all the insurance in the world. He pulled over to a Walgreens and ran out of the car. Y/n shook her head at his shit parking, he was in between two spots. Carmen came back in a minute with a plastic bag, y/n could decipher from the shapes that he had also bought some gatorades too. 

Carmen pulled out of the parking lot.

Y/n didn’t recognize the streets on their ride back, “Your place?” 

“Mine is closer.” Carmen replied, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation.

Y/n could help but giggle, she always loved it when he was desperate. She knew it was wrong, but she always felt such a rush of excitement when her control over him was at its pinnacle and they both knew it.

When they reached a stop sign, y/n glanced over at Camren and saw that he was already looking back at her. 

They couldn’t seem to care that they were wading in uncharted waters and they couldn’t convince themselves that this was going to end badly enough for them to not at least try. If they looked at each other like that, there was no way they were going to let each other go. 

__

End Notes:

Fire + Ice = Vapor; It took me an embarrassing amount of time to think of that.

There is a lot of tension and maturity that needs to be written in smut for it to be good and I just can’t do that. I tried for this one and I had to close my laptop and take a lap because the second hand embarrassment was too much. So those drafts have been deleted and I’m glad I never have to see them again. 

I didn't think people would like Turbulence, I was going to delete it after a few hours and just keep it to myself but i'm glad that people liked it so ig it's here to stay. I tried to keep this one more contained then Turbulence bc writing about multiple days is such a pain.

I really don’t know what else I might write about for these two, or in general, so if you have any suggestions feel free to send them to me. If your suggestion inspires me, you better believe that I'm going to get out of bed at 2 in the morning and start writing. Or we can bury these two in a shallow grave and forget they exist, which is also fine by me because I think fic aged me.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Masterlist

Cooking Up Speculations

With y/n rushing around to doll herself up for an event, it's only a matter of time before things get out of hand.

Hurricane

The upcoming bachelor party that Carmen has to cater causes some tension. 

Hurricane Relief (Part 2 for Hurricane)

The aftermath of a disaster and how we learn to cope, move on, and grow.

Turbulence

An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Vapor (Part 2 for Turbulence)

An accountant helps Carmen organize his not-so-shit-restaurant and gets invited over for family dinner. 

Recreational

Two chefs, one needs a distraction and the other needs anything but. 

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Turbulence

This is part 1.

You can read Part 2 here

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Word Count: 14k

warning: panic attacks, stabbing Richie in the ass, mentions of suicide, tax evasion lol

__

After years of working in restaurants as an in-house accountant, Y/n met a lot of chefs. They were all the same, especially the good ones, and the worst part was that they all thought they were so unique and tortured. They assumed that their problems justified them yelling over a broken sauce or a pierced piece of veal. They made food look pretty and they served it to people. Women have been doing that for years and you don't have people praising them for that. Now some guy with a complex does it and its art, it's magical, it's jaw dropping. No, it was a waste of time and energy. 

It was food, a necessity and they had perverted it to some freak art show with conflicting flavors and overall mayhem. It was like a cult, where they convinced everyone that their ossobuco for breakfast, coq au vin for lunch, escargots de bourgogne for dinner, and crème brûlée for dessert wasn’t making them physically sick, mixing different cuisine in a failed attempt at being different. It was regular food served small, but the pretentiousness made y/n more sick than their food.

Y/n was willing to concede that Carmen wasn’t the worst chef she met. She got a job at the French Laundry a few years back and there really wasn’t a word that could adequately describe him because to her, Carmen was nothing but a shell of a man. 

In their brief encounters, y/n knew Carmen didn’t have a life outside of cooking. She would watch the chefs come in at the ass crack of dawn and Carmen was always there first. Even when he came to pick up his check at the end of the day, he would grab it before running back to the kitchen to check up on some marinated before he left. The stupid hunk of meat deserved more of his attention than the women handing him his paycheck. She had to refrain her self from screaming, “Look at me you stupid fuck, I’m here giving you your paycheck, look me in the fucking eyes. That steak isn’t going to do anything but get shit out in a few hours! I'm real, look at me.”

It was an immature and one-sided hate, Carmen didn’t really deserve it. However, she found it hard to resist seeing him as an easy target, given his passive nature and frustrating obliviousness to the situation. She never actually did anything crazy like mess with his paycheck or fuck with his W-2, it was more like glaring at him when no one was looking or taking a pen that feel out from his bookbag, holding on to it for a few days, and then dropping it near his locker a few days later. It was very harmless and it felt nice to finally have someone to bother, without actually bothering them. 

Every so often he would do something that would make it difficult to hate him fully. He would open the door for her when they were the first to come into work, or he would help her pick up some files that she dropped, or put that very pen back in her cup holder because he assumed that the pen was her pen to begin with. If he had said a single word to her, y/n would probably have had a bit of a crush on him but he never did, infact y/n never heard his voice. Her office was quite a walk from the kitchen so she was left wondering if he belonged to the boisterous brigade of chefs who bellowed at anything in their path, or if he truly possessed the quiet demeanor he exuded. If he were to speak a single syllable, he would transform from a mere embodiment of her job dissatisfaction into a fully-formed individual.

That's why she was confused when she got a phone call weeks after Carmen mysteriously left. The resignation was a shock to y/n, she never once expected him to quit, she thought he would die on top of the stove when his heart finally checked out from all that fat, sugar and acid at 65. She remembered mindlessly sticking his last paycheck in an envelope to ship to Chicago, maybe he got a better job there at Venteux, Brindille, or Les Nomades. They must have sent an amazing poacher for him to leave just about everything in his locker but his backpack and never look back. 

“Hello, is this y/n?” Y/n sat up on her couch wondering who was calling her at 9pm on a Tuesday.

“Yeah…Who is this?’ Y/n wondered if one of her friends gave out her number without asking her again. Even if this guy had a nice voice and sounded handsome she would have to reject him based on principle.

“It's Carmen…Berzatto… from the French Laundry.” Y/n dropped her phone in shock, not knowing what knocked the wind out of her lungs more, the fact that she was getting a call from an ex-employee, the fact that he had her number in the first place, the fact that she was getting this call scandalously late, or that he actually sounded like that. Jesus, he was really holding back on her. 

“Are you still there?” Y/n grabbed her phone from the floor and gave him a simple, “Yes.”

“How have you…been?” He was unsure how to approach this and he would never do this unless he was desperate, which he was. 

“I have been fine, I heard you moved to Chicago, a new exciting job?”

“That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Y/n didn’t probe because this felt like payback for all the times that she said something to him hoping that he would fill the space just for him to walk into that stupid fucking kitchen and leave her standing around like a fool. 

“Umm…It's a long story but I have this restaurant that needs a bit of accounting?” Y/n didn’t say anything and let him suffer in his own silence like she used to. She chose to flop down on her couch again. 

“I'm not sure what the right word is, but the books are a mess and I was wondering if you could have a look.” 

“Paid of course. Obviously I'm going to pay you.” He stumbled out. Finally, y/n thought, he was fumbling which was a nice change of pace from his usual stoicism. 

“What’s the place's name?” 

“The Beef.” Y/n sat up on her elbows.

“I have never heard of it before, how many stars does it have?”

“It doesn't have any.” 

“Okay…okay?…” Y/n was assuming that he started working at some nepo babies new pet restaurant, the pay must be amazing for him to leave like that. A part of her was proud of Carmen for choosing money over his craft. 

Y/n continued, “Give me the owner’s number and we can get the details together.” 

“I'm the owner.” She didn’t think that she could be rendered speechless by a guy who would probably combust if you squirted cheese-wiz within a 10 feet radius of him.

Y/n composed herself, he was calling for her which means that he needed her. She had the leverage and she wouldn’t ruin it by babbling like an idiot. “I can come by next week.”

She heard a distant sigh, “That's…yeah…yeah, that's great, we will cover travel and get you a place to stay.” Y/n wanted to be a bitch and demand first class and a five star hotel but she had a feeling that he would actually think she was being serious. 

“I’ll send over the information, y/n.” The sound of her name coming out his lips felt foreign, she had never heard her name spoken like that. 

“Good night, Carmen.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone she heard a quiet, “She said yes?” He doubted her. Good, y/n thought, he should doubt her, he doesn’t know anything about her and that was entirely his fault. She hung up the phone and searched up The Beef, she found a hundred restaurants with the same name. What the hell was Carmen doing at a restaurant that couldn’t even come up with an original name.

She gave herself a week to prepare even though she didn’t have a job anymore. She quit a few days after Carmen did, she had lost all motivation to go there everyday, without a target she was just flying till she splattered on the ground. 

The underlying reason for her self-imposed week of preparation was a strategic move to play hard to get. Y/n wanted Carmen to realize her value and understand that he needed her and that she was just as good as him, if not better. 

Immature, petty, bitchy, difficult, mean; maybe her mother was right about her after all. 

A week flew by and she was at baggage claim when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a short woman in a blue apron and an eye-sore of a bandana. 

“I'm Sydney, I'm new. I’m here to pick you up, Carmen says he’s sorry couldn’t do it but we have to prep for the lunch rush.” The way that Sydney looked when speaking about Carmen showed that she had a deep respect for him and a small evil part of y/n wanted to convince Sydney that Carmen was actually tied to the mob or did ballet in his spare time. Something that would knock him off of a pedestal and make him more like a person and less like a God. 

Y/n picked up her luggage and wordlessly rolled it over to where Sydney had it parked. The ride to the restaurant was filled with questions that she really didn’t know the answer to, What was Carmen like in New York? What was a dish of his that y/n liked the most? 

Sydney should have asked what his salary was, that y/n knew like the back of her hand. Y/n answer those questions by repeating things that other people have said about Carmen. His plum desert was to die for, he was very methodical in the kitchen, and he ran a tight ship, what more could she possibly know? 

Sydney finally pulled over in a rough neighborhood and y/n wondered if Sydney needed to do an errand before they finished their journey but when she saw through the window that another guy was wearing the same color apron as Sydney, she knew that this was the famous “The Beef'' that took Carmen away from her. It wasn’t even called “The Beef'' it was called, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland '' which was somehow even worse. 

Y/n told Sydney that she needed a few moments to herself and when Sydney slipped inside, y/n started sprinting towards the pub next door. She gave the bartender a sob story about how she was looking for a job next door as a waitress and how she wanted to know what the situation was next door, for her safety, before she asked for a job. The bartender bought her story and gave her a quick review of what had happened. The previous owner killed himself, shot his brains out, and now it was under new management, the old guy’s brother. Yikes didn’t even begin to cover what y/n thought but that was the best she could come up with, so...Yikes. 

She ran back to the restaurant, fixed up her hair and walked in like she didn’t just hear a horrific story that was going to make it very difficult to do her job. 

Y/n walked in, and she felt like she was in an alternate dimension, y/n was by no means spoiled and she had eaten in worse places than this, but the thought that Carmen Berzatto, her Carmen Berzatto, was working in a place like this felt like a joke. She wondered how stupid he looked in his chef whites, slicked back hair, and annoying long apron that looked like a skirt.

The restaurant hadn’t opened yet but she was greeted by a woman named Tina who basically rolled her eyes at y/n and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sydney chirped in with a comforting, “Yeah…she’s like that.” Y/n gave her an understanding smile. She wasn’t expecting much because nobody likes an intruder. 

“Carmen said I need to look at some books. Do you know where they are…or where he is so he can tell me where they are?”

“Sdy, can you cover for me.” Y/n’s head snapped up, she recognized that voice from the phone call and was rendered speechless twice. He wasn’t wearing those migraine inducingly ugly chef whites but regular clothes with a blue apron. He had many more tattoos than she thought. His hair wasn’t slick back with gel but it was actually relaxed barring any sweat that might have pushed his hair back. Carmen was buff, which was such a shock to her that she really did feel like this was not real. And lastly, he called this “new” chef Sdy, a nickname. They were close, and y/n couldn’t explain it but that made her eyes twitch. She worked so hard to get to know him the first few months at the French Laundry and got nothing and now “Syd” got a nickname. 

She took a deep breath before, “It's been a while.”

“Thanks for coming, let me show you the books.” She was surprised to hear any form of thanks from him but the lack of small talk was really nothing new. She followed him through the kitchen and heat from all the stoves made her nauseous. There was a lot of yelling and it looked like it was an overall mess both aesthetically wise and teamwork wise. 

They finally got to the office, it had a worn desk littered with what looked like a fuck ton of papers, scratch that bills. Y/n looked up at Carmen who looked…ashamed. She took a deep breath before sitting down on the chair and looked up at Carmen waiting for him to give her a rundown of everything. They were behind on every bill imaginable, they hadn’t been able to pay vendors, and there were quotes for broken machines. Looks like Carmen’s brother left him a real shit show. 

This felt like winning the lottery, not only was she seeing an interesting puzzle for her to solve, she was able to see Carmen look human for once. It was a shame, however, that the only human emotion that he was showing was stress but something was better than nothing. One thing that was untouched was the payroll, he never was behind on paying his workers, y/n felt a slight tug in her chest but she ignored that.

He looked down at her, and asked, “I’m going to leave this with you…umm….” And then he left the kitchen. Y/n starting grabbing floating folders and organizing. Most of the stuff was kinda sorted, but stuff like old payroll documents were in a file called “shit”, so she thought a total revamp was necessary. 

It felt like y/n was an intern again, resigned to tedious work. After a few hours and a quick trip to Staples for office supplies, she had made the cluttered desk look like her old desk in the French Laundry…empty, sterile, cold.

With a deep breath she left the kitchen to find Sydney so she could unlock her car so that y/n could grab her laptop. The heat was bad, but the yelling was mind scrambling. It felt like she was dropped in a war zone trying to find where she parked her car, an innocent civilian amongst the war torn soldiers. She couldn’t be here any longer, she practically ran over to Sydney and asked for her car keys and was mindlessly directed to some lockers. Y/n could tell that she was busy so she didn’t ask which one in particular. 

She started opening random lockers, and after her third one she saw a familiar sight. A brown wool jacket, the same one she had seen Carmen wear in New York, she quickly shut the door. This was too much, he was becoming a bit too human, too real. She finally found the right locker and rushed to get her laptop and the rest of her luggage and shut the office door. 

She spent the first quarter of her day digitizing payroll as a quick warm up, she had a feeling that she would need it.

Y/n moved on to a leather bound book under a gas bill and after a quick glance she knew that this was going to be a fucking disaster. Whoever did the books used different coloured pens, was writing outside the lines, circling stuff randomly,  doodling, and this was just the visual disaster, the closer she looked at the chicken scratch the more she realized how deep in debt this palace was. Thousands of dollars were being drained seemingly randomly and then money was being put back just as chaotically. There was no record of how the money was being spent or where the money was coming from. Even though y/n didn’t know Carmen very well she knew he would never do this, it was that brother of his. The inside of the cover said Micheal Berzzato. 

She spent the rest of the day organizing the accounts payable and receivables. It was like trying to go through a dense forest with a pair of nail clippers but she got through a fraction of it. She already knew that the money wouldn’t add up and that if they got audited, the restaurant would be in deep shit. 

She had her headphones in and nearly fell off her chair if Carmen didn’t brace her when he came in unannounced. Her heart practically shot out of her ass but she pulled herself together. 

“I thought you would have left by now.”

Y/n looked at the time on her laptop and saw that it was 11:30pm, she was a bit impressed with herself. Look at me Carmen, I can also throw myself at my work and I didn’t need people to think I'm God’s gift to man. 

“I lost track of time, is the restaurant still open?” Carmen shook his head. Y/n sat up and ushered him to the chair. She didn’t like it when people hovered over her and she wanted Carmen to look up at her for once. She placed her left hand on the back of his chair and her right on the laptop’s trackpad. 

“Your payroll needed to be updated, no one does this on paper anymore.” Y/n showed him how to move things around, how to change certain information, etc and she was expecting him to half heartedly listen but was pleasantly surprised when he sat there and listened. He asked meaningful questions which almost made her fall over, he wanted to learn and that was very… admirable. Y/n had to snap herself out of it, of course he was listening, she was brought here to fix and teach, and she wasn’t cheap either. 

She then directed him to the organized files and how to maintain file organization in case he was ever audited. He stared with such intensity that she had to turn around and pretend that she was looking for a file. She spent her entire career working in a building where almost no one knew her name, or really looked at her. The chefs were busy with their eye filets and lobster to look at her, management spoke to her through emails but now she was center stage which was making it hard to focus.

She ended her presentation with a short run down of the order that he should pay off certain bills based on priority. She finally looked down at him and was surprised that he was still looking back at her. 

“Wow…all that in a day?” Y/n only presented 50% of the work she did today, omitting the illicit money transactions Micheal had orchestrated, and here Carmen was looking at her like she was God’s gift to him. 

“It’s going to take a while to decipher this,” holding up the leather book, “but it's not impossible.” 

Carmen parted his lips before closing them a few times, “How long can you stay here? Like how many vacation days did you take?” 

Y/n debated telling him that she still had a job back home but there really wasn’t any point in lying to make herself look good for Carmen. Y/n was never one to be unnecessarily cruel, just a bit of a nuisance, so she would give him a bit of satisfaction. It was to make up for what she put him through in New York. She pretended to search for something on her laptop while avoiding Carmen’s eyes beneath her. 

“I don’t work there anymore.” Carmen’s head shot up and he wondered if he had heard that correctly. He wanted to ask why she left but he knew that would be crossing a line. 

“What are your future plans?” Y/n looked up and wondered that as well. 

She knew she had to leave French Laundry, she hated the long hours, overbearing bosses, and most of all she hated the people she worked with. There was a team of accountants who worked near her and even though she did the majority of the work she always had to fight to get a seat at the table. She was smart, talented, and competent but she was always officially relegated to payroll even when she was the one who spent weeks organizing binders filled with projection just for some jackass to get the credit. The issue wasn’t just her coworkers but her bosses that assumed that someone else had done the research and let her present, and infuriatingly no one ever corrected management. Add all of that with the loss of what she considered her only acquaintance, she ran as fast as she could. 

As for future plans, she had enough money to live a relatively nice life even if she didn’t find work for a year. She hated the French Laundry but she couldn’t sell them short, they paid her very well. 

“I don’t know, I will probably have to find a new job.” That piqued Carmen’s interest, he assumed that she had another job lined up because y/n didn’t seem like the type to get up and leave without an exit strategy. 

“If you're interested…” Carmen didn’t want to get his hopes up but he knew that he needed her here, this couldn’t work without someone like her. “You can always work here.”

Carmen’s head was swimming, if she said yes that would make his life a million times easier. He might actually be able to sleep a full eight hours. 

Y/n didn’t really know how to respond, she didn’t hate the idea. “Am I going to be the only one working finance here?” Carmen’s chest fell, of course this was too much for one person. 

“Yeah but if you need more peo-” 

“Just me is fine. I don’t like working with other people.” Clear and blunt, y/n didn’t want to waste his time. 

“Yeah..” Carmen looked one last look at the computer screen with the filled excel sheets that transformed his brother’s horrible business practices to legible spreadsheets and he knew he definitely needed her. 

“What time do you want me to come tomorrow?” 

“Whenever is good for you?” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “You are paying for my services so act like it.” What she said was rude and slightly uncalled for.

Carmen looked up at her and felt like he was back in New York again, like when he was too scared to talk to her or when he would catch her glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Carmen knew she didn’t like him but if he needed her so what could he do, most of his staff already hated him so what was one more. 

Y/n sighed, she tried to intimidate him to force him to toughen up but it looks like it just made him clam up. “That was really rude for me to say, but I think you need to hear it.” Y/n had a feeling that he was going to remember this so she thought she started to do damage control. 

“All I ever hear about your food is how amazing and jaw dropping and delicious and mind blowing it is. You are very..” Y/n struggled to find a neutral word that would allow her to lift his spirits but not too high, “..competent. Your staff however…”

That got Carmen to pick up his head, “They are goo-” 

“And I bet they are good but you can’t do your job and show off their skills and talents if they all walk around you like that. Can I be frank with you?” Carmen slowly nodded his head. 

“I don’t see your restaurant lasting very long with the crew you have here.” Carmen knew that but hearing it out loud stung. “You have to make a few changes, either swap out a few annoying chefs or make them change.” 

A few hours prior, y/n’s curiosity had gotten the best of her and she looked through Sydney’s resume. It was stacked with good restaurants and she even had a brief stint at catering, y/n didn’t hesitate to admit that Sydney was just as capable as Carmen. 

“Get Sydney more involved, she can do much more than what you have her doing now.” Y/n saw Sdyney’s pay which showed that she was getting paid a regular chef salary, she deserved sous-chef. Carmen nodded his head but he was looking away, in his mind he wondered how she could possibly even know that while sitting in his office all day. 

“They’re used to doing things a certain way.” 

“I'm guessing fear is not your management style.” Y/n pondered how she would fix a situation like this if she was in his shoes. “I would say avoid baptism by fire.” 

Y/n continued, “It's going to be a mess but you just need to lead the kitchen like you did in New York for the first few days and then transfer the responsibility to Sydney who will be watching the entire time so she isn’t thrown into a pile of shit on her first day and quit. That way you can continue to do whatever you were doing in New York.” 

It had never occurred to Carmen that y/n didn’t know what he did, but then again he barely  knew what she did. He would watch her typing away or he would hear fragments of urgent phone calls about audits, and give out checks. But other than that he didn’t know what she did for the rest of her day, so he had to swallow his discontentment with her not noticing him because he was no better than her. 

“I think you need to expect more from people, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Y/n concluded. 

It was quiet barring the sound of the lights buzzing. Just as y/n was about to slip out, Carmen swiftly stood up and walked out the office towards the kitchen and started pulling out bowls. 

“I thought you said that this place was closed, what are you making?” 

“What do you want to eat?” Carmen wasn’t looking at her as he grabbed a knife and a cutting board. 

“Umm…You don’t need-”

“Give me something, y/n”

“It's late, Carmen.” 

“You’ve been here all day and you didn’t eat anything…” Y/n gave him a disapproving look.

“Y/n.” He asserted, she couldn’t leave in good faith without eating something. 

She didn’t fail to notice that when he lost control back in the office he came rushing out to re-assert his power by forcing her to eat something he was going to make.

“I don’t know…something easy and wont fuck up my stomach.” Y/n conceded.

Carmen smirked, and y/n was able to appreciate his objective handsomeness. After a few minutes of chopping she was presented with a simple salad. 

“I tried to replicate the salad dressing from what I smelled from the last time I went to your office.” Y/n was shocked, she didn’t know that he noticed stuff like that, she was also amused that he had a great nose, both functionally and aesthetically. 

 Y/n was also surprised when Carmen asked her, “Why did you leave?”

“Why did you?” Y/n countered, she knew the answer but she assumed that he wouldn’t tell her. This felt like a decent way to manufacture some space. One step forward for making a meal and 2 steps back for asking probing questions. 

“My brother used to own this place…and he died…killed himself.” Carmen was full of surprises today. 

Y/n mumbled out, “I hated working there so much I would crawl out of bed hoping that I would fall, crack my head open and never have to step foot in there anymore… I would be gagging a block away from work every single day because I couldn’t stomach another second in my office.” 

Y/n assumed that Carmen couldn’t relate, he was a god back in New York.

“I used to throw up every morning.” Y/n put her fork down and looked up at Carmen who continued. “And I would get these heat flashes while I was there even when the kitchen was like negative three-thousand fucking degrees.” 

They were never good enough. 

It was an embarrassing thing for both of them to admit, they tried to survive in New York and failed because they were weak, but at least they were in good company. 

“My boss was a dick. He used to say crazy shit just to get a rise out of me.” Y/n didn’t know that Carmen had a boss, she just assumed that he ran the kitchen. 

“Who was your boss?” Y/n went down her rolodex of names before landing on, “That guy with the huge forehead?” 

Carmen covered his mouth with his hand but she knew there was a smile underneath. She was able to get a good look at his tattoo, she had only caught glimpses when he would grab an envelope from her or hold the door. At the time she thought it was out of place but seeing the whole picture, Carmen with his wavy hair, gold chain, smirk, and arm littered with tattoos she realized that she was missing out on a lot. 

Y/n finished her salad and helped him clean up before they locked up the restaurant and Carmen stuffed her luggage in the trunk. 

“You’ve seen our books..”

Y/n gave a small hum.

“So you know that we can’t put you in a hotel for weeks.”

“If I'm not staying at a hotel, where am I going?” Y/n was ready to jump out of the car if he said his house. 

“I have a family friend of a friend who is visiting family down in Florida, and she said you can stay there.” 

A weight was lifted off of y/n shoulders, y/n was feeling bold, “You’ve ever been to Florida?”

“I went once to check out a few restaurants when I was younger, you?” Y/n hid it well but she was shaking in nerves because it was the first time in years that she was getting some small talk out of him. 

“I went to Disney with my family and got a heat stroke. How long is your family friend of a friend staying in Florida?”

“More than 2 months later, she left like a few days ago.” That caused some concern for y/n, she was going to stay in a house that had been abandoned for a few days in a new city, it was like the beginning of a B - rated horror film. The possibility of a serial killer waiting to turn her into a lamp shade was probably close to zero but it still freaked her out. Carmen pulled into the driveway carrying all of her bags leaving her with just her purse. 

They approached the front of the house and Carmen opened the door and started placing the suitcases near the entryway, and y/n kept the door open, and Carmen got the hint. She wasn’t going to forge some type of artificial connection by asking him to help her walk through the house for any intruders because that would require her to rely on him. 

To y/n, Carmen was unreliable, he could ignore her for years, only to suddenly offer her rides and engage in small talk. What puzzled her even more was his transition from avoiding eye contact to intensely staring her down. Y/n could tell from the sound that leaked from under the office door that he had an underlying temper, a bad one too. She didn’t want to be swept up in his current and be left high and dry. He seemed like he picked up things quickly and left them just as sporadically. While she recognized his passion for food and cooking, ensuring her job stability, Carmen was…unsteady.

Y/n knew people like him, people who hurt those who were close to them when they felt trapped. What feared y/n the most was what would eventually come out of her mouth if they ever got too close and Carmen said something to make her go away. He would say something vile and y/n would probably say that he is nothing, or that he is a failure, or that it should have been him and not his brother. 

The thought of saying something so profoundly awful and untrue haunted her, making it impossible for her to bear the weight on her conscience. She had crossed that line before and was acutely aware of her limits. Carmen represented that limit—a boundary she couldn't afford to cross—rendering him off-limits in her life.

Carmen left a quiet goodbye and y/n gave him one back before shutting the door grabbing a knife and going through each of the rooms herself. She didn’t need him or anyone. 

Once she went through the house with a fine tooth comb she locked herself in one of the bedrooms, got ready for bed. Her lease in New York expired in a few weeks so she knew she had to fly back to grab her stuff. She couldn’t sleep in this grandma’s house any longer so she grabbed her laptop and started looking for apartments. 

Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and she felt nauseous before she remembered that she wasn’t crawling back to the French Laundry, she was trying something new. She got ready and spent the whole morning calling realtors and scheduling showings. She took the train to The Beef and when she came in, it looked like they were about to have some type of meeting outfront. Y/n slipped into the office and was momentarily shocked that Carmen was there. She put her bag behind the chair while Carmen was sitting, subtly telling him to fuck off and that this was her desk now. Carmen got up, “What a good boy? So smart”, y/n chuckled in her head. 

“What is happening out front? Do I need to sit in?” 

“We need to introduce you and we are going to transition to a french brigade, I just spoke to Sydney..”

“How did she take it? You told her you were going to take the lead or did-?”

Carmen was checking his watch obsessively, “She will be fine.” Looks like Carmen was in a hurry and so y/n didn’t even wait for Carmen to open the door before she walked over to the meeting.

She didn’t sit down because there wasn’t a chair for her. She saw the other chefs look at her but no one bothered to ask any questions. Sydney was standing right next to her and y/n saw that she was rehearsing her lines that were written in a small black notebook. 

“Don’t mention the role titles, it's just going to scare them off.” Sydney looked up at her. “And keep it short and don’t fumble your words, you’ll sound like a fourth grader.” Sydney opened her mouth but was cut off by Carmen walking out front. 

Carmen started explaining about how they were getting new aprons, how he wanted to reorganize the kitchen, and how they needed to be clean. He did not yet explain the elephant in the room to the rest of the chefs; who was y/n and what the hell is she doing here? Carmen was interrupted by a tall man walking in very late. 

He took one look at y/n before pointing at her with a coffee cup, “Who are you? Cousin, why are you collecting women?”

“I am y/n, I am the new accountant.” Any form of teasing and snickering died down as a new worry washed over the staff, if Carmen was changing everything he might start changing staff. If y/n could sense it, then so could Carmen and just as she looked up to him for support he quickly excused himself because he had somewhere to be. He just left her to deal with this mess. See? Not stable. 

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Your not fucking firing anyone.” The tall guy threatened.

“Nobody is getting fired, no one is getting a pay cut and no one is getting replaced. If anything like that happens, that is Carmen’s decision.” Y/n allowed herself to throw Carmen under the bus just once because he left her. 

“I’ll just be keeping the books in order.”

“Richie, sit down.” An older woman instructed. 

“Carmen said something about a French brigade, it's essentially what you guys are doing just with more defined roles, it's not too different. Sydney will elaborate.” Y/n though she did an acceptable job not throwing Sydney head first like Carmen did and Sydney seemed to be a lot more comfortable then she was a few minutes ago. She didn’t title drop and she didn’t fumble. The crew was obviously annoyed but it was over quickly and Sydeny walked over to y/n. 

They walked into the kitchen and Sydeny was feeling overwhelmed because Carmen wasn’t here like he said that he would be. 

“Thanks for the pointers” 

“No problem. Do you need me to help?” Y/n had seen the inner workings of a kitchen before, granted it had been many years prior and in a different restaurant then the French Laundry but she thought that she would be better support then Carmen, who wasn’t even there. 

Y/n spent most of her time calling out orders, tracking what was sent out and doing quality checks, it wasn’t rocket science and she never understood why all those male chefs were screaming all the time, Sydney walked around and did her job as sous-chef. Overall, a very calm transition barring a few hiccups. A few of the chefs tried to steal some onions and y/n had to leave her station and tell them to basically fuck off. Sydney was already tense and doing stupid shit like that would send her over the edge.

The lunch rush was over and y/n was finally reprieved from her duties. She needed some air so she walked outside and into an alley where she saw Carmen.

She was beyond pissed at him, and the sight of him made her boil in rage but she couldn’t leave based on principle. 

“How was Sydney?” Carmen asked.  Y/n felt like murdering him. She took a few deep breaths before continuing to speak. He wouldn't listen to her if she screamed at him.

“You should have been there.” Y/n said with a bit of an edge.

It was quiet for a long time. Y/n put her head back.

“I went to an Al-Anon meeting, my brother was an addict. It’s his birthday today” 

“How often are the meetings? Once a week?” Carmen nodded.

“Did it maybe occur to you to push back the transition one more day so you didn’t leave Sydney alone?” Y/n said calmly and with no malice, she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep, food, and being on her feet all day. 

Carmen didn’t say anything, so y/n continued, “You're a steam roller. You don’t listen to other people and you don't think of other people. You left Sydney to drown, that wasn’t great. Not to mention you didn’t even introduce me.”

Carmen's gaze bore into her with undeniable intensity, yet y/n was too upset with him to be swayed by any semblance of attraction.

“I’ll do better. I’ll listen and be there.”

“We’ll see.” Saying you were going to change was different than actually changing. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she graced him with a small smile. "You know, your job isn't that tough," she playfully teased, tilting her head back slightly.

“Really?” Carmen thought she was being serious.

“No kidding, you should hand me your apron and the deed to this restaurant because I just killed it today.” Carmen caught on.

“What did you do today?” 

“Called out orders, made sure things were leaving the kitchen, blah blah blah. Honestly, it's kind of fun. It's like those restaurant management phone games, do you ever play those?” 

“That would hit a little too close to home.” Y/n snickered.

“My head is spinning and I didnt even start the work I'm supposed to do today.” Y/n sat up with a sigh.

“What do you eat?” Y/n didn’t respond. Carmen got up and came back a few minutes later with a plate of food. 

Y/n finished eating before walking inside and finishing up her actual work. The day ended and she was once again the last one left barring Carmen, who offered to drive her back.

As they both sat in the quiet car y/n spoke up, “I have to go back to New York.” Carmen’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“I said I would do better.” 

“I'm not leaving permanently, I need to grab my stuff and tell my landlord that I am leaving.” 

Carmen’s grip loosened, “You found a place here already?”

“I have a few candidates. I might have to leave in the afternoons for a few weeks to check out some places, I'll be back in an hour or two.” 

The rest of the ride was quiet, he dropped her off and y/n crashed into bed. 

__

Y/n had already been working for a few weeks when she came back to a dark restaurant. She walked in and saw Carmen and Fak talking, “ I thought you had a connection.” 

“Yeah, I definitely, definitely did not.” Which was followed by more whispering and then a loud, “Fuck” from Carmen. 

“What’s happening?” Carmen shot a look at Fak that sent him away and Carmen gave her a quick run down, the power was out and they needed 5,500 dollars to repair. 

“There isn’t any money in the budget but maybe if you finance…” Carmen looked around to check if anyone was there before directing her to his office. Y/n turned on her phone flashlight so they could see. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and it's completely hypothetical. Like not even a little bit true and you can tell me what the outcome would be.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Suppose we had a way to get the money but it wasn’t completely…legal…hypothetically. I'm not asking anything illegal because this is hypothetical… but what would happen to the books hypothetically?” 

“You can talk like a regular fucking person, you know, I'm not going to snitch. Do you need me to fix some books?” 

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Carmen started walking towards the door and y/n grabbed his shirt and pushed him towards the chair. He looked up at her and the phone light made her look like a prophecy discovered in a dream, so angel-like. Her words, not so much.

“You brother died so any fuck up that he did will result in us having to pay a fine which is not the end of the world, but if you fuck up… then thats malice and its jail time plus a fine…”

Y/n knew it was harsh so she softened her voice before uttering, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” Carmen was having a hard time focusing, she wanted to help him which means that she cared about him. Maybe her words were like an angel. 

“Is it a one time payment or is it…” Camen wasn’t responding, he was just looking up at her. Before she could ask what his problem was, he interrupted.

“I have to ask Richie.” Carmen peeled himself off the chair and opened the door for y/n. They walked to the front where y/n saw Richie and Fak were glaring at each other. Carmen and y/n took a seat.

“What is she doing here?” Richie said while not hiding his disdain for her. 

“She has to make this legal.” Carmen explained. 

Rcihie signaled for Carmen and Fak to come closer. “WHY DID YOU BRING A FUCKING NARC HERE?” Richie yelled into Carmen’s ears which made him reel back and clutch his ear. Y/n had to look away to hide her laughter. 

Carmen rushed to her defense, “She isn’t-”

“I won't. I'm just going to clean it up and we will never have to talk about it again.”

“We can’t trust her, why would you fucking bring her?” He asked Carmen who repeated what she said to him in the office about malice and jail. 

“I know you don’t trust me but I need this place running so that everyone here has a job next month. I don’t even need to know how you got it.”

Richie looked like he was thinking, before he threatened, “If you squeal i’m going to put your head on a fucking stick.” He looked like he was apprehensive but realized that this was the only way to protect Carmen so he had to risk trusting her. 

Y/n didn’t pay attention to their little squabble afterwards, but then the lights flickered on. They were back in business. Carmen slammed his palms on the counter and exclaimed a relieved, “Fuck” which made y/n short circuit for a second. It was nice to hear him happy for a change.

The rest of the day was spent creating fake receipts and adjusting inventory to account for the new money. It was busy work and after a long time, Carmen came into her office, it was her office for sure, squatters rights. 

“Are we good?”

“The IRS will be none the wiser…” Y/n said she wouldn’t ask but the curiosity was killing her.

“How did you guys get the money?”

“I don’t want to put you in deeper shit and this isn’t your scene.” He looked like he regret dragging her into his mess in the first place.

“Did you know when I was younger I used to shoplift.” Carmen looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“You don’t need to lie to-.” 

“I used to walk into stores and steal, I had the money to buy stuff but sometimes I just felt like taking something…so I did.” She wanted to be on an even playing ground as him so he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her in case something like this happened again. She couldn’t do her job if he hid stuff from her.

“You want to know what the most expensive thing I stole?” 

“I still don’t believe you stole anything.” He said with a laugh. 

“I stole someone’s wallet. It had $527 dollars and a bunch of credit cards, Ethan Thompson. Slid it right out of his pocket.” 

“What did you do with the money?” Carmen asked. Y/n debated lying but she thought honesty was how he would learn to trust her.

“I didn’t spend it, I waited outside till he came out and gave the wallet back. Told him that he dropped it. It was the only thing I ever gave back.” Carmen stared at her with a bewildered expression before laughing into his palm. 

“That seems like something you would do.” 

“Why do you say that?” Y/n was offended that he was insinuating that she was a loser.

“You are honest to a fault. Brutally honest.” 

“It's hard work but I try. Would you have returned it?” Carmen nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I bet you would have gone the extra mile and turned it into the police.”

A lull of silence passed and it was clear that Carmen wasn’t going to tell her so she switched topics. 

“I don’t want to be mean, but sometimes that's the only way I can get people to listen to me…I’ve been working on it.” 

Carmen didn’t want to be a smart-ass and say that he noticed a significant difference from her behavior towards him now compared to New York. She didn’t look like she was disgusted by him anymore. A bit of him wondered if he could change as effortlessly as y/n, she made it look so easy. 

“By the way…I'm going to take this office. Like it's mine now.” Carmen wondered if she was joking because she had a smile on her face.

“If you want it, take it. I never want to see another spreadsheet in my life.” If y/n smiled at him like that it would be nearly impossible for him to say no to anything. It was like finally getting her approval after working hard to get it in New York, like when he used to wake up early so he could walk in with her and open the door for her. 

There was a lull of and just as Carmen was going to fill it with a probing question y/n beat him to it. 

"Was it a murder-for-hire?" Y/n inquired, but Carmen remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Sex work? Tax evasion? Robbery? Drugs?..." y/n continued, listing off possibilities, and in that moment, Carmen's lips tightened imperceptibly. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by most, but for y/n, it was captivating, drawing her further into his enigmatic presence.

“Drugs.” She said with a slight smile,  

“I'm not admitting to anything. Did you find a place you liked?” Carmen wanted to distract her but he also wanted to keep her here longer and he finally had the confidence and momentum to keep her talking.

“I found one, it’s like 20 minutes from here. One-bedroom but it looks much better than my shit box in New York. And they are going to hold it for a while while i get my shit from back home” 

“What neighborhood?” Carmen’s heart leaped when she said the same neighborhood that he stayed in, but he controlled himself.

“That new building? I walk past it everyday.” Carmen didn’t offer to carpool because he didn’t want to hear a rejection. That would kill any confidence he might have gained in the last few weeks. 

“We're neighbors, that's nice. You have a car, can we carpool?” Carmen wondered if she could read minds. 

“I get here early and leave late-”

“I’ll just come and go when you do. I don’t have anything else to do in Chicago anyways…I booked a flight for tomorrow morning to get my stuff.” She moves fast Carmen thought. It was admirable how she knew what she wanted, planned her moves and executed them in record time. He wondered if she ever panicked and fumbled like he did, if she did he never saw it. 

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven” 

“I can drive you.” Y/n wondered if this was too much, she didn’t want to rely on him. 

“I’ll take a cab, you have to be here for Sydney.” She didn’t leave Carmen any room to argue. 

The next couple of months were much better than Carmen thought was possible. Y/n had engrained herself in their team, and Carmen was able to get his eight hours of sleep every night. They finally had enough money to not feel like the whole restaurant was going to crash and burn.

Sydney had brought up the idea of to-go orders placed through a tablet and after much deliberation and consulting with y/n, he decided to give it ago. 

Y/n had stepped out to sign for delivery and was making some pleasant conversation before she heard some commotion from the kitchen. She bid the delivery man a goodbye before walking in to see what the situation was. 

Y/n had never seen the kitchen in such chaos since her first day. Carmen's voice reverberated, barking out orders, while Sydney unleashed her own tirade upon Marcus for mishandling the cake cutting. Tension hung heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was clear to y/n that this wouldn’t end well. Jogging over to Sweeps, who thankfully wasn't completely overwhelmed, she learned that Sydney had messed up the to-go order settings, resulting in a barrage of pre-orders due within a few minutes. Y/n hesitated for a moment, positioning herself in a corner, desperately searching for a way to be of use amidst the chaos. With her limited culinary skills, she felt somewhat helpless, unsure of where she could provide the most assistance.

“Um, I’m doing them in five–” Sydney stuttered.

“No, no, stop. Fire everything right fucking now!”

“Step out.” He was interrupted by Sydney’s excuses.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXPO, CHEF, NOW!” That made y/n jump, she heard him yell before but this was a lot worse, the shock made it impossible for her to look anywhere but the back of his head.  

Just as things looked like they couldn't get worse she heard a loud crash and saw two cakes on the floor. Y/n rushed over there to de-escalate and practically had to rip Sydney away from Richie.

“I said corner.” Richie said childishly. Y/n was starting to feel like a babysitter. And just as y/n was about to run over to her office to hide, she hears Sydney snap at Tina. Y/n guides Tina away from Sydney. 

“Somebody get me a fucking sharpie!” Carmen bellowed and y/n ran to the office and pulled out a few and placed them in front of Carmen then walked back to her little corner. She heard that Richie and Sydney were at it again, sensing that round two was going to be worse she had to go check on that mess. Sydney is harping on and on about how much of a loser Richie and y/n was forced to step in when she hears Sydney talk about Richie’s daughters while waving a knife. 

“What the fuck are you guys’ doing? We do not have the time for your asinine bullshit?” Sydney doesn’t even look over and y/n had to tug at Richie to get him to step down, normally y/n would appeal to Sydney’s good graces but she couldn’t go near her when she was waving a knife around. 

“Richie, why don’t we take a step back and-” y/n asked. 

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!” Y/n turned her head and saw Carmen squishing something Marcus gave him before throwing it on the floor. 

“Yo, Cousin, just fuckin chill-” Richie stepped back and even when she saw where the knife was headed she was to slow to do anything. Richie walked into the knife and blood started pouring out. 

Y/n felt her breath pick up, her palms started to itch, and she was seeing double. She fought her nerves and led Richie to the front where Ebra would dress his wounds. Y/n didn’t want to look at Richie’s bare ass but she had to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a hospital trip, it didn’t and y/n saw that as a complete win. 

Y/n ran back to the kitchen towards Sydney where she was sitting near the lockers. She was about to leave. 

“We need you, you can’t leave. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.” Y/n desperate, she knew the face of someone who had given up and she saw it all over Sydney. 

“He is being a little bitch.” Y/n didn’t know how to fix Carmen’s attitude so she did the next best thing, stall.

“Please, give me a day to fix this. I’ll have him come around and apologize, I'll make him regret even getting out of bed. Just please stay till this blows over. We need you. Please.” Y/n was beyond desperate, she couldn't stand doing Carmen’s job of managing his team but she forced herself to pull through. Sydney backed down and went to the sink to wash her knife before going back to prep. 

Y/n hears Carmen walk over to Sydney and ask, “We good, chef?”, who wasn’t responding. This bastard was so incredibly dense y/n almost wanted Sydney to blow up in his stupid face and maybe stab him in the ass too but she denied herself that pleasure and quickly diverted Carmen over to the expo. 

“Now is not the time. Do this later… Please.” Y/n was grasping at straws here and she wasn’t even given the satisfaction of being able to yell at someone. Carmen went back to his expo but not before bending down and eating something off the floor. He has definitely lost it, y/n muttered. 

She went to find Marcus who was just about to leave. She thanked him for today and apologized on Carmen’s behalf. Y/n didn’t want to be a bitch but Marcus was not high on her priority list right now, him leaving would let her deal with less people and make her job easier. 

She ran out front to check up on Richie again. “Please tell me you're okay.” He gave a small laugh and then a grunt. She saw that he was grasping an empty carton of cigarettes. 

Y/n didn’t know how, but the storm passed and the doors opened for customers. Y/n slipped out and bought a carton of cigarettes and some painkillers from a nearby gas station and handed them over to Richie.

“I know this isn’t even a good enough apology but I’m really sorry about today.”

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“You're not going to get an apology from Sydney for a while so let my apology be a placeholder.” Y/n rounded her eyes and tried to see if there was any residual tension from this morning and to her relief Richie was fine. 

“Tell me if you need something.” She then went back to the kitchen and Sydney was still cutting stuff and Carmen was yelling out orders with less fury. Y/n wasn’t going to have anything positive to say to either of them so she would wait till after the lunch rush. She slipped back to the front and sat on a bar stool with her laptop. She couldn’t face either of the chefs right now. 

Looking at Sydney was difficult, and the longer that y/n waited out front with Richie to make sure he didn’t die of blood loss while manning the front, the more pissed she got at Sydney for not having the decency to come out to check up on Richie or even apologize. 

Looking at Carmen was even more difficult, a part of y/n wanted to be proven wrong about her previous notions about pretentious chefs. But both Sydney and Carmen were the only one’s screaming and that because they felt like they were entitled to it, that they were the only ones who were allowed to be stressed and upset. They were selfish and that was a painful thing for y/n to admit about Carmen because that meant that his promise to change when she first came here was a lie. He couldn’t handle any type of stress without flipping out and she wondered if this was even the right profession for him. 

The lunch crowd died down and she directed Sydney towards her office and shut the door, “You want to tell me what happened today?” Y/n faked the sincerity, Sydney wouldn’t talk if y/n was hostile.

“Carmen was being a dick. Everyone else is dealing with the same shit but now…” Y/n didn’t want to hear anything else for her. 

“How is Richie?” Y/n asked with a bit of an edge. 

“He walked into my kni-” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I don’t know, okay? But it was his fault,” Y/n had to remind herself to take a few deep breaths, she wouldn’t let her anger get the best of her and she would refrain from yelling.

“When you finish with your shift, can you please talk to Richie, at least pretend like you care that you stabbed someone.”

“He called me a bitch and was all over my station, he deserved it, ” 

“You deserved to be called more than a bitch.” Y/n regretted the words as soon as they came out but she wasn’t going to lose face. Sydney looked shocked but y/n kept her face stoic.

“Talk to him.” 

Sydney didn’t respond but y/n knew she wouldn’t talk to Richie. 

Y/n felt her blood bubbling, “You could move to fucking Timbuktu and be a chef there and you still wouldn’t rise above average, do you know why?” Y/n didn’t give her a chance to answer. 

“It's because you are the problem, you are selfish and you don’t think. You can quit here and never look back and you know what is going to happen next? You're going to find another job and then leave that job and then find another job and leave that one too and keep doing that till you die.” It was getting harder for y/n to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in. 

“I have been gracious enough to give you the space to grow, I told Carmen to make you sous but every second that I take my eyes off either of you, it's like shit hits the fan. Are neither of you capable of doing your jobs?” Y/n was ranting. 

“If today was so bad that you have to make someone else's life miserable and then whine about yourself, you shouldn’t even be allowed to work in soup kitchens.” Y/n took a painful deep breath, her head was spinning and she was suppressing the urge to start dry-heaving. 

“You will forever be nothing unless you change, you are impatient, selfish, whiny, annoying, vindictive, and…and..” Y/n had to end on a good note or else Sydney might actually quit. 

“..capable of doing better. I have seen the way you cook and manage a kitchen when it's not a shit storm. I bet in a few years you're going to make Carmen’s food taste like MREs. You are destined for good things but that will only happen when you grow up.” 

Sydney was quiet before she stomped out of y/n’s office and slammed the door shut. 

Y/n sank down onto the floor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was as if she had been transported back to New York, constantly juggling her and her co-worker’s workload and assuming the role of the villain. She desperately sought control, but the grip of the panic attack tightened its hold, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to regain control over her racing thoughts. It was an exhausting battle, one that felt all too familiar. She grasped at the chair trying to stay up right but after a few moments of dizziness, she slipped to the ground. 

She was keenly aware that she couldn't single-handedly orchestrate transformative change in just a few short months but she thought that Carmen would at least learn to step up. She longed for a sense of calm and it burned to know that Carmen was incapable of being that for her now. The knowledge weighed heavily on y/n's heart. The realization that Carmen, the one person she had hoped could offer her some semblance of stability and support because he said he would, was not yet equipped to be that pillar for her. It was a painful acknowledgement, one that underscored the inherent instability that defined their dynamic. Carmen was not stable. 

Y/n took a few deep breaths, wiped her tears, and stood up after pushing her sadness and disappointment with Sydney and, more importantly, Carmen in a deep crevice in her mind. 

The kitchen had lost two chefs but it was still running smoothly because it was a slow day. Y/n discreetly circled the kitchen, she made a conscious effort to conceal the fact that her blood was boiling, striving to maintain composure amidst the chaos.

And just as she was about to retreat to her office, the man of the fucking hour decided to show up. 

“Bad news guys, we have to close for dinner today because we are having a bachelor party in the front.” Y/n looked at a few sips of water, she needed to ground herself and resist throwing the cup of ice water in his face. Carmen glanced up at her and was met with the same eyes from New York, the ones which were glaring at him, disgusted with him, hated him. Y/n walked over to the alley and Carmen followed her even when she didn’t ask. 

Y/n indicated that he sat down with a pointed look with her eyes, y/n stayed standing. 

“I was hired to be your accountant, but today I was playing babysitter for a bunch of grown fucking adults. Why am I walking around your kitchen and apologising to your fucking staff while you do absolutely nothing.” She took a staggered breath.

"They were goddamn pre-orders, for crying out loud! If they were a little late, it's not like a customer would barge into the fucking kitchen to hang you. You guys have already had a C health rating and got into a fight with some customers a while back, so clearly customer satisfaction isn’t the issue.” The corners of her eyes were turning hazy. 

“Why the hell do other people have to clean up your damn mess? How hard would it have been for you to tell Richie to inform the customers that the orders were going to be a bit late?” Carmen didn’t look up, keeping his focus on y/n’s shoes. 

“Not fucking difficult at all, its like…like you wanted an excuse to be a prick.”

“Its your fucking entitlement, you are just like Sydney. You are selfish and you will never amount to anything unless you learn to deal with your problems. I mean this in the most blunt and sincere way possible: go to fucking therapy. If money's a problem, I'll foot the bill. I want you to go there and let them throw every damn thing they have at you, from drawing pictures to giving you a fucking lobotomy." Y/n’s face was getting hot and she could feel her forehead burn up.

“You are running a kitchen in a shitty neighborhood with people who would be happy if you served them insulation in between two pieces of drywall, it has never and will never be that serious.” Y/n gave herself some time to breathe before giving him a little bit more. 

“You’re the head of the kitchen, you're supposed to be everyone’s support. You have to be…s-stable.” It was difficult for y/n to choke out that word, it hurt too much. “Your team shouldn’t have to walk on fucking eggshells when things get tough.”

“You promised me that you would do better, that is the whole reason I chose to stay. Did you know that I was going to tell you that I changed my mind after I accepted your job offer? I didn’t because you promised you would be better…do better.” Y/n knew there was some stuff she missed but she was exhausted and wanted to go back. She uncrossed her arms and knew that it was time to do some damage control again.

They stayed in silence for a long time before y/n let out a deep sigh, “I'm sorry, it's just… today was a lot when it really didn’t need to be.” Y/n sat down right next to Carmen, she gave him a few inches of space, he still wasn’t looking at her. 

Carmen did well with praise y/n recalled, “You are a very talented chef and you are great at organizing a kitchen but that's very different from managing a kitchen with people in it.” A silence passed through them and y/n gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Marcus was completely wrong and I don’t fault you for that. I know I would have done the same thing. What kind of idiot worries about donuts when everyone is asking you about cakes?”

“They were good.” Y/n almost missed it but she was glad she didn’t. That meant that she hadn’t completely broken him. 

“I bet they taste even better off the floor.” Y/n chuckled and even if Carmen doesn’t join her, he does pick his head up and look at her. The fact that she was still able to smile after ripping him to shreds was very reminiscent of many people in his life. He knew that she was probably right but he also knew that aspects of her criticism would keep him up at night for years to come

“Was I too much? ” Y/n asked.

“I needed to hear it…” Y/n let them stew in silence. 

“You need to find the root of your issues and fix them.” Y/n offered. 

“Are we good?” Carmen asked. Y/n was tempted to say yes so that they could move on but she had a feeling that was too easy for him. She worked hard today to be a force of stability and support for everyone and saying yes to Carmen’s question only comforted him. Y/n wanted to be comforted for once.

“No.” Carmen’s face betrayed his shock. 

“What can I do to fix it?” Carmen was desperate.

Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. Y/n didn’t respond because she didn’t know how either.  

Carmen felt a heat crawling up his chest, a sense of being trapped. He knew he could go back to Sydney, apologize, and promise to change, and they would be good. He knew that if he checked up on Richie, they would be good. He knew that if he swallowed his pride and prepared family dinner today, he would be in good standing with the rest of his team.

But Carmen was starting to realize that he didn’t really know enough about y/n to make this good. Carmen spent a lot of his time overthinking every minute detail of his life but no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to fix this, nothing seemed right. He couldn’t leave because he knew if he did that would be admitting defeat and that would ruin any friendship he earned with y/n but he couldn’t find the right words.

She couldn’t leave Carmen without it killing him. Her words echoed in his head and he tried to find a clue, something that would give him an opening to learn more about her so she wouldn’t leave the restaurant, leave him. 

“Why did you hate me? Back in New York.” It was a risk but it felt like his only option. Y/n parted her lips a few times, it was like she was formulating a response that wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need her to comfort him, he needed to comfort her.

“Don’t lie, y/n.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Y/n conceded. 

“Don’t bullshit me. The way you looked at me-”. Y/n didn’t know that she was being that obvious.

“You were…I don’t…” Y/n realized she had placed Carmen in an impossible situation by asking him to fix something without providing guidance, as she herself didn't know how to rectify her past mistakes without any guidance.

“I was really unhappy with my job and I thought that if I had someone, if I had you, we could stick together. We used to come and leave work at the same time, we were polite, you seemed like a nice guy. We could have helped each other out, I wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. It was selfish of me to put that pressure on you, I shouldn’t have done that…” That was the diluted version of the story, y/n was willing to take the blame for everything in New York but Carmen didn’t look satisfied, so she continued. 

“I used to hand you your paycheck and you never made eye contact. I didn’t even know your eyes were blue until I had been working there for two months.” Carmen locked his eyes on y/n’s.

“I would try to talk to you and you never responded, I didn’t even know what you sounded like. You called me a few months ago and I didn’t even know it was you because you never said a word to me. I used to think that you thought you were too good to talk to me.” Carmen fiddles with his finders and y/n had to tear her eyes away from his hand so she could focus.

“I worked hard for a while to get close to you but you clearly weren’t interested. I took the hint and backed off. The looks were…immature and stupid but I couldn’t help it…I hated my job and you were an easy target. It's easy to hate something you know nothing about.”

“Do you hate me now?” Carmen whispered. 

“Not anymore.” Y/n responded softly. 

Carmen's shoulders visibly relaxed as he heard Y/n's response. Relief washed over him, mingled with a renewed sense of hope. 

Carmen replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never wanted you to hate me. I just...you would look at me like that and it was one more reason that convinced me that I wasn’t fucking good enough for that job.”

Y/n had the daunting realization that she was one of the reasons why he left the French Laundry, why he left her. She felt extra guilt for yelling at Carmen for fucking up and being selfish when she did the same thing without knowing it. She blinked back some tears, she needed to hear this, even if it hurt. 

“I'm sorry, I was completely-.” 

“I used to be scared of you.” Carmen interrupted. Y/n sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she asked in pure bewilderment.

“It felt like you were leagues ahead of me…it's like comparing an ant to…umm…” Carmen was struggling to spit something out, “divinity.” That made y/n widen her eyes and lean forward.

"I never saw you as beneath me, y/n. You were always on a higher plane, like we lived in different fucking planets." Carmen's voice held a touch of reverence, acknowledging the perceived disparity in their positions. 

“You were always so…perfect. I never saw you struggle. Even now, you pick things up fast, people like you, you are great at whatever you do, you never get mad for no reason.”

“People don’t like me and I did get mad for no reason, I just yelled at Sydney before I got to you.”

“We deserved it.”

"It wasn't my place. It's your kitchen, and I shouldn't have gotten involved." Carmen felt sick. She was distancing herself from the kitchen and from him. She was trying to run away and he couldn't let that happen.

“I wouldn’t have anything left if you left.”

“You would have been fine, you would have Sydney.” 

“But you…you…belong here. I can’t do this without you.” Carmen felt like she was slipping from his fingers and he was trying to grasp on to any part of her that he could convince to stay. 

“Give me a reason to stay, Carmen.” Y/n's whispered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. She wasn't sure what words were left to be spoken, but she knew she had to say his name. Y/n wanted his name to swirl around her tongue, and imprint the feeling of his name leaving her lips. 

Y/n shifted her gaze, positioning herself to face him directly, and her eyes couldn't help but gravitate towards his slightly parted lips. It was clear that he had something to say, and she leaned in, eager to catch every word. In response, Carmen shortened the distance, drawn by the intimate proximity. It felt as if he was about to share a secret with her, a whisper that only they would hear.

With their faces mere inches apart, Carmen's right hand softly landed on the seat beside Y/n's thigh, subtly adjusting their positioning to align their faces. Y/n’s right hand began to rise, caressing his face tenderly. Y/n locked in with his cerulean eyes wondering if she was the only one feeling this. She tested the waters by running her thumb across his lips. They were a bit chapped from biting them all morning. 

Feeling the touch of Y/n's thumb on his lips, Carmen's breath caught in his throat. It was a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Y/n mumbled as she leaned in closer. 

Without breaking eye contact, Carmen reached up, gently cupping Y/n's face with his hand, his touch conveying tenderness and longing.

WIth a hoarse whisper, Carmen pleaded, “Kiss me, y/n.”

Y/n closed the gap and it was a collision of pent-up passion and aching yearning. Y/n's fingers tangled in Carmen's hair, pulling him even closer. Carmen’s thumb stroked y/n’s jaw and he couldn’t believe how soft her skin was. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat and intensity of their shared desire. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other. Every touch, every gentle nip of their lips, fueled the hunger that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words. 

Carmen didn’t want to pull away because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get another kiss, he wanted this one to last. He didn’t want to regret 20 years in the future not kissing for a few moments longer. 

Y/n, breathless and in need of a moment to regain composure, pulled away from the kiss. Soft gasps escaped her lips as she tried to steady her racing heart. Carmen, caught in a blissful daze, found himself unable to flutter his eyes open. Carmen remained in a suspended state, savoring the lingering sensation of y/n's touch.

Carmen’s phone buzzed and that wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt like he was floating. If he didn’t move and really focused, he could convince himself that he was still kissing y/n. 

He felt y/n’s hand slid up his apron and trail up his leg. Carmen's breath hitched, his senses heightened, as anticipation swirled in the air. He sat still, nervous to do something like this in public but if y/n wanted him to do something he would do it in a heartbeat. He trusted y/n completely, willing to follow her lead without hesitation.

Finally, Y/n's hand reached its destination, and Carmen's pulse quickened. Y/n pulled something out—his phone. 

Confusion flickered across his features as he watched Y/n's playful expression. Y/n was teasing him, realizing the momentary tension she had caused. Carmen's anxiety gave way to relief, his lips curving into a smile of his own. He completely forgot about the buzzing so she answered the phone for him and brought it closer to his ear. He took the phone from her hands ensuring that their fingers grazed. It was a small, subtle gesture, yet it held the power to ignite sparks of electricity that danced along his skin.

“Yo, cousin. Where the fuck are you?” 

“Why?” Carmen wanted to stay with her for longer but Richie, being a gigantic cockblock, was ruining that for him. 

“You're out past your curfew. Why do you think?” Richie remarked sarcastically. “You still have a job, you can't just sit around in an alley like some kind of fucking sewer rat.” 

“Richie, I swear to fucking good if the kitchen is fine and you dragged me back there for no reason, im gonna stab your other ass cheek.” Carmen waited till Richie started to talk back before hanging up on him, he was being petty. Carmen saw that y/n tucked her lips to prevent a laugh from escaping.

Carmen sat wordlessly, not wanting to leave just yet. Y/n stood up and Carmen followed her. As they stood face to face, Y/n's hands instinctively brushed his hair back into place, fixing any stray strands. With gentle precision, she smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt sleeves and straightened his apron.

Y/n's finger traced lightly across his lips a few times, and a mischievous smirk fell on her lips. "Your lips are going to be a problem," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in their eyes. Carmen's mind momentarily scattered, unable to fully focus.

"Y/n?" Carmen's voice wavered slightly, his thoughts still clouded by desire. 

Y/n, sensing his internal struggle, mustered a playful yet firm resolve. "Go back to the restaurant, I’m still mad at you." she gently nudged him toward the alley exit with an addictive smirk. 

Carmen blinked, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of longing. 

"But when-" Y/n interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation. 

"I'll see you in just a few minutes."

As he busied himself with checking on Richie and apologizing to Sydney, Carmen didn’t miss how y/n slipped inside and walked into the office.

Carmen was still pissed at Richie, who was counting the money in the drawer as they were about to close early to do family dinner.

“Why even bother calling if the place is empty, you dick?” Carmen said in a huff.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you sucking face with your new girlfriend.” Carmen’s jaw went slack.

“Carmy, you're so handsome.” Richie said in a hushed girly tone, mocking y/n’s voice. 

“How-” Carmen started.

“You left and y/n left and you both came back within 5 fucking minutes of each other.”  Carmen parted his lips trying to form a response. 

“You should learn to hide this stuff better. Your lack of girlfriends is catching up to you.”

__

End Notes:

This is purely experimental so I will most likely not write stuff like this in the future, but if people like it, who knows?

We can delude ourselves into thinking that Carmen would be boyfriend material, but he most definitely isn't. I wanted to write something with an unreliable y/n who complains that Carmen has all these anger issues, is domineering, doesn't listen to people, is controlling, is selfish, is extremely unstable, etc. However, she is exactly the same; she just doesn't realize it.

At the end of the day, Carmen meshes well with people who are similar to him, which is why he is close with Sydney and sometimes Richie (their shared love of Michael and The Beef). I wanted to write something where he pursues someone who has similar flaws as him. I guess it's up to you guys to figure out if it's the start of personal growth on both ends or if it's a doomed romance.

Part 2

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Hurricane Relief

This is part 2.

You can read part 1 here.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of a disaster and how we learn to cope, move on, and grow.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: 1) This is based off of s1e8, but we are going to pretend that Syd did the tablet thing correctly and Carmen doesn't lose his shit in ep7.

2) I am a completionist at heart so I felt an obligation to finish this because I know that if I was reading something and I didn't get a confession at the end I would riot and I aim to please.

__

“Where did you get the money for bail?”

“Used our two week parachute.” 

Y/n, barely conscious felt something pushed up against her chest. She peeked her eyes open and saw that she was sitting in the backseat of Carmen’s car already buckled in. She shifted over to her left so she could rest her elbow on the armrest against the door and balance her head. Carmen glanced through the rear view mirror to confirm that she was still asleep, he locked the car door so she wouldn’t fall out. 

Richie looked back before uttering a small, “Thank you, cousin.” It was strangely vulnerable to thank someone and even more vulnerable to do it with an audience, even if they were asleep. 

“All good.” 

After a few more beats of silence, y/n assumed that their bro moment had reached its conclusion and that she could finally pretend that she had just woken up. Then she heard a sniffle, at first she thought that her mind was playing tricks on her but she heard it again, and then a few more times. Maybe now was not the best time to announce her presence. 

“You okay?” Although she couldn’t see Carmen’s face she was hearing concern and a bit of apprehension. She could tell he wasn’t comfortable with consoling Richie. 

A small but broken, “Yeah…I’m okay” escaped Richie’s mouth. 

Unable to resist, she stole a quick glance at the rearview mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carmen's eyes. They appeared slightly glassy, yet the softness in the corners revealed a simmering sense of relief. Though he was clearly upset, she reassured herself that he would ultimately be alright. Once they returned to the restaurant, she planned to check in on him, but without pressuring him. Recognizing his need for rest, space, and comfort, she understood that he often neglected these needs for the sake of others but she was determined to ensure he received the care he truly deserved.

Carmen took one last look back before pulling out of the parking spot and driving them back to the restaurant. Y/n was wide awake now but she knew that both Carmen and Richie needed some time and space to process what had happened. None of that would work if she was visibly awake, she had a feeling that they would pretend to be all tough by pushing their problems aside because they didn’t want a girl to see them being “sensitive”. So she planned to keep her head down and wait till they were near the restaurant to “wake up.”

The ride back was slow and smooth, Carmen didn’t drive over a single pothole, he stopped softly, and didn’t honk once, which was rare in Chicago. He wanted to drive her home and put her to bed but he had a feeling that she would be pissed if he dropped her off home while they went back to the restaurant. 

They were 45 minutes away from the restaurant but he was wondering if he should wake her up when they got there, or if he should let her sleep in his car. If he left her in the car she would be able to sleep in but it wasn’t safe, what if someone broke a window? At the same time, if he brought her to the restaurant, there was nowhere for her to rest. He was driving on auto-pilot while he was trying to figure out the best way to approach the dilemma, because if there was one thing that Carmen was good at it was overthinking. 

On top of worrying about y/n, Carmen had to steal a few quick glances at Richie to make sure that he was ok, it was hard to tell because he was looking out the window but the reflection showed Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, he was thinking about something, or someone. Thinking was better than being depressed. 

A small selfish part of Carmen wondered if anyone would ever dissect every small aspect of him to make sure that he was also ok, like he did for others. 

The car ride was peaceful and quiet until a neighboring vehicle suddenly honked near y/n’s window, causing her to jolt and accidentally slam her forehead against the glass.

“Jesus, fuck.” Y/n hissed while putting her cold hand on her forehead to calm the bruise that would inevitably form. Her cover was blown.

Carmen’s head whipped back, “Are you ok?” 

“I'm good, it's just a small bump.” She tried to rub the forehead to quell the pain but it was too tender. “Pay attention to the road, I don’t want to see another police officer for the rest of my life.” Carmen involuntarily flicked his eyes to y/n’s forehead through the rear view mirror. 

Y/n couldn’t tell what Richie’s status was and he hadn’t made a single peep the entire car ride, even when she was “asleep”, so she couldn’t gauge whether or not she should talk to him. 

“We’re glad to have you back, Richie '' She left it open and didn’t expect any response in return. He didn’t respond but he moved his eyes from the passenger window to the windshield and sat up straight. Y/n felt a bit of uneasiness, this was the longest Richie was quiet and she kind of wanted him to make fun of Carmen or at least laugh, something to show that he wasn’t hurting. 

The rest of the car ride was quiet, they eventually pulled up to the restaurant and they walked in. Y/n and Carmen had left the restaurant as it was and even though they knew it was a mess, it was a different beast in daylight. Both y/n and Carmen walked to their lockers to grab their emergency toothbrush and other hygiene products in an effort to look less dead. 

Once they freshen up they went their separate ways. Y/n walked behind the counter and pushed some styrofoam cups aside to start the coffee machine. She waited for the coffee to finish brewing before pouring a cup for the three of them. Richie took one of the cups off the counter and disappeared. 

She walked over to Carmen who was throwing away half eaten food from the tables. 

“Here.” she handed a cup over to him and once again their fingers brushed each other but this time she forced herself to ignore the electricity. Whatever she was feeling would be an additional burden to Carmen, one more thing for him to worry about. Carmen didn’t need this right now, he needed some calm and space. 

She heard a soft thanks, and even though she was supposed to give him space she couldn’t suppress the urge to check on him one more time. His eyes were no longer glassy but the dark circles told her everything she needed to know. He glanced up at her face, finally getting his first good look at her since they left the station. He walked over to the kitchen door and signaled y/n to join him right before he disappeared. She heard some shuffling and she walked over to the kitchen after taking one more look at Richie who looked like he was doing better. 

Y/n went to the kitchen and was pleasantly surprised that it was not as bad as the front, it wasn’t great but still miles better. The kitchen was empty but Carmen’s office door was wide open, she peered inside to see him holding a ziplock filled with a bit of ice and water. 

He shut the door and pulled out a chair indicating that she was supposed to sit. She sat and looked up at Carmen before feeling the ice on her forehead. She groaned in discomfort, “You didn’t have to.” Carmen moved the bag around so the cold didn’t hurt. Y/n felt like she wasn’t doing enough, she was supposed to take care of him and here he was taking care of her. That wouldn’t do.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked while avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t look at them without getting distracted and she needed to focus on Carmen. 

“I'm good.” Soft but left no room for elaboration. Y/n knew she couldn’t crack a few jokes to make him feel better, that was wholly inappropriate. She also couldn’t probe for answers either because that would just stress him out, any form of pressure would probably make him feel like a caged animal being cornered. Saying nothing felt like they were ignoring the very obvious elephant in the room. It was like all roads lead to nothing unless Carmen opened up a bit more, which didn’t seem like was going to happen so y/n settled for a distraction.

“Is it bad?” Y/n said while touching the bag of ice barley missing his fingers. She ignored Carmen’s body heat that was radiating onto her side and she also pretended not to notice the way that his lips parted in concentration.

“I'm going to need you to be honest with me, don’t worry I can take it. If I look like shit you’ve gotta tell me so I can get some impromptu bangs or something.”

“You don’t look like shit.” Carmen mumbled.

“I bet I don’t look good,” Y/n swiveled around towards Carmen’s desk for some scissors, “bangs it is.”she exclaimed. Y/n was only joking but she needed a bit of a breather before she broke her own rule about giving Carmen some space. 

Carmen grabbed the chair’s armrest and swung it swiftly so she was facing him again. Her heart leaped out. “You look like how you always do.” He was too much of a wimp to call her breathtaking, the word felt foreign in his head; he could only imagine how disturbing it would be to hear it from his lips. He gently grabbed her chin before putting the ice on her forehead again. Y/n couldn’t escape this time. 

The silence was killing her and she thought she should at least talk about her own experience to let him know that they could talk to each other about stuff like this. 

“I was really scared...” Carmen looked into her eyes and they softened a bit. 

“I was scared that Richie was going to be in jail for basically forever…and …and,” Y/n hesitated, was what she was about to say to Carmen considered cornering him?

“I was scared for you.” Carmen’s hand stalled midair, still holding the bag of ice. He didn’t move for a few moments, “I was worried that this would..” She couldn’t think of what to say next. She could feel the gears in her head working overtime to churn out something that would summarize what she was feeling. “..break you and you wouldn’t let me help you.” She felt her eyes start to burn and a lump form in her throat that was choking her. She wouldn’t cry, he couldn’t deal with his own problems while consoling her. 

“I would have been okay.”

Y/n waited till the lump in her throat stopped burning. “You always are Carmen, but sometimes it’s nice to be better than okay…” She couldn’t do anything about her voice cracking but she might as well finish before she became a mess, “You deserve it.” 

Y/n said her piece and they both simmered in the quiet. A sigh reverberated through the walls and Carmen looked into y/n’s eyes. His lips parted and closed a few times as he tried to formulate a response but nothing he could think off would sound as well-put together as y/n’s thoughts. He felt like he was seven again, a stuttering pathetic idiot who couldn’t say something as simple as a thanks. 

Y/n knew that they were done for now, she had exhausted him so she was finally ready to give him that space that he desperately needed. She slowly got up and slipped the bag of ice out of his hand and walked towards the door. Carmen didn’t look at her as she left but as soon as the door closed, he sank to the floor and sat there for a very long time. 

He finally leaves the office to help with the clean up and is greeted by the crew. Y/n was at the very end scrubbing her countertop which was covered in glitter. As he walks past the crew to survey the damage to the front, he gets a pair of gemstone covered stringy underwear swung towards his face. 

“This is not respect.” Ebra continues to wave the underwear at Carmen’s face.

“No, chef. That is not respect.”

Carmen walked to the front and felt another weight lifted off his shoulder to see that the majority of the mess had been cleaned up. It felt like he was finally able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. His chest felt a bit lighter and he knew it was thanks to the people around him. 

He walked to the kitchen and started slicing some onions, he would be in charge of family dinner. As he was making the sauce, he couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to hear or see y/n, not that she wasn’t in the restaurant but it was like she was doing her very best not to be noticed. She was quietly peeling garlic and even though Carmen hadn’t responded to her, he could tell that they would be alright. He just knew in his bones that they would come back together, he was going to make sure of it. 

As he opened the tomato can and dumped it in, he noticed a bit of green. Mold? Killing the heat, he swiped the sauce away and picked it up to remove the plastic to reveal a wad of money.

Y/n heard Carmen yell for Richie but she didn’t think much of it before she started hearing, “Shit…Fuck..”

A few minutes later the whole crew were opening cans of tomato sauce to dig out the money that was hidden within. Once all the money was out, Richie cleaned it up and sorted it, the crew cleaned up the sauce and Carmen finished up the pasta. 

They sat down for dinner, but y/n had no appetite. However, she couldn't afford to leave her plate unfinished without drawing attention. She discreetly observed Carmen, piece by piece, just to make sure that he was okay, actually more than okay. His hands were relaxed, she took a bite. His shoulders were at ease, another bite. His jaw was unclenched, yet another bite. And finally, the most crucial part, she stole a fleeting glance into his eyes. As she raised her head slightly to check, to her surprise, their eyes met. Against her instincts, y/n held his gaze. It left her breathless. For the first time, y/n saw a serenity in Carmen's eyes that she had never witnessed before. 

With this newfound contentment, it became evident that Carmen had discovered a new version of stability. If maintaining their current relationship, or lack thereof, could grant him such ease and relaxation, y/n was willing to patiently wait for him to embrace a future together, even if it meant waiting for years or even decades. She didn’t want him to relish in the calm but expect it, expect that life was also fun and full of love. Her wish was for him to experience a life of unwavering stability, so that even if unexpected challenges arose as he always anticipated, he would know he was not alone and that he would always prevail. 

Y/n was proud of him, which is a strange thing to say considering the fact that he was a tax paying adult, but she couldn’t help but give him a small smile that said I see you and I’m so fucking in love with you. 

Carmen wasn’t a poet by any means but he finally understood why people write poems about other people. A picture of y/n would have captured her beauty but a poem would have explained it. It was just a smile and he didn’t know why but it was burned into his memory. Y/n looked away to ask Sydney something but if Carmen closed his eyes she was still smiling at him. Y/n had given him many smiles but he knew at this very moment that he couldn’t last another day without her being his. It wasn’t just a smile, it was the weight behind it, the pressure that it put on his chest when she looked away from him, the gleaming aura that wouldn’t let him look away…

It was everything, it was his everything, you were his everything.

Dinner concluded, everything was cleaned up, and Carmen was no longer in his fantasy land where y/n was being lit by the sunlight or party lights and making him yearn, he had never yearned before. Carmen assumed that seeing her in the shitty kitchen lighting and in her messy apron would bring him back to reality but he was sorely mistaken. The pinnacle of his admiration wasn't confined to the previous night or that particular meal; it persisted, unyielding. It didn’t die down when she spilled a bit of oil on the counter, or when she flipped of Richie for god knows what, or when she sampled Sydney's experimental dish and tactfully suggested it needed something more, or when she stepped over to the side to redo her hair, or when she shook her foot because her legs were aching. He could never get tired of her. He could watch her stirring for days on end, each rotation captivating him anew. He could witness her redoing her hair for centuries, and boredom would remain a foreign concept. He could watch her smiling till the sun exploded billions of years in the future, and still, an insatiable craving for more would persist within him.

Time flew by and before she knew it the clock struck 10:30pm and y/n looked up from her stovetop and realized that she was the only person left in the kitchen. It was a bit strange to be alone in the kitchen without Carmen, it felt like a regular room. It lacked the mystic that Carmen brought into any room. She wandered into Carmen’s office but it was empty. The front was empty as well and y/n was getting a bit worried. She grabbed her cardigan from her locker, turned on her phone flashlight and just went to the back of the restaurant and sure enough she found Carmen lighting a cigarette. The phone light was the only source of light other than a very dim street light at the very end of the block, and the small fire lit on the end of the cigarette. She saw that he was surrounded by quite a few cigarettes, five plus the one he was smoking now. 

Carmen looked like a deer caught in headlights. Y/n leaned on the wall so she could see what was compelling him to stay here for what must have been an hour but it was just a brick wall. Carmen shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. 

She waved her hand, “I’ve got a sweater and it's not that cold today.” She was getting deja vu. 

“The bricks are rough.” 

Y/n leaned forward to avoid scraping her favorite cardigan but he took this as an opportunity to stand in front of her and slip the jacket through her arms. He straightened the jacket near the neck line. His hand glided down the open panels. Although he didn't physically touch her, she could sense his warmth emanating through the narrow gap. 

Y/n said she could wait but what she wouldn’t give for him to grab the collar and kiss her. His lips were wet from licking them and she didn’t notice that he was staring at her lips too. 

Carmen snubbed his cigarette on the wall near y/n’s waist, and then dropped the cigarette but leaving his hand still there. “Y/n.”

A soft hum escaped her barely parted lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. It was as if she had entered a trance while staring at his lips, and even when he attempted to snap her out of it, she effortlessly slipped back into another spellbound state, captivated by the depths of his eyes.

“I have to kiss you.” 

He searched her eyes for a sign of hesitation but y/n wrapped her arms behind his neck and leaned forward. Carmen closed the gap and at that moment he knew that he was never going to be able to get enough of her. He slipped a hand behind her head and another on her hip. He pushed her deeper against the wall and he was having a hard time thinking, his head was spinning and it was making it difficult to imprint this sensation into his memory. It felt like trying to remember an ocean’s wave or a ripple in the sand. 

His lungs were burning and even though he knew that he couldn’t stay conscious for longer, he couldn’t pull himself away. 

After a few moments, y/n withdrew slightly, locking eyes with him, her beautiful gaze penetrating his soul. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, he instinctively leaned in, their foreheads touching. The kiss left him breathless, yet he yearned to prolong the contact, craving more of her touch.

Their breath mixed with each other before y/n tightened her grip around him and leaned forward to kiss him one more time, this time with a deliberate slowness that amplified the intimacy between them. He made a conscious effort to imprint the sensations in his memory, but they tantalizingly lingered before elusively slipping away, beckoning him to kiss her once more for a more vivid recollection. It felt new even after the first, second, third, and fourth kiss, as if each one unveiled a new layer of their connection. Carmen could die here and people would be able to honestly say that he died a happy man. He smirked against her lips, unable to help himself.

 They pulled away for one last time before Carmen slid his hands down her body and eventually they had lost contact. 

Y/n grabbed his hand and led him back to the restaurant and in the bright lights, y/n looked down at their interlocked hands trying to finally remember the sensation that she had missed a few days prior but was pulled out of it when she noticed that his hands were covered in cuts and scrapes. 

“What the hell happened to your hand?” Carmen's head felt like it was swimming.

He mumbled out a soft, “I think it was the bricks,” and then added, “I told you they were rough.”

“You should have moved them as soon as they started to hurt.” Y/n grabbed for the first aid kit so she could tend to his wounds. 

Carmen didn’t care that his hand was scraped up because he didn’t want any part of y/n digging into the rough brick, and a scuffed hand was a small price to pay.

“Better me than you.”

“You’re literally so annoying, I can't even look at you right now. Take me home, Berzatto.” Y/n humorously rolled her eyes and finished wrapping him up. 

And with that, Carmen finally found himself standing on solid ground, a place of stability and certainty. In the embrace of y/n's love, he discovered a resolute foundation upon which he could build a future with her. He no longer felt adrift, but rather firmly anchored in a love that provided solace.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

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

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fic #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Cooking Up Speculations

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: With y/n rushing around to doll herself up for an event, it's only a matter of time before things get out of hand.

Word Count: 6.7k

Notes: I have never written something like this before, and I thought I would give it a shot. I haven't checked the grammar, but if Google Docs missed anything, that's none of my business.

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

__

The prep work was close to done and for once in The Bear’s short existence it was not a screaming disastrous mess. Everyone was on track and prepared, the sauces were sitting in the fridge, the cakes were waiting to be sliced, the rolls were warm and ready to be cut open and it was all thanks to (y/n) coming in extra early this morning. She had started the prep work for most of the chefs that had yet to arrive in the effort of softening the blow. She would be abandoning them for the dinner rush on what was predicted to be a very busy day.

What sport was being played? Who is playing? And who won were all unknown to y/n but all she knew was that the restaurant was going to be filled with rowdy and obnoxiously drunk men who were going to make everyone’s life miserable and she was going to get a “get out of jail free card”. She felt a small pang of guilt for basically leaving them for dead but sacrifices had to be made and if she could cover anyone’s shift with little to no notice she was allowed one day to herself.

The restaurant was expecting the dinner rush to crawl in at about 6:30 pm which left y/n about an hour and a half to get ready. Y/n was finishing up cutting up some garnishes so that everything would be perfect. The sounds of a spoon slapping skin was approaching and y/n knew that she needed to state her case convincingly so she could leave early. Fighting the urge to not bring anything up, work through her shift and miss her event was deviously tempting but with a deep inhale she put the knife down and turned on the balls of her feet.

Her (e/c) eyes meet his and before she could choke out a lame excuse as to why she was blocking him she spit out, “I was wondering if I could have a word with you.”

Carmen looked expectantly, he thought she was going to ask him to taste test the braised beef she had just finished prepping, or ask an obscure question about the food science between ingredients. Y/n had once asked if he found it annoying during one of their late night clean up sessions and he said it was a nice change of pace and he really didn’t mind. How could he when you were so eager to learn?

Y/n didn’t want to do this out here, people are working and if she was going to beg, which is how she expected the next 5 minutes to go, she didn’t want any witnesses. The damage that would do to her pride would force her to change her name, move to Vegas and make money by selling timeshares to idiot tourists.

She cleared her throat, “Privately, chef”

Although his face didn’t betray anything, y/n knew that she had caught him off guard. After a while of spending most of their time together cleaning the kitchen after hours and talking about every minute detail in their lives, y/n knew that she had raised a few alarm bells in Carmen’s head. If she paid attention she could hear the sounds of a car alarm blaring in the back of his head signifying that he thought something was wrong. He always assumed the worst possible would happen, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He wordlessly guided y/n to his office. The door was closed and it felt like they were transported to a different dimension where there was nothing outside but the vacuum of space, it was just the two of them in this room and if one of them were to leave the outside pressure would make their body implode and smash into the size of a ping pong ball. She really didn’t want any of them to leave.

With a silent inhale, “I have to leave early today.”

Carmen softened the crease in between his eyebrows, “ Yeah sure, take the day off.” The imaginary crisis was averted and the car alarm stopped blaring in Carmen’s head.

Y/n was surprised that he was being so easy today. Y/n had yet to ask for a day off but she had spent last night imagining the worst possible scenarios possible, she would get yelled at, rejected, or worst he would guilt her for leaving them to deal with the upcoming shit storm.

“Honestly, I was expecting a bit more of a fight.” Y/n joked, “I even made this whole pitch to convince you.”

“ I can hear the pitch so that it doesn’t go to waste,” Carmen said with a glint of humour in his eyes.

Carmen was giving her an inch and so she might as well take the whole mile. Knowing she was about to push her luck and Carmen’s patience a bit more she continued.

“I came in at 4am and started everyone’s prep and helped Tina with the sandwiches during lunch, and did all of Syd’s prep because she had that doctor’s appointment. And I think it's cruel and unusual that you wouldn’t give me a day off when all I did today was prove how much of an angel I am. The least I can get is a measly day off…What you're not gonna give me a day off you selfish prick? You see this is what always happens, little guys always get pushed aside by the Big man. Carmen you're supposed to be better than those billionaire pricks who probably hunt their interns for sport. And I think it's so unfair that I grace you and this business with my presence and I don't even get a single day off- ” Carmen let out an exhale from his nose and covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk. The move had almost made y/n fall to her knees, the way his hair was tousled, the way he looked up at her with his sharp blue eyes, the tattoo flexing on his hands that were a calloused and dry from years of washing them nearly a hundred times a day, the veins trailing up from his hands to under his white shirt.

“Okay, I get gist.”

Y/n knew he didn’t ask for an explanation but she wanted to keep him here for just a bit longer.

“I have this thing I have to go to and I live too far away to go home and change so I need your office to get ready. I would get changed and stuff in the bathroom but the lighting is really bad, the outlets don't work, it’s smelly-”

After a quick glance at his watch he realised that he had a few vendors coming by and he needed to get back to the kitchen. “I know, that bathroom is a real shit show. I told Fak to fix it but nothing he fixes lasts for very long. The office is yours.” Carmen rushed out.

“I'm going to be here till 12 so if there is anything you need me to do before I leave just give me a holler.”

Carmen gave a nod of appreciation before his eyes lingered on her face for a second before grabbing a few papers and a clipboard and then opening the door to leave. It was stupid and childish but y/n held her breath wondering if he would be crushed to the size of a ping pong ball as soon as he left but when she heard him yelling at Richie she knew that the “alone in space” fantasy had died.

Y/n slipped out and went to her locker where she pulled out a dress, makeup and a straightening iron. She had an hour and a chance to make herself look like she just came out of a Mattel box and it was a daunting task for someone who didn’t have much experience dressing up.

Makeup was a bit of a disaster at first because she didn’t want to ruin any of Carmy’s papers but after she accidentally dabbed a bit of concealer on a light bill she just stopped giving a fuck and finished up. The hair was tricky, the outlet was near the ground and she had to crouch to straighten her hair.

The last and most daunting task was the dress because y/n was about to strip in her bosses office and although she had dreams about something this amazing, the reality was much less sexy. In a small burst of paranoia she rolled the chair over to the door so no one would walk in by accident and quickly changed. In the back of her mind all she was thinking about was the small glimmer of hope that Carmy would be the one to walk in. In reality, it would be Rich or Fak because boundaries were a foreign concept to the both of them.

And with 10 minutes to spare, y/n was done. She sprayed some perfume and hyped herself up to leave. She knew she would get teased so she wanted a smooth exit, an Irish goodbye would be perfect, fingers crossed hoping that Richie was out back so she would get out before he made these stupid jokes.

After a few deep breaths, y/n picked up her things and opened the door. The coast was clear and she made a beeline to the lockers to grab her purse, change her shoes and go. She would leave most of her stuff, because if you want to survive you have to be light, like those firefighters that ditch their equipment so that they don't get burned alive. Everyone looked busy and with a quick once over, y/n tried to walk through the kitchen. And although women and heels have had centuries of history, the heels still managed to betray her at the very end. The long sound of heel on tile brought Syd’s head up. Y/n eyes widened as she shook her head as to signal to Syd to drop it but Syd let out a playful gasp and Y/n knew that the jig was up.

“You look amazing.”

And a sea of eyes were looking at y/n.

“You get all dressed up for me?” Syd joked and for a split second y/n wondered if she could make a run for it before she realised that she would fall and crack her head open.

“Who else?” Y/n joked back hoping to get out before she was held captive by their questions.

“You look so nice, where are you headed?” Tina said as she came closer and dragged you closer to everyone.

“Umm- I was actually going to-”

“You know who you look like?” One of those women who seduces James Bond at a casino.” Sweeps commented unhelpfully. A hum of agreement was shared among the crew. Y/n’s face grew warm.

“So where are you going?”

“A date, women don't dress like that if it's not for a date” Ebra chimed in.

Another gasp, “ IS it a date, is he handsome?” Sydney probed.

“Actually, I'm not- '' Y/n tried to finish before she was interrupted.

“What type of car does he drive?”

“We'll see when he picks her up. When is he picking you up?”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU CLOWN JABBERING ABOUT '' Richie burst through the door to see what all the commotion was about and he looked like he was in utter disbelief.

“I didn’t know that it was possible for you could look like that”

Y/n was slightly offended.

“You normally look like death.” Richie laughed. Scratch that y/n was very offended.

“I could look like this everyday if I wasn’t in front of a stove, you clown.”

Ignoring her, Richie asked the room,“ Where is she headed?”

“A date”, Sweeps added.

“I'm going to my friends-” y/n tried to interject.

“A date huh, our little y/n is all grown up now. Soon we’ll be sending her off to college.” Wiping a fake tear and leaning on Tina for mock support, “They leave the nest so soon, it was like it was just yesterday when I saw her struggling to walk.”

“It WAS yesterday and I was only struggling because I hit my knee on the shelfs in the walk-in.”

“Who’s the guy?” Richie asked

“ Your dad.” Y/n knew it was childish and unoriginal but she was too flustered to be a bit more creative.

Richie ignores her and continues, “You know what you look like? You look like one of those girls who kills Johns”

“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?”

“A classy one for like the president and shit.”

“or an ambassador,” Ebra added.

“or a CEO,” Richie continued.

Y/n knew it was going to be tough but she wanted to get out before she was stuck forever.

“I have to go now, I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow. Richie you suck major ass. And just so you know, i'm not going on a-”

Carmen walked in with a clipboard and a pen not even sparing a glance up.

“Ok, I just got the beef delivered so we should have enough for Ebra till the end of the week.”

“Heard, chef”

“And Marcus”, who watched the whole thing and didn’t offer any help to y/n except the occasional chuckle.

“I have your eggs”

“Heard, chef”

Although no one said it, everyone was waiting for the moment that Carmen looked up and saw y/n. The dishwashers who never really left their stations shut off the water and were subtly watching this mess unfold.

It was the longest that y/n had seen Richie quiet. He just stared at Carmen, while hiding his mocking smile under the guise of rubbing his stubble.

“I know we are low on onions but the guy is coming in a bit so sit tight”

“Heard”

Maybe, y/n thought, she would be able to walk past Carmen unnoticed if she walked on the balls of her feet so that the heels made less noise. Y/n took a step forward to hightail it out of here so she could make it in time and even though the heel was a lot quieter then last time, the unusual silence in the kitchen made it impossible to disguise the sound.

The sound of heels on tiles brought Carmen back to reality.

He looked up and y/n didn’t know if she imagined it but she thought she saw him raise his eyebrows. And if she was really going to feed into her delusions, she would say that his eyes widened and his pupils dilated too.

All that came crashing down thought, because after a beat of silence barring the sounds of sizzling and bubbling. Carmen questioned, “I thought you would have left by now chef.”

“I got held back but I really do need to leave now. I'm going to miss you guys and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” And with a quick wave y/n brushed shoulders with Carmen as she left. The smell of her perfume lingered and Carmen felt a bit dizzy.

Carmen wanted to ask where y/n was going but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, not when the two of you have already gotten so close. Richie had different plans, “Hey cousin guess where y/n going?”

“I don’t know cousin, that isn’t really any of our buis-”

“She is going on a date”

“A hot one” Syd chirped

“With a nice car” Ebra added

Richie’s comment felt like a ton falling on his head. Now he felt a different type of dizziness. He quickly composed himself

“Chefs, we have a dinner rush coming, now is not the time.” Carmen said with a bit of an edge.

Richie led Carmen to the front under the guise of asking a question about the tablet. The crew looked around and shared a knowing snicker.

“I can't believe that you let her go like that?” Richie added. “Right now she is in some guy's car about to get wined and dined to high heaven while you wait here with your cock in your hand like some cuck.”

“ Cuck?” Carmen said with venom, it's like he was giving Richie a chance to take it back before he killed him.

“I would be fucken pissed. I wouldn’t let someone take my girl out like that, all dressed up for someone who isn't me”

For a second Carmen imagined you sitting across from your rich new date with the nice car and the handsome face and felt like throwing up. He was angry, he was angry with this “date”, he was angry at Richie for saying all that stupid shit to get a reaction, and embarrassingly enough he was angry at y/n. He had no right to be but he just couldn’t help it.

“Richie if you don’t knock it off, I’m going to send you flying out the fucking window”

“Yes, chef.” Richie mockingly replied.

And with a swift turn Carmen returned to the kitchen with a different temperament then he had 10 minutes ago.

The dinner rush was a nightmare, but the kitchen was hell. There wasn’t a single thing that didn’t set Carmen off. He wasn’t screaming like he was with the to-go orders but he was on edge. They could feel it when they had to remake dishes because he didn’t like them, or when they had to listen to him criticise innocuous things after housekeeping. When that dinner rush ended, the crew looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there. The second the restaurant closed, chefs cleaned as fast as they could to get the hell out of there. It was the fastest they had cleaned since the morning rush with the pre-orders.

With a quick goodbye, everyone but Carmen left the restaurant hoping that he would be in a better mood tomorrow.

Carmen did what he did every night, got on his knees and scrubbed the floor with a towel. Carmen knew it was unfair and he knew he had no right to dictate what you did. You weren’t his and he waited too long. A part of him understood where y/n was coming from, during one of their late night conversations he had mentioned that he had never had a girlfriend and he didn’t really have the time. This conversation took place some time after the two had gotten close but before he realised that he might have liked her for quite some time. Things were different now and Carmen wanted more.

He tried his best to be understanding but the thought of y/n clinging onto someone else’s arm and laughing at their stupid unfunny joke, made him livid. What if they kiss? Or what if they sleep together?” That thought made him stop scrubbing and sit on the balls of his feet and throw the wet towel with an unnecessary amount of force to another corner of the kitchen. He couldn’t do this today, he couldn’t be here. He got up and cleaned up the towel and bucket of dirty soap water and walked home.

He ended his night with a nightcap hoping that he would fall asleep easily but it didn’t work. He spent a good amount of time staring at y/n contact hovering over the call button before flaking out because it was 2 in the morning and he had to get to work at 6:30. Maybe Richie was right and he was a coward but before he could think too long, sleep had overcome him.

The restaurant was a bit of a walk away from Carmen’s house but he never minded it before, it felt like a good buffer between “Home Carmen” and “Work Carmen”. Today was different, he couldn't not think about y/n and that annoying date of her’s so for the first time in his time in Chicago he listened to music on his way to work. The music was so loud that it was just obnoxious noise and allowed him to stop worrying for a few moments. Carmen couldn’t think about y/n without feeling a bit… he didn’t know how he felt he just knew it was not a great feeling.

Being the first one in the restaurant was not new to him but it felt strange that after 30 minutes he was still the only one there, normally y/n would be there by now asking Carmen about a baking show they both happened to catch the night before, or ask what he ate for dinner last night and breakfast this morning. Carmen would always fight the urge to lie and say that he cooked something magnificent when in reality he probably ate a bag of chips and drank some flat soda. One of the things that these AA meetings emphasised was honesty, to both himself and others, and even if it was embarrassing he told you the truth. You never really judged him because you did the same thing.

After sorting through fuck ton of bills, a few of which had brown power on them and one of them had a (s/c) smudge on the corner he heard a buzz in his pocket. He looked at it hoping it was you saying that you'll be there any second.

(Y/N): I'm so sorry to do this to you but I'm going to be a bit late today, not super late but like an hour. I have to grab my extra apron from my place and I'm a bit far from there. I'll be there by 8 the latest. Again, super sorry :(

Carmen read the text a few times to check if he read that right, you were going to be late because you weren't home and slept somewhere else and needed a change of clothes. Which translated to, you were with someone else, which means you might have done something with someone else. He just stared at the text for a few more seconds before he heard the sound of the front door opening, Carmen didn’t have to look to know it was Sydney. He snapped out of it and sent back an “ok”, lowercase just to be a bit petty. Was it immature? Yes. Did he regret it? Not really.

Y/n spent the rest of her food budget for the week yesterday in a drunken haze with an uber from one side of Chicago to the other. The bachelorette party was a success and y/n was glad that her friend had a good time at the fancy restaurant that she picked out. Y/n was trying to be responsible and limit herself to a few drinks but it's hard to say no to the bride to be and before she knew it she had to leave her car at the restaurant because they took her keys and y/n and her friends crammed into an uber headed towards one of the bridesmaids houses.

Y/n woke up in a hurry, she grabbed a random shirt and joggers from her friends closet because all she had was that dress, which now had wine spilled on it. She quickly gathered her things and texted the group chat that she had to leave early so she could get to work. They would read it when they woke up. Not repeating yesterday’s mistakes she took the train to the restaurant, got her keys back and drove at illegal speeds to get to her place where she took a shower, changed back into her friends clothes because she was way behind on laundry. She took one last look in the mirror before grabbing the apron and sprinting out the door to drive to work. She got there at 7:30am and she felt like death. The hangover was finally catching up to her, and she poured herself some water from the dispenser out front. She knew everyone was in the kitchen by now. She gave herself a few more seconds of quiet before she opened the door to the kitchen and gave a quick hello and rushed towards the lockers to put her stuff in and change into her non-slip shoes and apron.

Richie raised his eyebrows. This was too good, it was too easy, all he needed was for Carmy to get out of that depressing office of his to bear witness to this.

Richie was the first to ask, “New shirt? Never seen it before? ”

“Good Morning to you Richie, if you need to know I borrowed it from my friend.”

Carmen wanted to rush out as soon as he heard your voice but he refrained. He promised himself that he would give you a bit of space to respect you and your date/boyfriend. That didn’t stop him from listening through the door.

“Some friend you got there, real close.” Richie jokes

y/n didn’t know what he was talking about, “Friends tend to be close, Richie. You would know that if you had any.” Y/n barked back.

“How was it?” Syd asked as she sliced what looked like gallons of onions.

Y/n knew that last night was probably a good night but she was so drunk then and so hungover now that it all made her a bit nauseous to think about.

“Honestly, I don't remember much but I do know it was fun.”

“Hungover?” Tina asked.

“Very, my whole body feels like i was run over by a semi”

Marcus handed y/n a gatorade before going back to work with the cakes.

“You come back to us in new clothes, showered, late, hungover, and sore. You must have one hell of a night!” Richie said louder than necessary just so that Carmen would hear, he had a feeling that Carmy was eavesdropping.

“Im telling you guys i didn’t actually go on a-”

Carmen didn’t want to hear anything after Richie spoke because he felt like he was going to hear something he didn’t want to know. He picked up a clip board, slammed the door open and began walking around.

“Chef.” Carmen said mechanically

“Chef.” Y/n replied back fully expecting this, she left early, came late and was now distracting everyone.

Y/n quickly busied herself with peeling garlic and the rest day fell back to its usual rhythm. The prep finished right before the restaurant opened and they worked on filling to-go orders along with the regular lunch and dinner orders. One thing was noticeably different to y/n, Carmen hadn’t looked or approached her once. Normally he would walk by all the chefs and ask how they were doing, checking the quality, etc but the second he got to y/n who was at the far end of the kitchen he circled back. He made comments to everyone’s dish and he had yet to even get within a 3 feet radius on y/n.

Y/n could feel that something was off and to test it, after the dinner rush she finished making one of the test items that Sydney and Carmen had wanted to try out and after a small taste she knew she killed it.

Y/n walked up to Carmen with the dish and set it down. “Can you taste it and tell me what you think?” Carmen didn’t look up, he just grabbed a fork, took a bite and said a quick “It's fine, chef”.

Y/n then looked the dish over to sydney and asked her to try it.

“It added a bit of chocolate because I read somewhere that Japanese people put chocolate in their curry”

“Chocolate huh?” Sydney grabbed a small notebook and made a note.

“It’s okay?” y/n asked.

“It's fire, chef. Great work”

In y/n mind that confirmed that something was wrong with Carmen. Y/n waited till the restaurant closed and everyone left to bring it up. It was just Carmen and y/n alone in the restaurant and y/n could feel there was something in the air.

“You don't have to stay late, you should leave early” Carmon proposed while not looking at her.

That was strange because Carmen never asked her to leave early. She walked up to Carmen who was sweeping the floor and ripped off the bandaid.

“Thanks for the offer but I want to stay with you for a bit longer.” Carmen’s grip on the broom toughened till his knuckles turned white. It was a risky thing to say and after a beat of silence y/n took the coward’s way out by diverting and changing subjects.

“I'm sorry I was so late today Carmen, are we good?”

“We're good.”

Another awkward silence.

“ I don’t think we're good, you seem, I don't know, pissed?”

“I'm good, you're good, we’re good” Carmen said by turning his attention to a very interesting onion skin on the floor.

“You didn’t say anything about the dish I made, or that I was late. Someone told me that you seemed off yesterday.”

“Was this someone named Sydney?”

“Cannot confirm or deny, Carmy”

Carmy finished sweeping and took a few steps back.

“There it is again! You keep walking away from me and not looking me in the eye.”

Carmen didn’t know that he was being obvious, he thought he was subtle because Richie would have brought it up if he wasn’t. Carmen forced himself to look up at y/n and felt like the wind was knocked right off his lungs, he really hadn’t seen her at all today and he missed her.

“You can tell me what's happening so that I can help or at the very least listen to what's wrong.” y/n offered

Carmen bent down, and started to scrub in silence. He looked like he was piecing something together and y/n didn’t want to intrude so she continued to scrub assuming the conversation was over and that they were going to spend the rest of their lives in this uncomfortable silence. A few minutes pass and then a long sigh is heard from the other end of the kitchen. Carmen looked up.

“I’ve been a bit..” Carmen started. Y/n wanted him to finish his thought before she called him a dick.

“It's been a weird day.. I know it shouldn’t but I can't help but ask..”

A pregnant pause passed.

“How was..” y/n leaned in so she could hear.

“How was your “thing” yesterday?” He spit out.

Y/n looked a bit confused, “Umm it was fine, I mean we were at a restaurant so it wasn’t anything to crazy”

“Why were you so late today?”

The other shoe dropped, “ I knew you were pissed that I was late.” With an exhale she continued “We went to dinner and then got shit faced drunk and ubered over to a friends house. I had to go by that restaurant in the morning to pick up my keys and drive to my place so I could take a shower and not smell like a walking liquor store.”

“How was he?” Carmen choked out after a few more beats of silence.

“How was who?”

“Your umm…”

“Mmm” Carmen continued.

Y/n waited but it felt like he was testing her patience,

“Your date?” Carmen finally conceded while swinging his head down.

“What date? I went to a bachelorette party with a few of my girlfriends.”

Carmen’s head shot up, “ I thought-”

“The people in here are so nosy, I kept telling them that it wasn't a date and they wouldn’t bother to listen.”

Carmen’s shoulders relaxed and he felt like he could finally look at you without feeling guilty that he was looking at another guy’s girl.

“What’s been on your mind, Carm?” Y/n probed and Carmen's shoulders tensed up again.

Y/n could feel the atmosphere change and she wanted to capitalise on it while she still could, she could trick herself into thinking that Carmy was jealous of some imaginary guy that he thought she went on a date on, when he probably was just diverting attention to avoid talking about his own problems.

More silence.

More scrubbing.

Carmen looked up with a look of determination, y/n assumed that he had finally hyped himself to tell her what has been bugging him. Although the tension was killing her she did want this moment to last for a bit longer. In this moment she could convince herself that Carmen was troubled because of her and not because work was drowning him or that he is a mess because his brother left him this shithole and left.

She wanted him to have a problem with an easy solution. If he liked her, the easy solution was that she would kiss him and tell him how much she longed for him. He would then confess how much he yearned for her and she would give all of herself to him and he would finally have a win in his life, something that wasn’t tainted by his love/hate relationship with cooking, his family, his brother. Something that he would have all to himself, her love.

Just for a few moments she repeated, that's how long she had till the dream died. This wasn’t the first time something similar had happened. They would stay late and in the comfortable beats of silence Carmen would look up with such a look of determination and y/n heart would flutter hoping for those three special words but she would get something completely different but still equally important, information about a very private part of his life whether it be the AA meetings, or the guilt he felt for resenting his brother. And everytime y/n’s heart would break a bit and then mend itself knowing that even if she couldn't have him like she wanted to, she would still be important to him.

That type of relationship, friendship, used to be enough, but not anymore. With his plans to change The Bear he was getting further and further away from her. It used to feel like it was the two of them but y/n was starting to wonder if she was going to be left behind. If she would stay friends for a while until the longing grew too strong and y/n would leave The Bear. Even if Carmen misses her for a while, y/n knew he would bounce back like he always did and she would slowly be replaced by Sydney or whoever. The thought that in a few years he will have learned to cope with his grief and trauma and move on from the past, move on from y/n, and maybe settle down with someone else made y/n feel like throwing up.

This time y/n didn’t fall for Carmen's “look”, she had a neutral face and was ready to hear what Carmen's issues were. She wouldn’t assume that she was going to get a confession. This time she will help him with his problems and move on from this one-sided crush. Maybe she WILL go on a few dates to forget about him.

“Carmen, do you want to talk about it?We don’t have to do anything you don't want to.”

Determination morphed into apprehension.

“I am feeling something, it is n-n-not…” He exhaled through his nose.

”It's selfish y/n. I'm being selfish. You have every right to do whatever you want but I..”

Y/n tried to look as comforting as possible trying her best to hide any confusion, if Carmen was any other person she would ask if he was sober right now because he was a total mess.

“I’ve never done this before, and I-” and he ran his palm through his hair.

Y/n refrained from thinking about how amazing he looked under the fluorescent lights with his tousled hair and apprehensive gaze. He could bring up his nightmares or sleepwalking, and she would feel so guilty for perving over his eyes.

“You looked very nice in that dress yesterday.” Y/n felt like a lump was forming in her throat. He was going to say something like this and think it's an off handed comment but she would go to the bathroom and cry because she knew nothing would come from it. Y/n thought it was a bit cruel.

“You looked so beautiful yesterday it was hard for me to look at you without making a fucking idiot out of myself. I wanted to run over to you and tell you that as soon as you left but Richie told me you're going on a date and it was…”

Carmen continued, “You are special and you deserve someone who isn’t…me. And you're free to do whatever and if this is completely …wrong…bad…i don't know, just stop me and we will never talk about this ever again…”

He searched y/n’s eyes looking for a sliver of doubt or disgust but he was met with glassy eyes and a look that longed for him to continue.

“When I thought you were going on that date I knew that I couldn’t not have you and that made me feel….” A sigh reverberated through the kitchen.

“ I like you…romantically.” Carmen uttered.

Y/n didn’t say or do anything for a moment, she spent a few moments wondering if she was hallucinating or dreaming. And in a moment of pure adrenaline, she scooted over to Carmen who was still on the floor before cupping his face in her hands and whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

The kiss wasn't electrifying; it felt like a wave of warmth seeped into every corner of their beings. It felt like dipping your hand in warm water after shovelling the show, the type of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. Y/n fingers get lost in his wavy hair and his hands hesitate, not knowing where they should go before landing one on her hip and the other on the back of her neck to pull her closer. Y/n heart was beating so hard she wondered stupidly if he could hear it, Carmen was wondering something similar. They slowly pulled away for air before getting a good look at each other, both their lips were swollen and red and their eyes were dazed.

Y/n knew he was a flighty person, one wrong move and he would go running for the hills so she refrained from asking if they were dating now, this could have just been a one time thing and she didn’t want to ruin it. Thankfully Carmen held her hand and stroked it with her thumb before swinging his head down and looking up at her.

“I want to be with you y/n”

“I like you too, Carmen, for a very long time.” And their lips meet once again.

Y/n resisted the urge to say that she only bought the dress in the hopes that he would take it off of her, that was a story for another time.

“Let's get you home” Carmen mumbled into her lips, the vibrations and the friction making her lips burn in sensitivity.

Carmen helped y/n get up before they both packed up their stuff and headed out the door. Both hiding the smile of triumph from each other, not really knowing how much the other loves them yet, and only time would remedy that.

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