#when in doubt its carmen

[sleepyminty]

Whenever sth happen in the City

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Walk The Line.

Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.

The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.

“A… party?”

“Does it say party, Carmen?”

“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”

You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.

“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”

You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.

“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”

“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.

You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.

“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”

“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”

“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”

You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.

“You really wanna go?”

“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”

“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”

“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”

“I don’t fuck recipes up.”

“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”

“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.

You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.

“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.

He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.

“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”

“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”

He huffs, but relents.

“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.

Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.

Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.

The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.

You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.

“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”

“Pat your head.”

“Real subtle.”

“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”

“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”

“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”

It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.

It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.

“Excuse me, sweetheart?”

You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”

You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.

“Thank you so much!”

You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.

“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”

You almost choke on your drink.

“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”

“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”

You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.

“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”

She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.

“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”

Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.

“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”

She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.

“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”

You smile, shaking your head.

“Is he here with you?”

“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”

“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”

“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”

You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.

“You know where I am, if you need me.”

She nods, standing up carefully.

“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”

You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.

He holds out his hand to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Daniel.”

You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

Now he shakes his head.

“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”

“Ah. What do you do?”

“I’m a model.”

Of course he is.

“What do you do?”

As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.

Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.

“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”

You laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”

“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”

“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.

You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.

“Hi, Carmen.”

You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.

“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.

“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”

“Haven’t we all.”

“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”

“Would you have noticed if I did?”

You spin around to face him properly now.

“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”

He huffs.

“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”

“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.

“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”

He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.

The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.

You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.

He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.

“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.

“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”

Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.

“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”

“Well then you better come quickly.”

He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.

“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”

It all clicks for you suddenly.

“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”

“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”

You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.

“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”

“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”

“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.

“Carm.”

“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”

You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.

“Say it.”

“Hmm?”

You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.

“Say. It.”

He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.

“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”

“So close, honey. Try again.”

You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.

“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”

“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”

With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.

“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”

“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”

You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.

You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.

“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”

You pull back, looking at him carefully.

“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”

You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.

“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”

He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.

“Yes, I did.”

“Do we have any left?”

“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”

“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”

“Will you make two extras?”

He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.

“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”

He smiles at you, all soft and melted.

“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”

You take hold of his hand, placing it there.

“Only sometimes.”

He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”

“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.

Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.

[savingcrxws]

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes. 

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant. 

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table. 

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.” 

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch. 

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?” 

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call. 

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption. 

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you. 

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut. 

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation. 

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man. 

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere. 

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid. 

Absolutely not, apparently. 

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath. 

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge. 

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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[buggybambi]

carmen being extremely overprotective over the new waitress that's working at the bear (he has obvious feelings but refuses to acknowledge it)

it gets to the point when she has a date, carmen's all grumpy n stuff, trying to intimidate her date

she pulls carm to the side, because, what the hell was that? and then carm starts rambling about how they're not good enough for her before she just cuts him off with a kiss

-🪷

OH MY GOSH? literally he is, “when in doubt intimidate the competition”

um no but you are SO right about this my lovely anon! he’d be protective of all of the bear staff but when it comes to her? its an unspoken rule that no one is allowed to yell at her or else they deal with angry carmy.

he’s kinda taken aback when a man enters the bear during closing duties and sees you greet him with a hug and a smile. “who the fuck is that?” he asks sydney, who looks up from wiping down the counters. “oh that’s uh, colin? they met on a dating app.”

you see carmen doing his usual grumpy stance as he asks colin these questions. you walk over, smiling and excusing you and carmy away from your date (poor guy has a confused look on his face). you pull carm into the back.

and so carmy makes his way out of the kitchen! and he begins grilling poor colin when you step into the back to grab your belongings. “where are you from”, “how did you meet”, “are you gonna protect her?”

“what the hell was that?!”

“look, i don’t get good vibes from the guy, alright? you deserve someone who shows up with at least flowers and in a better attire then a fucking polo shirt. i’m sorry but he-”and that’s when magic sparks. against all his odds, you kiss him. your lips are soft against his, his hands hesitantly meeting your waist like he’s afraid to touch you.

you pull away, your eyes finally meeting his. it’s silent before you speak again. “is that your over the top way of telling me you’re in love with me?” you ask, your voice hushed.

“yeah.” he replies.

“okay.” you nod, before kissing him again.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Chapter six makes it's appearance. I'm once again so thankful for all the love.

warnings: past trauma, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of sexual interactions, therapy.

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Nothing cut through the numbness. It felt like grief all over again. Just this hit Carmy in a completely different way because no one else was feeling what he was feeling. No one else understood. No one else cared. The apartment that beforehand was a safe sanctuary for him. A place where Carmy could finally breathe. Where he could strip away all pretense of composure. Where he was free to crumble. Where you always were. Reaching for him. Holding him. Hugging him. Soothing him. Now it felt like a cage. Like a cruel - in your face. Constantly shouting at Carmen, you fucked it, you fucked it, you fucked it this time.

No matter where Carmen turned, he saw you. The bedroom was still somewhat full of your clothes. There were pieces of your you all around, so the morning when Carmy found that you had left one of your favorite rings behind, one that he had watched you look at for weeks, one that he had bought for you out of one of his first bigger pays, he had slipped it onto his chain. Turning it between his fingers when anxiety struck. Telling himself that you didn't leave it because you hated him; you left it because you were in a rush, and now, once in a while, you remembered it and didn't feel complete.

Carmy had sat in the living room almost every evening, flipping through your books and the old portfolios. Trying to grasp that sense of you. Keep it locked in the apartment; don't let it fade away. Even leaving some books that you usually read open before he dragged himself to the restaurant so that when he returned he would see them like that. Used. And until his brain caught up, a sense of you being there would flood him. A rush of hope would fill him, only to be crushed. Because you weren't there, and the more days went by, the more he doubted you were ever coming home to him.

Were you, by any chance, doing any better? No. Where Carmy struggled with constant glimpses of you, you were crushed by the lack of Carmy around you. While the anger was fresh, it soothed you. That there was no resemblance to him in Copenhagen. That you were miles away. That he didn't know where you went. That you didn't have to fear bumping into him in the street. Until all of that went sour. Until it all left you feeling nothing but alone.

Copenhagen felt as friendless as Chicago, if not more. And you had locked yourself in the restaurant's toilet, sobbing with a palm over your hand. When you realized that it was never about a country or a city. Sure, Chicago wasn't your number-one pick, but it definitely wasn't the worst option. It was not about the apartment or its size. All those things didn't make up a home. Because none of them were meant to last. People moved around constantly. Preferences changed too. It was Carmy who was supposed to be forever. Carmen was your home. No matter the location you were in. Anywhere you went, it would be manageable as long as he was by your side.

After that realization, a second wave of sadness hit. Because now everything in Luca's apartment felt off. Felt so not Carmy-like. It felt wrong being here, hence why you started to barely spend time there. It was too clean. Too put together. You missed your little mess. The mess you made together. Missed the fact that Carmy was storing his denim in the oven, even if you bickered over it. Missed your piles of books or how Carmen looked laying between them. Missed knowing what the nooks and crannies held.

Most nights now, you sneaked out of Luca's embrace. Thankful that you managed to jolt from your sleep without waking him up. Yet feeling guilty that nothing but you was making him so tired. During those nights, the voices in my head barked the loudest. Not good enough. Unlovable. Replaceable.

You hated that even your mind was against you. Altering your memories. Scarring your heart and self-esteem even more deeply. If before you only saw yourself as small. Humiliated over and over again. Yelled till your skin crawled. Spat at and shoved around. Now. Now it was always you walking up the stairs to your apartment. Happy to show off the new project that your professor had approved. Only to open the door to the trail of clothes. Carelessly splattered around the place. Carrying an assent of lustful rush. The dread and denial. Shaky steps as you walked towards the bedroom. Ignoring the obvious. Still childishly trying to convince yourself that the obvious moans were only in your head. But they were not. Because right in the same bed you slept in hours ago, your boyfriend was balls-deep inside a girl you've never seen before. Ezra's face had faded through the years, which your mind used to full advantage. So now, night after night, without even needing to fall asleep, all you saw was Carmen fucking Claire, smiling back at you with a sickly smirk that didn't suit his features. Until you would jolt up, trying to push the image as far away as you could.

"Hi...", Carmen was standing outside the somewhat old building. One hand in the pocket. A hat on his head because he was feeling anxious. Too seen. Too out there. "You don't have to reply", he added shortly after, just as anxiety about not knowing what to say next crept in. "I hope you are safe, amm...", He's been doing this ever since you left. The next morning, he ran out to buy a new phone. Your number was the only thing he cared for. It soothed him in a way. To still somehow have this piece of you. His only chance to reach you. "I'm also sorry, really sorry", he blurted out, brushing his hand over his mouth and feeling the tears pick up slowly. "You call... or write, or anything when you want, yeah?", he said with a voice so small, without a doubt, you'd be able to feel just how lost he was, right? You knew him better than anyone else. "You can call to yell if you want to, just be okay, okay?", Carmy added, taking a sharp breath in, a moment of silence. "I will go now. I'm going to that meeting. You know the one", his voice trailed off, followed by the sound of beeping.

"Here you are. For a second, I thought you fled Copenhagen", you jolted slightly, head immediately turning to the side where the sound came from. The delicate features that Luca carried instantly made you ease up. His hands were full of different plates, and for a split second you wanted to jump up to help, but then you remembered that he was way better at all of this than you would ever be, so you left him to it until he was right by the little table you were seated by.

One thing about Luca's place that you did grow to love was the upper-level balcony. Since his apartment was on the top level, the views were incredible. So full of freedom. Never-ending breeze. You sneaked here often now, even during the night. A blanket in your hand as you cocooned your body in it. Letting the wind carry your thoughts away.

"Is that...", Luca pointed to the sketchbook that rested on the side of the table. Your eyes fell onto the piece of paper as well. Knot instantly tightened in your throat, yet you managed to grog out, "Carmen yeah...".

Luca nodded softly. No big reaction followed suit; no disappointed remarks. In a way, that's why you loved Luca so much. His first reaction was never to judge or put you down and make you feel small. Most times he didn't agree, but he never put himself in a position where he would try to make it seem that his opinion in some way was more important or more right. Luca wanted to understand and help you understand where all of it was coming from.

So you weren't too surprised when he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?". You hesitated at first. A logical part of you was aware that you shouldn't be doing this. Drawing someone who you were still upset with. Who had said loud and proud that another woman was the only good thing from his past. But your body, all the little cells, and the soul itself were too firmly intertwined with Carmy's for you to just walk away without turning back.

"I listened to his voicemails and", you sighed, reaching for the sketchbook before handing it to Luca, "Drew him while doing so". You watched the way his gaze danced over the paper. Falling over every inch of it, following every line. A sudden urge to yank it from Luca's grip arose, but you only held onto the sleeves of your shirt tightly. "When was the last time you drew?", Luca asked, his eyes now meeting yours. "Just now", you stated blankly, and Luca instantly rolled his eyes, letting out a low huff, "Okay, smart-ass, I'm being serious".

And you knew that he was. Painting had been a big part of you for as long as you could imagine. At the age of ten, you had gotten into so much trouble when you painted over all the hallway walls while your parents were away. The end outcome wasn't pretty because no one was happy, and well, you got a rather big punishment, but that was the first time you realized that this was the only way you could breathe. Process the world around you. Deal with all the big emotions. "Over a year ago", you muttered, suddenly unable to hold Luca's gaze. "And how does it feel?", "I can still do it", you shrugged your shoulders quickly. Luca let out a low laugh, "And do it really well. Scary, actually, looks like he's looking straight at me".

Your heart skipped a beat at those words. And maybe that's what you wanted to capture. What you had been missing the most. The depth of Carmy's eye. The light blues dancing in them. The way nothing else mattered when he was looking at you. How you always felt safe under his gaze. How loved and seen they made you feel. You bit down on your lip, shutting your eyes tightly and fighting the tears.

"You didn't have a proper conversation with him", Luca's voice was sweet, calm, and all, but his words rubbed a wound too sore still. Too aching still. "Oh, the conversation was more than proper", your tone was much sharper now. Like a bee ready to sting, like a scorpion. Pushed in an unwanted direction. "With him panicking and you deep in your head? Your and my definitions of proper are different, bunny", Luca huffed. You knew this was coming. You could tell from his body language over the past couple of days. He fussed over you for the time being. But now he was upfront, trying to push you to move, not just sit there and dwell. "Don't do this", you muttered, silently pleading with him to drop this for a bit longer. Because you still didn't know. You didn't have an answer as to how your heart was feeling.

"Right, what's the plan then? You will hide in Copenhagen for the rest of your life?", it was a jab, and it definitely hit the mark perfectly.

"If you don't want me here, just say...", you pushed your chair back quickly, feeling the frustration growing within you. Fight or flight mode activating instantly. "You're deflecting", Luca said softly, and this time his velvety voice made you snap. "Fuck you", you hissed, ripping the drawing out of his hands and backing away instantly. "Bunny", and it's so much more like order now. No longer a gentle caress. Making you stager in your steps. "I have to give you a nudge because we both know...", Luca started, but you quickly cut in.

"Know what? That I'll get back with him, just like with Ezra? That I'll forgive a cheater? Will I get my heart broken, and you'll have to be the one to pick up the broken pieces?", now you were less than a step away from Luca's face, finger jabbing in his chest as the words spilled out of your mouth. You wanted him to fight back, to get mad, but instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his just as the tears spilled over your face.

"Well, I'm still Carmen; I talked about my brother and his addiction and all that, but...", those meetings were exhausting. Truly. Leaving Carmen barely functioning after. But he still went. He listened at first. To everyone. To their stories. Pain. Losses. It didn't drown out his own pain. No, it stayed the same, but he managed to talk about Mikey, but he stopped midway because ripping these wounds open was so painful. Too painful, and he always imagined he wouldn't be alone.

"I always thought that the first time I would come here, I would have my girlfriend...my... my girl, with me", Carmen said, swallowing thickly. "She was there when I got the call. She...", he shook his head, "I don't even remember how those days went. She fed me, she showed me, and she helped my family plan it all. Well, she almost did it all herself because of my family." Flashes of you dipping in and out of the family house filled his mind. Carmen rarely thought of that day. He wanted his mind to destroy whatever it was. His mother screamed. Richie was trying to calm her down. Sugar sobbed while begging Richie to be more gentle, and Carmy just sat there. He remembers how his mom threw the flowers you bought for the grave at him, or maybe at you. But you stepped in, right in front of him. Water and petals hitting your chest. A shiver ran down his back.

"She gave up her life to move here, and I never told her what it meant for me", Carmen quickly tightened his fist at the anxiety. "My family loved Claire... Claire is not my girlfriend", he added quickly, almost in a defensive manner, "I grew up with all the Claire so pretty now; you should be with her; she would be so good for you. I... Had never been good enough for them, and I just...", he stuttered, "When I saw her now, I was like, what if this is the only way to bring my family back? Finally, do something and make them all happy?", Carmy quickly ran a hand over his face. His palms were sweaty. He felt those same tingles running through his body. "But it felt so wrong, so... like a ghost from the past suffocating me, and in revisiting that, I... lost the most important thing in my life". Biting his lips, Carmen tried to look straight again. The weight of those words leaving his mouth stung and he sure was not prepared for it.

You wanted to stay at the apartment. The outburst of emotions still hung heavily on your shoulders, but Luca was going back to the bakery, and he was determined to drag you out of the house. Even if you stayed there for five minutes, it still meant at least a solid four minutes of walking outside. His arm was draped over your shoulders. One of his AirPods was in his ear, the other in yours, as you listened to one of the old playlists you two had made together. Luca convinced you to see your old therapist once more. "At least a couple of times", he had reasoned, "Till you sort through everything that's going on in here right now", he had pointed to your temple. You agreed because putting your mental state on his shoulders was just too much. Luca already had to deal with your nightmares. Not to mention the outbursts like today.

You were a second away from asking him if he'd need your help around the back or if you'd be able to just eat whatever Chris decided to place in front of you when your phone rang. You stopped instantly. Your eyes darted up to Luca. You weren't sure what you were silently asking of him, but you were more than thankful when he reached into your back pocket and pulled your phone out. "Unknown number", Luca muttered, watching your face pale. Your heart sank instantly. What if this is the hospital? What number was called when they found Mikey? Have they found Carmen? You placed your hand on Luck's chest, steadying yourself. One of his arms wrapped instantly around your back as he pressed the green button. The cursing on the other side filled your ears, and you instantly closed your eyes.

"Hello", Luca said, but it felt like the caller didn't even listen. "I just quit", the voice said, and your head instantly jarred towards the phone. "I quit, so did Marcus, and... Wait... Sorry...Must have", you quickly snatched the phone from Luca's hand. "Sydney?", you asked wearingly; you must have forgotten to put her phone number into yours. "Yeah, it's me, and Marcus is here", you heard a distant hello that made you smile weakly. "What's going on? What happened?", you asked, hearing a deep sigh leaving Suddenly lips, before she muttered something to Marcus, "It's insane here without you. Carmy is an absolute piece of shit".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 @harrysmatcha @lady-bellyn @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child @arieltwvdtohamflash @simsiddy @yezzyyae @hidingfromtex @toptierbunny @rooster-bradshaws @literatureluater @hellokitty4eva

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Bear meet Fox

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Out of everyone in the vast city of Chicago, Carmen was glad it was you who stumbled into his rundown restaurant.

a/n: I'm too in love with this man to not write about him, so I'm contributing to our shared obsession with my silly little ficcc.

Also reader is Latina in this and yes it's partially self indulgence.

You couldn't believe you were about to do it.

Not due to  excitement but mostly dread, and a bit of self loathing, that the lowest point in your life had brought you here of all places in the city. Might as well call it point Nemo because there was no way you could get any further away.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you kept your eyes still on the rundown building across the deserted street, afraid it would dissipate and take with it your only chance of employment in a 200 mile radius. The phone screen lit up with the last message from your brother a few days ago and you wanted to punch him square in the face at the way he worded his stupid attempt at “helping” you find a job.

‘So you stop moping around the house cuz its getting pathetic’

Read the text under a picture of a ‘HELP WANTED’ sign, poorly taped to the inside of a surprisingly clean window, stark contrast to the grimy brick that surrounded it. A second text had also been left on read, with a maps link to the location where you stood, balancing on your feet out of nerves. You contemplated your options, as if you had any; turn around, head home and lay in bed until you withered and died of misery. God, your brother was right, you were getting pathetic.

You took a very deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then blew it out into the cold surroundings. ‘You can do it. It’s just another interview, you've done those before. More in the past month than your whole life sure, but who cares? This is the good one.’ You tried psyching yourself up. It could always be worse, you remembered, though lately it seemed more true everyday.

You forced your feet to move from their petrified state and walked towards the building, made sure that the sign was the same one your brother sent, then stood with an outstretched hand about to pull the door open when a voice coming from the left side of the building called your attention.

“Yo, sweetheart! We open at noon!” A man wearing gray joggers and an over washed shirt stood with his head peeking against the corner of the building. If it weren’t for the apron tied around his waist, you’d assume he’s some stranger sticking his nose in other people’s business, but with the bags under his eyes and the cigarette hanging from his mouth, you recognized the trademark of a tired restaurant worker.

“I’m here for the help wanted ad?” You said more like a question, raising a manila folder and shaking it so he could see that you weren’t there for sandwiches, or whatever it was they sold.

“Why?” He asked skeptically, scanning you from head to toe and taking a drag from his cigarette without using his hands. Show off.

You couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot, out of nervousness and intimidation, so you chose to shrug. You could have said you needed the job or literally anything else, but that answer seemed to be enough for him. The guy took another drag then gestured with his head for you to follow him around the corner. With a doubtful turn to the glass door, you moved to the left and followed the man into the parking spot between buildings where, you hoped, another entrance to the restaurant would be waiting for you.

You moved slowly over the gravel, making your way deeper into the empty space. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left your lips at the sight of a long metal door opened ajar, with the man finishing his cig keeping it from closing. He made a circular impatient motion with his hand while staring at you and that was enough for you to quicken your pace towards him.

“Hurry up babe, we ain’t got all day” He said with a loud voice despite being less than three feet away. “C’mon, I’ll see if I can find my asshole cousin. He’s the one who put that stupid sign up anyway.”

You fully entered the building and were immediately welcomed by the familiar scent of roasted meats and sauteed vegetables, the buzz of old vent pipes and the scraping of metal pans against the burners slightly numbed the anxiety growing in your stomach. This was familiar, this you knew. Down to the Bachata beat playing somewhere inside from an overworked radio and the blinding white lights reflecting off the even whiter tiled walls.

The man seemed to have disappeared somewhere past the kitchen, leaving you stranded in the middle of the Steward station with nothing but a half assed ‘wait here’. You clutched your folder containing your resumé near your chest and tried to make yourself as small as it was possible in the already tiny space, so as to not interfere with anyone who were to pass by in a hurry. It felt like minutes had passed and the guy had not returned. You tried to keep yourself entertained by counting the stained steel pots hanging from the hooks above the sinks, then moved to count the beat up escoffier containers that rested on the rack in front of you. When that was done, you checked your surroundings in search of someone else to help you, as the asshole had been gone for some time and it didn’t seem like he’d be back soon.

About to give up hope and ready to push the exit door, you hear a loud ‘Corner!’ headed your way and turned just in time to see a mountain of pots and pans being carried to the sinks by a faceless body. His head was turned to the other side, probably doing his best to keep an eye on the path ahead. You tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat, so instead you stepped back out of his way and waited until he dropped the cookware. The faceless person dropped everything inside with a loud bang, then rested his arms against the metal edge, sighed and let his head hang low. From your position, scooted by the door in silence, you waited expectantly for him to turn around so you could say something; maybe explaining why you’re there would be a good way to start. But it took him some time to move. All you saw is the flexing of strained muscle on his arms as he gripped the sink like a lifeline. The movement of his tensed back as he breathed under the thin white shirt he wore brought a warmth to your cheeks and you knew you’re starting to be creepy so you forced yourself to talk.

“Hi-” Is all you get to say before he jumped back startled, wide blue eyes with a wild expression and a hand clutching over his blue apron where his heart was.

“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He shouted at you with a hand raking through his hair. 

“Sorry!” You yelled back. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat and ears and the warmth from a few seconds ago had turned scorching hot over all your skin.

He leaned forward and rested his hands over his knees trying to calm his pulse, then chuckled lightly and regained his composure. “No no you’re good, I-uh I didn’t mean to yell like that but you scared the shit outta me.”

He passed his hand over his face then left it over his mouth, contemplating you for a solid minute. He looked over at you unsure of what to say as you stood holding your folder to your chest and balancing on your feet. 

“Right… so'' He leaned against the sink. “Who are you?”

“Yeah sorry, I saw you were asking for help up front and wanted to see if it was still available.” You said pointing to where you assumed was front of house. In the small space, you couldn’t really make out the layout of the place. “Some asshole guy let me in but then left me here.”

“Fuckin’ Richie” He says under his breath. “Yeah, yeah it still is. You got any papers on you?”

You hand him the folder you had been clutching to your chest. He looked at you one last time then opened it to find your wrinkled resume inside. While he analyzed the information you peeked another look at him. Ashy blond hair framed a strong jaw and nose. He had a broad back and strong arms, likely from all the physical effort it took to work in a kitchen, and even though he took up some space, it seemed like he tried to shrink into himself. The  pale skin on his arms was littered with designs that you couldn’t make out from the distance, but you could see the hyper pigmentation of a few scars.

“Oven?” You ask, pointing to a small angry red mark across his forearm.

“What? Oh fuuuck.” He said as he turned his arm. “That’s the first time I see it, honestly.” 

You laughed lightly under your breath, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“C’mon.” He guided you out the Steward section and you assumed he’d take you to whoever was in charge of the place.

Your nerves had settled due to the familiar ambiance, as he conducted you through the different sections where a few cooks turned curiously, then settled by the expo  that stood tall facing the small window opening into the dining area.

“Mind if we check it here? The office is a shit hole right now.” He looked down at you with expectant eyes.

You swallowed dryly, you weren’t expecting him to be the one in charge. Does that mean you were checking out your future boss? Fuck. You nodded, afraid to trust your own voice. He nodded back then looked at the worn out paper.

“You have a pretty cool resume.” He started. “You’ve been all over the place. Hostess, service, line cook. Private chef for two years, where was that?”

“Uhm, some rich folks up in Lincoln Park. Just dinner and meal prep.” You said as nonchalant as possible.

“Well listen, I don’t think I can pay you as well as they did.” He joked. “We’re not that big of a place and in all honesty, business’ a little tight right now.” 

And there it was, the last rejection you were expecting. You looked down at your hands and did your best to calm the bile climbing up your throat.

“But we could really use the help, so maybe I can offer you to help out up front and once we’re back on our feet, you can move back here. The pay’s not the best and the hours are crazy long but it’s just in the meantime.” He stayed quiet waiting for an answer.

Your head snapped up to look at him after the first half, still surprised it wasn’t a rejection. You didn’t notice you had been quietly staring until he raised his brows expectantly.

“Wait, so that means I’m hired?” You questioned, still cautious.

“Yeah, you think you can start today?”

“Yes, yes thank you so much!” You cleared your throat to hide the too obvious excitement. “Yeah, I’ll just need a place to drop off my things.”

“Great, well we gave Sydney our last empty locker, but you can keep your bag in the office. It’s pretty safe.” He pointed to a closet sized door to the left and asked you to follow him while he explained that family was served before opening and that he’d introduce everyone then.

After dropping your bag inside the dimly lit room, that was indeed a shit hole, he guided you back to the kitchen, then through a white door that pushed into the front of house. You saw the asshole leaning against the long counter separated from the tables, telling a very engaging story to a shorter man in a backwards cap who appeared to just want to finish fixing a broken tap. When the door slammed behind you, they both turned towards you and the chef, who you had yet to know the name of. The taller of the two’s eyes grew in realization and his hand flew to his mouth in a fist to try and hide his laugh.

“Shiiit, my bad doll. I swear I went lookin’ for ‘em but fuckin’ Fak here couldn’t keep his pipe shut and started talking!” He said, using the back of his other hand to slap at the chest of the other man who turned offended to him.

“I didn’t say shit!  You came running to me talkin’ about the pretty girl you had in the bac-” 

“Both of you shut the fuck up and listen” The man behind you interrupted impatient, he placed his hand lightly on your lower back and pushed you further into the room. The placement of his hand did nothing to subside the growing shade of pink in your cheeks from the comment. “This is… shit sorry, I never asked your name.” He turned to you, hand still on your back.

A quiet ‘it’s okay’ left your lips and you introduced yourself to the group of men. The chef repeated your name to himself as a way of memorizing it, then spoke back to the group.

“Richie, she’ll be helping you up front.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not babysitting!” He turns to you. “No offense sweetheart, but this,” He said signaling the bar, “is a one man symphony, okay? I can’t have you screwing with my system.”

You did your best not to roll your eyes at him, because of course you expected him to be defensive about it. Enough experience in the service industry had shown you that older people tended to be quite resistant towards change, especially if the change came in the form of barely 5’3 and female. Sure you were young, you had barely graduated culinary school two years ago during the pandemic, but you had been working since your third year so you were more than familiar with the business.

“Well you have a shitty system.” Said Fak under his breath as he finished unscrewing something.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Richie said, offended. 

“I’m just saying man, you could use the help. I saw you jump at a customer the other day cause he was asking for ketchup.”

“Cause only idiots ask for ketchup with a sandwich!” He threw his hands in the air and turned his back to Fak.

“He was ten!” He shouted back.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue! Richie, you imbecile, take the help cause you need it and stop jumping on people before you catch a case, all right?!” He turned to you, rubbed your back with his hand still there and smiled slightly. “You’ll do great.” He says finally before turning to Richie and pointing up at him while walking back. “Don’t fuckin’ scare her off.”

And he was gone out the door. Richie made a gesture with both his hands pushing from under his chin to where the chef had disappeared then turned to you. He stayed silent, one hand on the bar and another on his hips as he stared at you in intimidation. You held his gaze, not cowarring now that you knew he wasn’t going to murder you. An ‘Aha!’ from Fak brought him back and he slapped his hand on the bar.

“Alright c'mon. I’m gonna need you to organize back here while I sweep around the tables. We open at 12 so we got enough time. Got it? ” He finished.

You salute with your right hand, rolled up your sleeves and walked behind the bar to start working on the task. “Yes, chef.” You mumbled out of habit.

“Nah, don’t fuckin’ start with that ‘chef’ thing with me, I’m already up to my balls with Carmy sayin’ it all the time.” He replied exasperated.

“Fine. Yes, asshole. Whatever.” You respond, rolling your eyes and starting to take things out from the fridge at the bottom of the counter.

You heard a snicker from Fak a few feet away, followed by a smacking sound and an ‘Ow! Fuck you!’ before Richie’s sneakers squeaked away into the other room. What you didn’t see was the small smirk on his face as he started walking away. You had balls, he’d give you that.

You powered through the absolute rat’s nest the bottom of the counter was. An empty jar of pickles, two moldy sausages and a single slab of cheese without the wrapper were only a couple of things you found while trying to clean the mess. You took anything useless and dumped it into a black trash bag Fak was nice enough to get you, before showing you where they kept all the cleaning supplies so you weren’t in the dark. It took you two trips to the supply shelf, a sponge, a rag and half a bottle of dish soap to ultimately get rid of the stale grease that gave the impression to have been there since the opening of the place. Once you were satisfied with the way you organized the station, you moved to scrub the top of all the counters and even give a little swipe with the rag on all the stools.

You had baby hairs sticking to your forehead and cheeks by the time you were done, even your jacket had been discarded and thrown under the now clean bar, but a satisfied smile rested on your face despite all that. God, you really missed working. You finally took some time to admire all the framed pictures littering the surrounding walls. Most were of sports players you weren’t familiar with; one, because you really weren’t a fan of any sport, and two, because the pictures looked so old that most of the specific features had been erased from too much exposure to the sun. There were also football jerseys hanging by a corner near the unlit menu and a big ‘Beef Deli’ sign on the wall behind you. You saw a couple cooks moving around behind the window under the sign and a little knot formed in your stomach at the thought of having to introduce yourself in a while.

You checked your wristwatch on your left hand while you wiped the sweat from your forehead with your right, hoping you still had some time to kill. But before you could look down, a voice by the door called your name. You looked up to see the chef, Carmy you had learned his name was, looking at you with a small smile.

“Front of house looks good, chef.” He complemented, clear blue eyes scanning the counters as he leaned against the door, hands playing with a spoon.

You took a deep breath and smiled back, holding onto your wrists behind your back, “Thanks, chef. I-uhm hope you don’t mind that I took some Fabuloso to wipe down the counter by the window. It smelled like shit.” You finish, pointing at the purple liquid in the spray bottle beside you.

“Yeah, no that’s fine.” He answers, a small laugh stuck in his throat. “But that was actually Tina’s so don’t let her see you used it.”

Your mouth opened slightly as your eyes grew, and you were afraid to ask how bad it would be if she found out. He straightened up with a smirk and tapped his spoon twice on the metal counter before signaling for you to follow him with his head.

“C’mon, family’s up.”

You turned on your heel to follow him into the other room, but jogged back, jumped over the counter high enough to slap the spray bottle with sufficient force for it to fall and roll under the counter. You did not know Tina, but you were sure as hell you also didn’t want to get your shit rocked on your first day on the job. 

You tried tidying up your hair back into a less messy ponytail and combed all the stray baby hairs before entering the adjacent room where the other workers were getting ready for family. Some faces stared from their seats, questioning the presence of the stranger invading their space. A few you had met on the rush while taking the garbage bags out or crossing the kitchen to the supply shelf. Marcus, the pastry chef, waved with a simple smile and pointed to an empty space beside him. The simple action brought a wave of relief over your shoulders as you advanced towards him, hands interlocked in nerves. You mumbled a ‘Thanks.’ and served yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in front of you.

Once everyone was sitting with a container of food in front, the chef introduced you to the table and let everyone know you’d be helping out up front with the service and that if they had any questions, they could ask you directly. The first one to jump at the opportunity was an older man with dark skin, asking you in a thick accent if you were related to Tina. There was a burst of laughter around the table, but he seemed to be serious about his question.

“Ebra, not all latinos are related you racist fucker.” Responded a small woman sitting beside him with a slap to his arm. Okay, so that’s Tina, you thought. “That’s like me saying you and Marcus are related cause you’re both black.” She finished pointing at the tall man sitting beside you.

“We are related.” Ebra responded with a teasing smile, staring at Marcus and you immediately knew where this was going. “I am his grandfather- his mom called me daddy last night!”

Another roar of laughter shattered along the table and you had to stick a spoonful of rice in your mouth to hide your smile. You heard a ‘C’mon man, that’s not right.’ from Marcus as he shook his head, but the creeping grin let you know that it was all in fun. The conversation flowed between comments on the food and stories they all recounted, glad to have a fresh pair of ears to hear them.

One of Richie’s was from a few weeks ago, when they had set up a video game tournament at the restaurant to make some extra cash and the nerds in line had gone so bat shit crazy, that one punched Carmy on the jaw and he had to go out and ‘beat their asses into shape’. You slowly swallowed the bite you had taken and stared at Richie sitting at the end by Carmy.

“Was he dressed like a giant carrot… By any chance?” You ask mortified. 

“No shit! You know the fucker?!” He yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Everyone turned to you like you were holding a new piece to a worthy puzzle.

You covered your face with your hands then crossed them in front of your chin. “Yeah… I think that fucker’s my 19 year old brother.” You affirmed scrunching your face in disgust. Fuckin’ Joshua.

The table went wild with jokes about how Carmy had almost gotten knocked out by a teen and through the hysterics you could still make out Richie’s voice saying “Oh my god, sweetheart. Thank you, really. You just made my WEEK!”  All you could do was pick around your container as heat crept up your neck.

You peered up through your lashes at Carmen sitting with a mortifying look and mouthed a heartfelt ‘Sorry’ for what felt like the tenth time that day. He was leaning back with his arms crossed, smiled with an ‘it’s okay’ and let everyone take a jab with their jokes. You looked back down to your food and did your best to drown out the teasing noises from everyone, but were unaware of how the chef raised his brows and swallowed dryly with his gaze still on you.

After minutes of teasing, everyone picked up their empty dishes and separated into their areas. You stayed in the dining room wiping down the tables that were left to clean before opening service and a couple of ideas came to mind on how you could decorate them to reduce the depressing feeling. At least for now, napkins and holders would do, the rest would have to wait. You power walked to the front where you remembered seeing a packet that looked to be from napkins, but once you reached inside all you found were a bunch of wrinkled brown pieces of paper.

“Richie!” You yelled from your crouched position.

“Yo!” He yelled back, head popping above you over the counter.

“I can’t seem to find any napkins.” You spoke while still searching hopefully in the space.

“You’re holdin’ em.” He stated, matter-of-factly. 

You stand fully and shake the supposed napkins in front of you. “Richie, these are stained and say Starbucks on em!” 

His grin grew wide on his face as he walked back with extended arms. “Welcome to The Beef, kid!” He laughed, then leaned down to unlock the glass door where you could already see some people forming a line.

You quickly dropped the napkins, grabbed the blue half apron you had been given and tied it around your waist as fast as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A fuckin’ heads up would’ve been nice, you thought as you plastered on a soft smile for the clients.

“Alright, fuckos! We’re open!” He shouted into the restaurant and wiggled his brows towards you. “Goodluck.”

Fuck.

*****

He was worried for you for the first fifteen minutes after opening. Afraid you’d see the mess you had stumbled upon or that his idiot cousin would say something that would have you grabbing your bag and leaving without as much as a goodbye. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, he would’ve even done the same if his name wasn’t in the lease  now instead of his brother’s.

He stopped worrying however, when he saw the way you managed yourself around the floor and customers. Empty plates were picked up with ease and replaced with warm ones that spent less than five minutes on the counter, the orders were taken within minutes and served with a kind smile. He was even surprised when you walked away from the other side of the expo with three plated sandwiches balancing in one hand and a forth plate in the other.

“Can you manage, chef?” He even asked when he saw you trying to find the perfect space between your fingers that could balance the plate, your lip caught in concentration.

You looked at him with your head still bowed and a breathy smile. “Yeah, thanks.” Then turned your back to deliver the dishes. 

It wasn’t his intention for his gaze to linger longer than it did as your hips swayed naturally with every step, or when despite the hectic sound of the kitchen he could still hear you laugh politely at a joke from one of their regulars. But it was only until Syd elbowed him in the side that he noticed he was being a bit creepy. Jesus, it’s like your 14 again, he thought.

“You’re worried Richie’s gonna scare her off but you’re the one giving me the creeps with all the staring.” She said after reading the printed ticket for another order.

“Heard, chef.” Was all he said, cleared his throat and went back to work, doing his best not to look up every time you walked to receive a new order.

It was only when the lunch rush died down and he was in desperate need of a cigarette, that he saw you sitting down with your head resting against the cold bricks of the adjacent building and eyes closed peacefully. He didn’t want to bother you, but he also didn’t want to waste the opportunity of telling you how well you had done in the first half of the day. Besides, the heavy door behind him slammed closed and startled you slightly, so there was no going back now.

“Hey.” You smiled softly, stretching your arms above your head and your legs straight forward, then relaxed altogether. 

“You smoke?” Carmy asked, offering you a cig as he sat on the empty crate a few feet away from you, elbows resting on his knees.

You shook your head no, but thanked him anyway. “I quit a few months ago.” You said just as he flicked his lighter on and the tip grew bright orange.

“Shit, sorry. If it bothers you I can turn it off.” He offered. He wanted to say ‘I can go somewhere else’ but he didn’t want to give you the idea that he didn’t wanna be there.

You shook your head no again still smiling and pulled one of your legs to your chest, turning to him. “So…” You asked curious. “How’d I do for my first half?”

Carmy chuckled lightly as he exhaled smoke into the air. He turned to you from his crouched position and for the fifth time that day, he took a good look at your face. Jesus fuck, how could someone as beautiful as you end up in his dump of all places? Despite your overworked expression and a few small bags beneath your eyes, he was sure he had never seen anyone’s face glow with such brightness as yours did now. His eyes danced around your face, taking in every single freckle he could before he tore them away after what to him felt like an eternity of staring- no- admiring your features.

“You did way better than I expected. Truly, chef. Thank you.” He whispered and, despite the noisy Chicago surroundings, you heard every word.

Your smile beamed brighter for what felt like the first time in months and the fist that had been constricting your heart for a while now seemed to give you some much needed space to breathe. 

Carmy finished his cigarette in comfortable silence, now laying back against the cold brick wall that helped ease the rising temperature in his body, while you played with the aquamarine ring on your pointer finger that reminded you too much of the chef’s specific shade of blue eyes.

“What’s Carmy short for?” You asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his internal thoughts.

It took him a couple of seconds to process the question, then smiled down to the gravel under his feet. “Uhm- it’s short for Carmen. It’s a family name. " He responded.

“Oh.” Was all you said, nodding your head. “It's nice. I have a cousin named Carmen.” You continue with a smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning down towards you, only to see you stand up and  clean off the dust from the back of your black jeans and readjust the apron around your waist.

You stood with your hands on your hips and stared down at him for another second before smiling and making your way to the tall door. “Yeah, but she’s a girl.” You reply without turning back and push your way into the restaurant, leaving the chef with a snickering grin and a lightheaded feeling he wished wasn’t just from the nicotine.

Chapter 2.

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Hi hi!!! The last request you did for me was amazing!!! 🤩🤩

This time I’m asking for Kieran with a sweet trainer that trains fire types? Maybe their ace happens to be a Delphox? 👀 (Doesn’t have to be ofc 😅)

I freaking love this idea. I do hope you don't mind I used a Chandelure as the ace instead. Its my third favourite Pokémon plus I may or may not have a personal grudge against the fox... it has wronged me in many ways. This is no where near my best work and I must admit I wasn't to happy with it. But at the end of the day I do hope you at least tolerate it

A Sweet Ember | Kieran x Reader (Fire specialist)

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After a bug type trainer got a little to aggressive with his words, Kieran almost got physical himself. But with your convincing, Kieran stood down and got to watch his little flame burn this trainer to a crisp.

Warnings: Small argument, Minor threats. Fluff

SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for The Indigo Disk Ending

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

Ever since the journey to Area Zero, Kieran had been trying his best recently to undo the mistakes of his past. Many had been understanding of his passions, sharing the same drive to be stronger. Although there were the odd few who saw Kieran’s methods too brutal and unruly to forgive. He’d been able to sway many in his favour, using gifts and apologies when possible. Though you made it especially easy; having such a calming presence and welcoming smile, you were the main reason Kieran was even able to gain anyone's favour. And he was eternally grateful to call you his. Without you, he never would have gotten to this point. But even you couldn’t sway everyone. “Don’t take it to heart, Kieran! I'm sure they still need time to come around…” You pleaded, resting your hand on Kieran’s shoulder, feeling it sink down in defeat.

“What’s the point? No matter what I say, this kid won’t listen to a word! It's hopeless…” Kieran’s voice was laced with doubt and quilt. After listening to him argue back and forth with this bug type trainer, it would seem Kieran was especially harsh to him.

“Why not let me talk to him? Maybe I can convince him to listen to you.” With a gentle smile you move to stand in front of your boyfriend, resting your hand on his cheek so he’d look at you, a light peep coming from your bag, as your Litwick popped its adorable little face out to encourage Kieran.

His doubt washed away when he saw your smile, returning it in kind as he took the hand on his cheek into his. “You're right… you always were better with words than me. But I'm coming with you… with how he was talking to me, I will not stand for him treating you that way!”

“You’re adorable, you know that.” Kissing his cheek, your smile only brightens at the sight of his flushed face. “Alright, you can come, but please stand just out of sight. I don’t think Buggy would be too keen to talk with me if he saw you there…”

“Right! I’ll stay out of sight, but if he says anything hurtful to you, I'm stepping in!” His determination was hard to ignore, so with a sweet chuckle you took his hand, dragging him off in the direction that bug trainer had run off in, your Litwick waving its tiny arms in excitement.

It didn’t take long to find your Buggy friend, he’d run off towards the School entrance. You’d spotted him battling a Doduo just outside the gate; and Kieran had spotted the perfect hiding spot too. With a quick squeak, Kieran let go of your hand and sneaked his way over to his new hiding spot, his years of hiding behind Carmen paying off. As soon as he was out of direct line of sight, you quickly made your own way over to this trainer, a warm smile on your face.

“Excuse me, I'm really sorry to disturb you but, could you spare a moment? I wanted to ask you something!” You question, tapping the trainer's shoulder lightly, making sure the fight he was having with the Doduo was over.

Spinning on his heel, Buggy stared down at you for a moment, he was a bit taller than you, so his presence was slightly looming as he stood proud, his arms crossed expectantly. “Well, ask away. Must be important if you're bothering me during my training.”

“Again, I am sorry about this, but I just wanted to ask what you thought about the Kieran news? How he’s trying to amend his mistakes. I'm sure you must have heard what everyone's been saying.” trying to be as unsuspecting as possible, you clasp your hands in front of you, continuing on your point. “I happened to notice you turning Kieran down earlier, and I was curious as to what caused you to do so? The fight seemed pretty heated.”

Raising his eyebrow, the boy only stared harder into you. “Strange thing to ask someone, what's it to ya? Is he a friend of yours? If so, I would steer clear, don’t buy into these ‘he’s changed’ rumours. He is a no good pain in my behind and after how he treated me. I'm not giving him the kind of day!”

“No, no, he isn’t a friend per say… Anyway, that's not important. Why not just hear him out? After all, these are just rumours, and you can't prove anything until you hear his side?” With an almost begging look in your eyes, you try to reason with him again, but all you got was a scowl and a judgmental gaze.

“Arceus you’re annoyingly persistent. Take a hint will ya, I ain’t interested in what that no good brat of a champion has to say. Or you for that matter. So buzz off!” He waved his hand at you, almost smacking you in the face if you hadn’t stepped back, your Litwick now cowering inside your bag now, before it had been intently watching the conversation, curiously waiting for every response.

Kieran suddenly appeared in front of you, startling the both of you. How he got to them from his hiding spot without being noticed; you’ll never know, but now wasn’t the time to think of that. Instead, your full attention was drawn to his face. Rage filled Kieran’s eyes, his Hydrapple's pokeball clutched in one of his hands, the other balled in a fist. Seems any hope he had of reasoning peacefully was gone the moment he got a bit too feisty with you. “Keep your hands away from them!”

“Kieran no!” You quickly scurry your way in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. His glare never once leaves the trainer behind you.

“Hmph, shoulda figured you were his, the way you were questionin me an all… Shame the almighty champion has fallen this far from grace he has to call in his sweet little Litten to talk to me.” The boy mocked, poking your shoulder at the Litten part.

“Well, this ‘Litten’ has claws. So please don’t touch me unless you want to get burned!” You snap, wafting his hand away from you, still trying to hold back Kieran from out right punching him.

“ OOO seems little cupcake here's got a bite after all. Alright, tell you what! If you beat me in a 4v4 battle, I'll hear pretty boy out. Sounds fair?” He questioned, leaning back expectantly.

With a bright smile, you nod, clapping slightly as you speak. “Sounds like a fair deal! I’ll meet you at the arena then”

“Oh no, we're doing it right here, right now. Heal up and meet me by that rock over there. Hurry it up, will you? I'm not a patient guy.” Buggy stated. Taking a few steps away from you, leaning on the rock he had pointed out. You had no need to heal as you rarely engaged in battles, so you simply took a few paces away so there was plenty of room to battle.

“Destroy Him will you, love!?” Kieran demanded, placing his hand on his cheek, the burning fire in his eyes returned in yours. All you did was nod before Kieran placed a gentle kiss to your lips, moving behind you to watch you destroy this Insect of a trainer.

Your opponent started out with the best case scenario, a Scizor, a Pokémon with a four times weakness to fire. So without a second thought, you send out your most trusted Pokémon. Your Chandelure, a Pokémon you had raised since you were a little kid. Seems your Chandelure was feeling the same burning drive you were as its flames burned brighter than ever before. You could see this trainer visibly gulp once he had noticed your specialty, the red tones of your clothing and the very obvious Litwick in your bag, seemingly not enough of a hint, though your sweet personality and giving nature tended to accompany the burning passions most would see from a fire specialist. 

You didn’t even need to bring the rest of your team out, as one by one, your Chandelure KO’d every single one of this trainer's team, you almost felt bad for the rest of your team missing out on this fiery display. Any sign of that cute persona you had was gone, replaced by a boiling hot drive. The flame in your eyes pushing your point across more with each attack you landed. And as soon as his final Pokémon fell, you claimed victory.

Refusing any money or BB points Buggy tried to give you, instead pushing him and Kieran closer together, demanding the pair talk this out and at least come to some form of mutual understanding. Good or bad, they were going to talk it out and your team was going to make sure that happens.

Chandelure floated behind you, eating a spicy berry you’d given it as a reward. Your Blazikin standing behind Kieran, and your Ninetales standing behind the Pest. Your little Litwick poking its eyes over the crease of your bag, watching the silent stare down unfold. Though the Pokémon swayed the pair from leaving, it didn’t exactly start them talking, the silence was burning your ears. This was going to be a long night.

[neonovember]

Golden Boy

part three of three

warnings; filth, angst, lover boy, self deprecation, anxiety, mentions of death, smut, heartbreak, fluff, face fucking, oral (m recieving), piv (wrap it yall), 18+, explicit language, Richie, carmen being in love, the nickname bear, some very not so slef inserted heartbreak and love confessions

w/c: 6k

a/n: this request really changed from a drabble to a 3 part series holy fuck i need a job, but really this is actually so self fulfilling to be able to deliver your requests about a character i love we all love so much! it’s like we’ve created this aesome little community here :) i love this universe sooo much so be sure there will be drabbles connected to this series

BEAR COMES OUT IN LESS THAN A DAY! LET’S START AMPING IT UP

also if anyone was wondering how i’d imagine high school!carmen it would honestly be this one edit i saw of lip ages ago lmaoo

The dull rain of the shower resounded through your bathroom, the rest of your things had been delivered in the early Friday morning, and you rushed to enjoy the high water pressure Mae had boasted about before you moved in.

The steam has begun to fog up your mirror, and you wipe a hand across it, your reflection distorted between the streaks of your fingertips. Today was the day. You would finally see Carmen again and your body was racked with fear like it was the day you left him.

After you had come back from the Farmers Market, you had received a text from Sugar, and you spent the afternoon unloading everything to her about work, your move back and most importantly Carmen. 

You and Sugar had grown close after you and Carmen had become friends, in fact, you had grown close to the entire family before you left for New York. And all it took was a phone call for you and Sugar to fall back into that familiarity once again, all you hoped was that it would be the same for you and Carmen.

Once Mae had finished up with work, the both of you, as promised shared a bottle of a wine and a blunt where she had squealed at your news of the dinner, and, despite your protests on the phone brought a rosy hued summer dress that she had begged you to keep. 

It was left on a hanger on the door hook, and you stare at the gorgeous wave of the hem, and dip of the neckline that you had got you looking at Mae in doubt. She had screamed when you had tried it now, boasting about her amazing fashion sense and how utterly ruined Carmen would be.

You steered clear from feeding into her delusions, Carmen could be married for god's sake, whilst you were thinking if he would like the colour of your dress. He was not though, you had practically burned the entire timeline of his socials into your retina and there had not been a single indication of Carmen having a partner. But he had always been sort of secretive, and you couldn't hold onto the hope that Carmen hadn’t taken a liken to any one of the hundred girls that threw themselves at him.

I mean, it wasn't like he was waiting for you, right?

The heat of the shower spread through your body and you sighed in relief as the water loosened the soreness of your muscles that had begun to ache. You had a couple hours until the time Sugar and Richie had told you to come in, and you spent it leisurely, washing your hair carefully, and scrubbing your skin clean with the multitude of products you had accumulated the second you had more money to spend on just food, rent and utilities. 

You forget to put a bath mat near the shower, and the cool stone is stained with your wet footsteps. You make quick work of drying yourself off before reaching for the same old bottle of shea butter you hadn't stopped using since high school. It was on its last leg, the worn label tearing apart, and soon enough you would have to cut it open to get to the last droplets. Old habits die hard and you had been a broke college student for a long fucking time.

After you've finished with your makeup and curling your hair so that it lay in soft blown out curls, you carefully and not so gracefully step into the dress. You don't own a lot of nice pieces like this, and you were forever grateful to Mae for coming in the way she did even despite your protests. 

Because as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you realise you look pretty fucking hot. You put on the last of your jewellery, spritz yourself with some perfume, before sliding your feet into flats that wouldn't destroy your feet. You reach for your phone, the time flashing 6:30 and later than you had anticipated.

Stress fills you at the thought of coming late, especially since you really only knew three people there, but you force yourself to calm down with a breath, realising the beef was only a 5 minute drive from your place anyway.

The drive to the Beef was one that was filled with anxiety and glee, you couldn't help keeping the smile off your face as you passed through the familiar roads leading up to the family restaurant. Despite the familiarity of the streets, your mind always finds its way back to the most familiar place of all, Carmen. You wonder what he might look like all grown into himself, you've followed his many strides in the culinary world, even if you didn't understand a bit of the kitchen itself, but you were unbelievably proud of every award he had and numerous received. But that had been all online, to see Carmen in person was a whole different thing entirely.

It was an experience, to see the way he’d body moved, from the light touches of his fingers helping you play guitar to the way he glided through the kitchen concentrating on cooking you up new recipes he’d made.

He’d take criticism from only you, even if Mickey's loud booming voice intercepted your comments from across the kitchen island. You had to sniffle back tears at the memory of it, Mickey and Carmen were so incredibly close, you feel like a fraud having not been there for him when he died, how could you even call yourself his friend? 

The truth was, you and Carmen had a horrible way of dealing with grief, you were battling with your own loss at the time, getting news of Micheal’s death only months after your own Father had died from a drunk driver. You had come back to Chicago for the funeral before running back to New York and stuffing yourself with your work. The pain had been too great then and the regret of leaving your brother and mother to clean up the mess had eaten you alive for years. 

You and Carmen had a habit of stuffing your emotions into tight spaces. Your father, Mickey, the both of your absence in each other's lives, it was a grief you wore well.

In the knots in your shoulder, in the bags underneath your eyes, in the aching hearth of your heart, in the emptiness of your suppressed stomach. As well as you could anyway.

But the world keeps turning, and the view of the renovated Beef catches your eye as you shakily turn into the car park adjacent. You can’t run now, there isn’t a back door you can slip through and a plane you can catch to escape the reality of your past. 

This was it, had this been what you had waited for? 

You can feel your heart in your throat as you walk through the car park, the soft lantern lights hanging across the top of the restaurant in ribbons. The place had changed from the last time you'd seen it, the rotting wood replaced with pristine painted planks and the cloudy windows now crystal clear. It even had a name change, replaced instead with the unmistakable nickname of Carmen,

Bear

Sugar had texted you to meet at the front, and as you bite your lip in anticipation, you see a blonde haired woman shout back a swear before walking towards the front of the Beef, her eyes catching you through the front windows, shooting up in surprise and glee, before rushing through the doors.

“Holy fucking shit! You were always hot Bug but goddamn, you outdid yourself! How are you my love?” Sugar replies, reaching to gather you in her arms. 

You press your face into the familiar scent of her, and you sigh in relief as your fears begin to dissolve, you weren't utterly alone here.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Carm is going to fucking implode when he see’s you” Sugar whispers with a grin, in which u shake yout head with a chuckle.

“Uh I don’t know about that, we haven’t really talked in, well, since High school” You reply honestly, you may have lied to Richie, but you couldn't escape Sugar’s bull-shit- detector gaze.

“You both were always so scared to make the first move, Mikey had to hold me back a couple times from just locking you both in a room and forcing you both to confess” Sugar replies with a grin

“Confess? What do you mean” You reply, and Sugar shakes her head with a chuckle,

“Don’t bullshit me Bug, it’s as clear as day. You both were inseparable then, and you will be inseparable now, everyone has their own timeline.”

You nod with a sigh, rubbing your eyes as you thought back to the call you had received asking you to join the design group in charge of revamping Madison Avenue. So much had changed since then, and it was about time that you faced what you couldn't 8 years ago.

“You changed him, ya know?” Sugar says, all of a sudden into the comfortable silence between you.

“Hm?” You reply

“I don’t know. Carm, he’s just, he’s distant, always has been. And then somehow, you became friends and there was this just change in him. He started to smile and laugh more, started opening up to us, because of you. Whether or not you realise it, you marked him in a way that was permanent you know? And when you left- well, it all went to shit, he was fucking destroyed and the only person that could help him was Mikey, and you, you get the rest of it” Sugar sighs, shaking her head as you stare at her.

“Sometimes, I’d bring you up, or-or we’d be talking about a new building, architecture or whatever, anything that related to you, and you'd just see him shutdown. He needs you hun, he doesn’t realise it but its like he’s fucking decaying without you.”

Anyone else and you would have shaken your head, but it was Sugar, and all the years you've known her she hadn't once sugar coated anything. 

“It was always going to be Carm, Sugar. A million times over and it would always be him” You reply, a tight smile on your face as you try and blink back tears, and she nods with a frown. 

“No crying, god I told myself I wouldn't cry” Sugar says, shaking her body as you laugh, sliding a hand in hers before walking into the Bear.

You aren't given enough time to investigate the changes to the restaurant, eyes glancing at pictures frames and stainless kitchen benches before stepping into a decorated back dining space, fixed with a long table covered with steaming plates of food and entrees. 

The sound of your footsteps has the entire room coming to a halt, and you scan the many people seated at the long table, their eyes watching you with a look of surprise before recognition floods across them. 

You can't recognise a single face, all unfamiliar to you but you get the strange feeling they know who you are, as they await for you to speak.

“Uh, Hello, um, you all probably have no idea who I am and this is kind of weird so-” You ramble nervously, trying and failing to introduce yourself to the many people watching your every move.

“Oh carino, you are gorgeous! You must be Carmen’s friend?” A short hispanic woman grins, making her way over to pull you into a hug, and the move causes the entire table of people to come over and introduce themselves. 

You can’t stop keeping the smile off your face, as you learn about each of the amazing people around you who have kept your sweet boy company. They were incredible, and you don’t doubt they shared a bond you only ever built working together, piecing together where Carmen had spent his time, and recognising the glimpses of faces you had seen on the walls you had walked by.

You converse easily with Sydney, a young aspiring chef who had kept Carmen on his toes, but your mind isn’t exactly present. Your eyes are glancing every second at the door, waiting for the man you've been dreaming of since you were 18 to walk through those doors.

You hear a tumble coming from the back door leading to the alleyway behind the Bear, before the familiar voice of Richie yells out incoherent curse words. You aren't able to prepare yourself for the footsteps coming up the steps and into the entrance of the dining room before Carmen cerulean blues catch you immediately. 

His eyes take their time with you, indulging in the peek of skin from the slit in the dress, before they trail up to your hips, snaking around your waist and blinking back at the dip of your cleavage. Carmen is undone, entranced by the way you hug and fill out the dress so perfectly, it does something to him he feels guilty about. Like the moments he would thrust up into the column of his fists after that one party where you leaned against him, or when he remembered the taste of your body wash.

Carmen is scared to move his eyes up to your face, fearing that he will be irrevocably gone if he does, but he does it anyway, because he's wasted enough time without you, and he can’t bear the seconds past him by without seeing the face he's dreamt of since forever

Carmen has to reach for the table near him, gripping the wood in his fists as he steadies himself when he sees you for the first time. He has to bite back his immediate response to let out a swear, his eyes trailing along every curve and line of your features he has begun to forget. The rush of memories, and feelings of you unleash within him like an unyielding current, breaking down every wall and shield he’s put up to stop it. It was fruitless, Carmen knew one day it would all come crashing down, because it was always going to be you, a thousand times over.

You let out a shaky breath as you catch his eyes fluttering over every single feature, you should feel self conscious but you don’t, you bare your entire self to him. You furrow your brow as you take in the honey caramel wisps of his hair pushed behind his ears. Your eyes catch the numerous inked sketches running along his arms and hands, you yearn to run your fingers along them, feel his veins jut out, they trail up his arm, like a stream and you have to swallow back the desire that had begun to unfurl at the vision in front of you.

He was utterly beautiful, his clean shirt contorted and stretched from the sheer size of him, the muscle and girth of his biceps and shoulders were so different to the lanky teenager you fell in love with. You feel a sadness at the thought of not seeing him since then, it had truly been too long. 

He still wore his chef apron, though it lay untied and around his neck like he had quickly run into the kitchen to fix something.

You don’t know how you’re able to form the words, but you can hear yourself calling his name like a plead

“Hey Bear” You whisper, the tears at your waterline one whisper away from falling

And it’s the simple sound of your voice that has Carmen crashing and falling, swallowing back tightly.

“Hey” 

You can make out Sugar calling everyone out to the front of the house, mumbling about flying pigs or whatever conjured up lie to leave you both alone. But it’s practically white noise around you, as your eyes remain forever on Carmen, like they always wore.

There's a silence that stretches between you two, and you feel the distance between you both from your fingertips.

“Thought I told you I’d punch your stomach if you cried” You say with a smile, tears falling down your cheeks and Carmen crumbles at your words, it's like his been hit by a freight truck, when you reminder of that day, but he still lets out chuckle, looking up at you with a grin.

“So I hear you're redesigning our very own Madison Avenue?” Carmen says, and it's like he’s been practising and rehearing the sentence over and over in his mind, it sounds more like a script than something he truly wants to say.

And you see through his bullshit, turning your head to the side as you look at him like he's translucent, and Carmen gives up before he is even able to start, what’s the point of faking it now when you could both see through each other.

“God, you're beautiful” Carmen says after a beat, the blues of his iris crashing and falling into a deeper depth as he looks at you. You blush, you never blush, you only ever blush for Bear.

“Carmen..” You whisper, the tears continuing to fall and roll down your neck

“Why didn't I tell you? God why didn't I?” Carmen says in a tight voice, like he's holding himself back, like he's holding himself from breaking, and you want to reach out and hold him instead.

You feel your heart drop, as you look up at him in anticipation, no no no??. You didn’t run half way across the state, you didn't spend years searching for Carmen in relationships and first dates, no- how? All this time. All this fucking time you could have spent with him, whether long distance, in New York, whatever, you would’ve made it work, hell you would have travelled endlessly for him.

“Why didn't you?” You breathe out. letting every tear and cry loose. And Carmen lets out a breath, your eyes communicating what your mouth could not for 10 years, letting your body shake with grief at the truth of it all.

Carmen feels his entire world breaking, he can feel the ground beneath him shake, he is consumed with you, you you you, and always and forever you.

“All this time..” Carm replies, shaking his head, laughing a little to himself as he stares at you in grief and love

“Yeah” You chuckle, before tears spill down your cheeks, and Carmen kind of breaks too, all the worries and missed time and love you would have shared out in the open between you. You both had been so foolish, so wrapped up in the fear of rejection/ruining your friendship you had ruined it all instead.

“I love you, I have loved you the moment I walked you home. I have loved you desperately, I loved you from afar, I have loved even when you didn’t know it”

“God Carmy, my sweet golden boy, I always knew it” You sniffle, and Carmen scrunches his eyebrows, grinding his teeth against his jaw as he shakes his head, undoing his apron so that he doesn’t get your gorgeous dress dirty, pulling you close to him. You reach for his hand, its size massive in yours, as you bring it to your chest

“You feel that? My heart beats for you Carmen, only you, forever you” You whisper, as you hold onto his hand tight

“I was just- I was so scared, so scared that I would ruin everything, our friendship, it was the one thing going for me and I couldn’t ask you, I couldn’t ask you to love me?” Carmen says, shaking his head like even saying the words felt stupid

“Carmen you are worth loving, I loved you then and I love you now. Sugar was telling me about how I changed you and you know what I was thinking the entire time? How everytime I think back to those years before my heart just aches. It aches because I have always been searching for you, Carm, my body yearns and reaches for you every day, you were the one thing that made me feel like I could make it out of here. That if I tried hard enough, if I had you believing in me too, I could really do it.

“And you know what Carmen? I did do it, I’m back in Chicago designing something that I believe in and I still feel so out of place. I feel scattered, like half of my body and mind is missing, and I’ve always known, even when I didn’t, that you kept that part of me. You held it safe, and I want it back, I want you back Carmen. I want my boy back.” 

“It was always going to be you Carm, that’s the truth, I love I love I love love love you” You breathe out, your heart hammering against your chest as you let all the chips fall where they may, you each Carmens face, trying to decipher the look on his face.

You want to know what he's thinking, have you scared him? Does he not love you anymore? And it's like Carmen can tell the thoughts are consuming you because you can't think of them anymore, in fact you can't think at all except the feel of Carmen lips pushed up against your own.

They’re pillowy and soft, and it takes you a second before you kiss him back with such reverence that you swallow back each other’s groans. You don’t come up for air, you won't, you can't let him slip through your fingers again, Carmen can’t let himself lose you now, with the taste of you on his tongue, so sweet like he imagined you to be.

Carmen fears he might combust, that he might dissolve into a puddle right in front of you because you taste so good, he slides a hand up your neck pressing you closer to his chest as you grip his shirt in tight fists.

Carmen can feel himself smiling into your lips, and it causes you to let out a chuckle, allowing Carmen to press his canines into your lip, just a little, a nibble that has you moaning out loudly in a way that shocks you both.

You press your body impossibly closer to Carmen’s, until you can feel him nudge against the curve of your stomach, grinding down against him until he grip’s your waist tight, pushing you deeper until you both have to let go with a breath.

“You don’t know how long I have waited to do that” Carmen says, his eyes still shut, like he was savouring the taste of you that was on his tongue, on his lips, his skin, everywhere. Carmen wanted you everywhere.

“And how long I have waited to do this” You trail your nails across his chest, his eyes watching the mischievous grin on your face grow as you trail your fingers down his chest, resting on his belt before the sound of a yelp and a clap breaks out, causing you to retract your hand and causing Carmen to let out a whine.

The rest of the crew and Sugar come tumbling into the room, hootting with cheers and laughter like they had been pressing an ear to the door the entire time, which they probably had. Sugar makes her way over, hugging you both, and pressing a kiss to your cheek before punching Carmen lightly.

“You didn’t think I knew? God what kind of sister do you take me for??” 

It’s all a blur of laughter and smiles and light shooting colours, Carmen keeps his eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t leave his side, holding onto him like he might fly away. And in all the commotion, in all the light and laughter and love Carmen sees Mikey. Sees him in flashes, the nape of his neck, the corner of his mouth pulling back in a smile and he swears, Carmen swears he sees him nod towards him.

You let it rip, bear, you did it, you did it. 

And Carmen did, and he looks down at you in his arms surrounded by people he loved and his heart for the first time feels full. Carmen had written himself off to a life of fulfilment through his work, and whilst that was purposeful and important to him, he always felt like a piece of his life was missing, a piece of his heart, it was taken by you just as he had taken yours. 

And now he can’t mask himself from his feelings, he can't watch you from afar anymore, he wants you beneath him, wants to bottle your laugh and drink in to cure him. He's broken and he doesn’t deserve you but god with the way you look up at him? It makes him question everything, makes him think he's enough, that there might be a chance he's more than the vile words he calls himself.

He want to get better for you, for the both of you, and its overwhelming, all these feelings he feels all of a sudden, it's like a switch has turned on and he can’t stop it, it washes over him, those memories from before, and you grip his arm with a squeeze, looking up as him before walking him out, guiding him with a hand until he follows you out into the alleyway.

“Sorry, it just was a whole lot at once, I haven’t even properly asked about you and now the entire kitchen knows you and” Carmen rushes out, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously

“You forget how well I know you bear?” Is all you say, and you can see the way he relaxes into himself, looking up at you with a nod. And it’s true, you know him completely and utterly, and it’s almost a relief, it almost makes Carmen cry because for the first time he doesn't feel like he needs to explain himself. Carmen feels like he has someone who knows him deep down, knows all his flaws, and problems and issues, and still wants him. 

The thought is so foreign and strange but he stomach bubbles with the elated glee of the start of something, something you both know, deep down, was meant to happen whether it was now or in 30 years. You would always, always find each other, how could you not? When it felt like half of you had disappeared without them?

Carmen can’t help but a press another kiss to your lips, snaking his arm so that it rested on your hip, squeezing a little before you break from him

“The food in there looks lovely, but considering what has just occurred, do you want to go somewhere more..” You start

“Intimate? Fucking yes. I don’t need Richie watching me and Sugar breathing down my neck. There is so much..” Carmen replies, eyes having a bit of a faraway look as he thinks back to all the times he had wished he could confide in you but couldn't.

“Let’s make up for lost time, shall we?” You grin, holding out a hand that Carmen eagerly grasps, before practically running into whichever car is closest. 

You and Carmen end up in a dimly lit jazz bar that sells signature shirley temples and tampalas that make your heart sing. You spend the entire night talking about everything, you both spill the entire contents of your guts to each other and you couldn't be happier, wiping each other's tears when the love got too much and your chest filled with gratitude at finding each other again.

You tell him you're only here for 6 months, and you leave the bar calling Mae to extend your lease. It doesn't take long for you both to slide into the familairy of your friendship again, spending every waking moment with each other, fulfilling every desire, checking off every firsts, exploring Chicago again with the one man who's been waiting for you for eternity. 

It would have been cute if you werent fucking like rabbits as well, you were addicted to each other, chasing orgasm after orgasm like it was a high. You should have been thrown in jail with the amount of times you had nearly been caught, and Carmen’s office was practically a health code violation.

But the truth was, Carmen finally had something to come home to in the late evenings and you had something to say goodbye to in the early mornings.

*

The early morning sun drags along the horizon, it cuts through the shapes and cuts of the intricate frost that had begun to develop over the window, showering the room in its dull yellow through the linen curtains of your shared bedroom.

It had snowed during the night, and the city council had closed the roads, advising as many people to stay indoors if possible, causing you and Carmen to finally have an excuse to stay indoors and pressed against each other the entire day.

The only sounds you can hear in the early cold July morning are the shutters of shop doors opening and the simmering wave of traffic that would soon begin to spill into the city streets below.

That and the strangled sound of Carmens moans as you slide your hand across the slick length of him, heavy in your palm.

He watches you carefully, eyelids heavy as you blow on the tip of him, causing him to wince in desire. Your motions are slobby and wet, and Carmen is still half asleep from your sleeping position not moments before.

“Please…”

You bite back a giggle, looking up at him from your knelt position between his legs. You’ve pulled him to the edge of the bed, and he grips the white sheets in his fists as he tries to restrain himself from coming undone by the way you smile up at him.

“You want me to suck you off him? You wanna feel good baby, you gotta tell me you wanna feel good cause I can't hold back any longer

“Fuck..please make me feel good, you know how to do it, please h-honey” Carmen replies before knocking his head back with a groan when you take the tip of him in your mouth.

You and Carmen weren't exactly experienced at first, you both had never truly held a relationship long enough to progress to that stage, but it had only taken a month before you knew how to have him stuttering thrusting up into you with need and it had taken him 3 weeks to know how to make you cum 9 times a day. What could you say? You had waited long enough.

You don’t waste time as you circle your tongue around the red tip, licking the precum clean from the slit, groaning around him at the sound of his throat letting out strangled moans. You want to take him in entirely, but he was so thick and long you couldn't possibly without getting used to him again.

Carmen loved giving, he could spend hours with your thighs around his shoulders, but there was something special with getting your broody chef to come undone, to be reduced to a puddle at every lick and kiss from you.

You push him deeper, circling your tongue so that it drags flat against his length as you pump the rest of him that you couldn’t yet reach.

“Holy-sh-fuck babygirl, easy, easy” Carmen groans out, and as you flicker your eyes up at him, the vision causes you to sneak a hand down between your thighs. 

Carmen looks down at you with furrowed brows, struggling to sit, grinding and jutting up into your mouth as his blonde hair lays across his forehead sweaty. His cheeks are a rosy crimson, and his tongue pokes out from the corner of his mouth biting down when you catch his blown out almost-black eyes.

You ignore his protests, pushing him further down until you feel him in your throat, constricting the space until it has him groaning out in pleasure. Carmen can’t help thrusting up into your throat, quickly apologising before you shake your head, reaching for his hand to grip your hair, begging him to use you however he wan’t. It’s too much for Carm, he feels like your puffed out cheeks, the tears eager to drip down your cheeks, the rut of your hips trying to find any friction causes the very tight bind to nearly snap in him.

“Fuck, don’t- not gonna last long” Carmen heaves out, gripping your hair until the veins in his arms and neck begin to juttt out.

You continue bopping your head down onto him, gathering the spit and cum and hollowing out your cheeks before taking him out and then in again. Carmen can’t take his eyes off of you, his chest heaving up and down as he watches you entranced.

“You don’t want to cum huh? Am I not making you feel good? Fuck my throat Carm, show me how you want it and i’ll show you how I do” You groan out, looking up at him from under your lashes and it causes Carmen to groan out, before gripping your jaw in his hand, and dragging your tongue back down his length.

Carmen is careful with how he fucks into you, but it’s reverent and heady and full of need, and he finds himself gripping your hair, watching you bop down on his cock until it bumps against your throat, and he feels that tight warmth that surround his sensitive tip.

He’s a mess, a jumble of incoherent swears and half moans of your name as the slick heaviness against your tongue shealths up and down, the mess of cum and saliva dripping from between your lips. 

“S-so fucking, so good, all mine babygirl, you’re all fucking mine” Carmen replies with a growl, as hes thrusts into you grow sloppy, and you press your nails into his thigh, breathing through your nose as Carmen loses himself in the warmth and feel of you, chasing his release without a break.

The tight band deep in him snaps when you constrict around him, and catch his heavy gaze, he screams out your name, jutting up into your throat, slick shooting down as he holds you head against him, and you milk him dry eagerly, taking every last drop he gives you.

You swirl your tongue around him, gently taking him out of your mouth as he winces at the over stimulation, you look up at him, opening your mouth and poking your tongue out, and you don’t miss the low fuck he whispers at the image of you swallowing every last bit of his mess.

You aren’t able to get up yourself before Carmen is dragging you up to him, wiping and kissing away every tear before swallowing you with a heated kiss. Carmen can taste himself on your tongue, manoeuvring your bodies so that he lay against the headboard, with you grinding up against his lap.

“Need to feel you fill me up Carm, I need it so bad” You groan out between your heated kiss, and Carmen grips you against him, his cock hardening again at your words, he always wanted to please you, it was his dying quest, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you like it was nothing.

You line yourself up with him, before sinking onto his length, the both of you breaking apart from your heated kiss to suck in a breath, Carmen leans into the croon of your neck, biting the skin there lightly as the feel of you tight around him gets too much.

You have to grip him, pressing half moons into the contorting muscle of his shoulders and back as you get used to him, before sinking further down with a groan. You felt impossibly tight, walls velvet and soft like caramel as they glided up against him with its slickness.

“You sure you can take it all? Hm darling?” Carmen whispers as he leans over in your ear, so that you slide further down his length, and it glides across a sensitive spot in this new position that causes you to rock your head back with a groan.

“Oh no baby, no no no, eyes on me hm?” Carmen reprimands you, sliding a hand so that he can see the dazed look in your eyes.

“We have the entire day, locked in this house from the snow, and I’m going to fuck you stupid doll” Carmen replies with a grin, before easing out of you and thrusting back into you hard, causing stars to appear in your vision, the white hot pleasure of the beginnings of your orgasm gripping you.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Bee and the Bear, Chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

summary: carmy cooks Bee dinner.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content/eventual smut, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers, food and alcohol mention

wc: 2.7k

an: god i love these two so badddddd. i love their tenderness despite the awkwardness…i love how palpable how much they mean to the other is. PS this isn’t beta’d so if you see something insanely fucked pls let me know! PSS totto’s market is real and located in chicago…highly recommend it!

series masterlist

< | chapter 2: Back in the Beef

You can’t figure out what to wear. You’ve been back and forth, digging through your suitcase like a madwoman and standing in front of the mirror in your childhood room. This crisis is silly, it shouldn’t even be a crisis. Carmy has seen you in more than 80% of your wardrobe. Sure, you’ve gotten clothing for work, some racier things from your bar crawl days in undergrad. You’d brought neither of those categories with you– jeans and sweaters, a polished suit suit for Mikey’s funeral.

But, how do you dress for hanging out with Carmen Berzatto for the first time since you were just a teenager?

The answer is a paradox because its unclearly clear. This isn’t a special occasion and it is decidedly not a date. You’re a faithful woman, one who’s trying so desperately to protect your heart while simultaneously letting yourself have this. It feels pathetic to think about how long you’ve been waiting for a moment like this.

There was a time where missing Carmy completely consumed you. This is your way of letting yourself heal, or maybe it’s just going to make that feeling resurface when you inevitably go back home and history repeats itself. Your thoughts start to grow, mind swirling with doubt when your phone begins to buzz where its sat on your bedside table.

A picture of you and Kyle pops up on the display, his contact name a simple blue heart.

You answer it quietly, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey,” You breathe, falling back into bed, giving yourself a reprieve from staring at every piece of clothing you’d packed.

“You sound tense,” And while he’s bringing it up, there’s no true concern that you can detect in his voice.

“No, not tense at all, just—pretty tired.”

It isn’t a complete lie. Despite feeling wired and on edge about seeing Carmy, there’s a heaviness to your limbs– fatigue from the last few days.

“Oh, are you heading to bed soon?”

You take in a shaky breath. Outright lying to him isn’t an option, you’re a good partner— a faithful partner, so you’ll just be honest. You close your eyes, struggling to keep your voice nonchalant, “Actually I’m getting dinner– well Carmy’s making dinner.”

Silence stretches between the two of you and you open your mouth to say something, anything but Kyle beats you to it.

“First time you’re seeing him since you moved out here, yeah?” He asks quietly. There’s a stillness in his tone that sends a chill down your spine.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up with him. See what’s changed since we were babies.”

“And you still trust him? I mean its been–”

“He’s one of my best friends, Kyle,” You say quickly, before he can voice any of his opinions on Carmy or any of your other friends from home.

He doesn’t understand your bond with Nat or Carmy or Richie— hardly understood why you felt so compelled to come home from Mikey’s funeral when you hadn’t seen him in years. Kyle has no friends from his childhood, it’s just him and the steady, sterile climb into corporate America, full of empty smiles and cold happy hours. He doesn’t understand the warmth that ties you all together no matter how far you go, like the roots of a tree.

“One of your best friends? That you haven’t seen since before you could order your own glass of bourbon?” He challenges, chuckling under his breath.

“He means a lot to me. You know that.”

“How could I forget.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Please, Kyle, it's not like that. It's never been like that. We’re platonic. I know it's weird for you but just– it's nice. To have him back after all these years. After losing Mikey.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know how much that little group of friends means to you even if they all have a weird way of showing it.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I make it home?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Your conversation with Kyle feels like a cold shower. You’d just lied to him and now you’re second guessing everything. Should you really be doing this? Would this just be torture? Is having him in this way worse than not having him at all? Things with Carmy had never been voluntarily platonic.

Your phone buzzes and you think that its a text from Kyle– an overprotective “be careful” or “are you sure?”. To your surprise, its Carmy. Was he canceling? Why did that make your heart ache when you were just rethinking this yourself.

Bear 🤎: Looking forward to tonight. 8 still ok?

You stare at the text for several seconds, unaware of the soft smile that spreads across your face. He still has a contact photo– the two of you together for the last time before going off sitting outside the Adler Planetarium listening to the lakeside waves. Sugar had taken the photo while Mikey and Richie shadow boxed in the parking lot like a couple idiots.

Another text rolls in, pulling you from that memory.

Bear 🤎: We could do it sooner if you get tired early.

You: 8’s good, I still have to get wine.

Bear: See you soon.

You: Soon.

For a moment, you wish that you and Carmy were having lunch– you could take a walk down the Chicago streets, the wind whipping at your cheeks and clearing your head. But it’s nearly 7 and that wouldn’t be the safest thing to do. Finally you dress, settling on jeans and a chunky knit sweater that’s your favorite color. You bid your parents goodbye, ignoring their strangely wide smiles at the mention of Carmy and head for their car. Your favorite little store, Totto’s Market is just around the corner and you park the car and pop inside, needing to get in and out since your forgoed paying the meter.

Wine is an easy pick, one of your favorite whites that’s on the sweeter side. Dessert proves to be a challenge— Totto’s always has an assortment of killer pastries, flavorful ice cream and unique delicacies. You decide to play it safe with something you know Carmy will love: a orange and pistachio scone. He appreciates the brightness of citrusy paired with the earthy, salty pistachio, not to mention the buttery, crumbly scone. You’re out in less than 10 minutes and head towards Carmy’s.

When you pull up to his apartment building you do pay the parking meter, the hopeful part of you paying for a few hours. It could be something quick, dinner could be done and plated, awkward and over in no time. But you hope that that spark is still there, that he’s missed you just as much as you missed him.

He appears at the door pulling you out of your thoughts. He’s in a white t-shirt as always, but this one looks pristine with no wrinkles and is tucked into a brown pair of dickies instead of his usual messy jeans. He smiles bright, his eyes crystal blue, “Hey, c’mon in.”

“Yeah, sure,” You say awkwardly, following him inside.

“Whatcha got here? Lemme see,” He says, taking the bag from you once the two of you make it into the kitchen– you hope he doesn’t notice how slick your hands are, how they stuck slightly to the handles of the paper bag.His grin widens as he pulls out the bottle of wine you got, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah? You’re not just humoring me.”

“I’m not, it’s a great pair with dinner. Sit,” He points to one of the bar stools tucked under the counter and you do, hoisting yourself up.

“What’s this?” He holds up the pastry bag, before opening it and inhaling. “Whoa.”

“Orange and pistachio scones. I didn’t know what you were making so I thought I’d go light for dessert.”

He gives you a nod of approval and sets down the bag, bending down to get a pot from the lower cabinets.

“I get to watch, hmm?” You ask, surprised but excited.

You hadn’t anticipated that he’d start cooking after you got there. Sure, he’d asked you to hang out but since then you’ve been wondering— is he doing this out of guilt? Out of pity? It had you thinking that he’d want to spend a limited amount of time with you, even with his enthusiasm. Your brain cycles through that back and forth, basking in his eagerness and questioning it many times in the span of minutes. But now you’re here. Now he’s cooking for you and those voices are a little softer in your head, overwhelmed by Carmy.

He shrugs, shifting awkwardly, “Thought I’d do it this way, for old time sake.”

“For old time sake,” You repeat quietly, watching as he starts to putter around the kitchen.

He heads for the fridge first, grabbing a couple wine glasses out of his freezer and pouring you both a glass before he gets started on prep. There’s soft music playing that you finally notice as you settle in, the gentle picking of guitar, accompanied by a piano melody.

“Actually…you still remember how to dice?” He teases, glancing over his shoulder at you, as he opens a container of eggs.

“Taught by the best,” You hop up, bringing your glass of wine with you as you join him at the prep station.

He looks smug for a moment before his brows knit together, “Wait— didn’t Mikey teach you how to dice?”

“I did say the best.”

He tries to look put out with you but the edges of his mouth twitch begging to smile. He nudges your shoulder, “Bull.”

“I think Mikey would disagree.”

“‘Course he would.” He’s quiet for a moment, squinting over at you, formulating his next words, “Where were you— when you?”

You take in a deep breath, shoulders dropping lower than before upon your exhale, “Uh, at work actually. Showing a new client around the gallery.”

“Sugar?”

“Richie. Sugar was…well she was telling you I’d imagining. Or falling apart. Both probably.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, working at your respective stations. You glance over at him a few times, wondering if you should say what’s on your mind or leave it be.

“Say it.”

“Huh?” You finish chopping, looking up from the cutting board.”

“Whatever’s on your mind. You can say it.”

Incredible how after all this time apart, he can still read you like an open book. You shouldn’t be surprised since you can do the same to him…but what you’ve felt for him has always been different than what he felt for you. Right?

You sigh, shrugging a bit as you gather the onions you’ve successfully diced up in a pile, “Oh, uh, I was just…I realized I hadn’t said I’m sorry. About Mikey, I mean.”

He’s quiet for a moment, though his hands don’t stop working until he looks over at you, “Me too. For you. For all of us.”

“He’s your brother, Carm, you don’t have to extend me sympathy.”

“He meant a lot to you, too.”

You nod, staying quiet; there’s no use in arguing with that logic. He thanks you for dicing and tells you to go get comfortable on the couch while he finishes the rest. You protest insisting there's more you can do to help, but he gives you a no nonsense look pointing to the couch. You hold up your hands in surrender, grabbing your wine glass before taking a seat. From here you can still see him from the waist up and you watch him move around the kitchen. His quick, graceful way makes you realize that you would have just been in his way, slowing him down. As time passes his apartment fills with the scent of herbs, spicy chilis, aromatic tomatoes, and toasty bread.

Dinner is ready in no time at all– he isn’t an award winning chef for nothing– and you return to the counter when he plates the food at the bar. The two of you take turns talking, him first about the special changes he’s made to Mikey’s family spaghetti recipe, you about how well the gallery is flourishing, how its taking up too much of your time and that you haven’t gotten to create as much as you wanted in the coming months.

Your stomach is overtly full by the time you take the last bite, and you wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin as you say, “I owe you for this, this was incredible.”

Carmy shrugs it off, “You’ve had this a million times.”

“Not from your hands. Not like this, all those tweaks you made shine through.”

It’s impossible to deny the flush that stains his cheeks but you do anyway, sparing your heart. “My hands aren’t special.”

You knock his shoulder with your own, tone teasing as you say, “Sure they are, they’re attached to you aren’t they?”

Carmy finds himself speechless, unable to do anything but stare at you in a mixture of shock and bashfulness. That soft pink blush deepens, and the plain evidence of your effect on him has your heart skipping.

You clear your throat, looking away from his gaze to fiddle with your fork, “I actually have something for you, give you an excuse to see me one more time.”

“I don’t need an excuse to see you.”

“Carmy,” You say knowingly and he dips his head a little in defeat.

“That’s the past. It shouldn’t have happened and– I’m sorry. Y’know, I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softens, and you reach out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly for a moment, “Don’t—like you said it's the past. I need to call in a favor so give me two days? Friday night?”

He melts under your touch, looking over at you with a soft smile, “Friday night.

“I’ll pick you up,” You offer.

“That much of a surprise, huh?”

“We can’t all cook the surprise, sometimes location is all a girl can have.”

“You’ve got more than that. Way more than that.”

“Oh really?” You roll your eyes playfully before meeting his gaze— its heart stopping. Sobering.

His eyes pierce into you, down to the softest part of your heart, the part only ever reserved for him. “Yeah,” He breathes roughly.

When had you gotten so close to him? You can smell his scent, worn leather and cigarettes, a hint of some citrusy cologne that he dabs behind his ears and the slope of his neck. His eyes are impossible to escape, a deep clear blue full intricacies you can’t look away from. Carmy’s just as entranced as you, drawn to you like a bear is to sweet honey. His thumb brushes your own, and you shiver, a soft jagged breath leaving you at his warm touch.

The spell is broken by the shrill of your phone, a telltale ringtone that has guilt blooming in your chest immediately. It’s Kyle.

Both of you lean away from each other quickly and you reach for your bag on the counter, fishing out your phone. “Sorry, it’s Kyle,” You glance at Carmy nervously, holding up your phone awkwardly before you answer.

He sees the heart by Kyle’s name and his own sinks into his stomach, “No, no, you’re good. All good.”

Carmy’s head feels as if it's about to burst, swirling a million miles a minute though he looks no different on the outside. Kyle? Who the fuck was Kyle? He was this out of the loop, had put so much space between the two of you that he doesn’t even know that you’re seeing someone? How long have you been together? Did you live with him? Did you…love him? Want to spend your life with him? Why would Sugar set him up like this— set you up like this, if you had someone?

He listens to you talk, the light that has been shining in his eyes from the moment you stepped into his apartment dimming with each word he hears you speak.

“Hey, honey. No, no, I’m just about to leave. Well, he didn’t start until I got here. Yes, I’ll call you when I’m home. I will. Love you too. Ok, bye.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, he just gets worried about me.”

“I’d worry about you too.” After a beat he murmurs, “I do.”

“I worry about you too,” You whisper shyly.

“Nothing to worry about here, Bee,” He struggles to keep his tone nonchalant.

The strain in his voice has you looking up at him. His eyes are cloudy, sad. He’s trying to keep it together as always and the sight has your will crumbling. You lean closer again, raising your hand to cup his cheek so that he has to meet your eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, Carmen. You know that, right?”

He swallows loudly, unable to hold your eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. Nodding he places his hand over yours, rubbing it gently, “I know. But it’s easier that way. For all of us.”

Before you can formulate response he gives your hand one last squeeze and rises to his feet. “I’ll pack up some leftovers for you.”

And just like that, the moment is gone. That little glimpse of your Carmy is overshadowed by the one he’s become.

| > chapter 4: Like a Bee to Nectar

18+ carmy taglist: @treefingers , @mrsdominickstark, @princess-of-fanfics, @whore-for-murdock, @xxxstormyninixxx, @dreamingwithlens, @thecraziestcrayon, @jam1esl0v4, @lilylovelyxo, @jadeittic, @jotarokuj0, @bunnysthngs, @gcidrvsh, @mistalli, @luvr-bunnyy, @s3xymoonman, @cosmicspacewitch, @khena, @r0s3mm, @recklessgiraffelife, @i-am-typing, @salinaiacono6

If you ask to be added to the taglist but didn’t verify you’re 18+ you will not be added!

[yannaryartside]

Sydney Adamu, the dilemma of the virtuous character

So, for me, the biggest question about Sydney's fate is not "Would the Bear (the restaurant and Carmy) break Sydney?" this may not even be about her relationship with Carmy, and the fact that in this partnership lay the last chances for her to accomplish her dreams.

But "How would she change because of it?"

A breaking point is something that can happen; what defines the character is what happens after the breaking, how they will mold themselves because of what happened, and how they will reinvent themselves.

The culinary world (and many others) glorifies toxicity in the name of the arts and personal growth. Sydney doesn't agree with any of that; she said in the first episodes that she wanted change for her benefit and the people around her. Carmen will now be exactly the kind of boss Sydney already disliked deeply. And I really doubt this whole thing will end up in Sydney becoming more "like Carmy," to win the challenges of the future, even if there is a reason why Carmy, with his temper and obsession, is the kind of personality the culinary world needs to support. No, Sydney has to win, precisely because of how much "not like Carmy, in his toxicity" she is. She has to be a different type of beast than the Bear.

Sydney could be classified as the "moral compass" of the show. She implemented the changes needed to make the beef a workable place, even if Carmy instructed them (and didn't want to deal with that himself). She gave Marcus inspiration and Tina encouragement. She gave everyone discipline. She was the one trying to establish a change in a system (the dysfunctional family) that was deeply stuck in its ways) Because of that, being perceived as less strong, she was harshly rejected. The same happens with Pete; he is all sweetness when everybody is accustomed to everything but that.

Moral compass characters, like Ted Lasso or Capitan America, and now Sydney, are normally introduced in a world that is very different from their values, and because of that, the world rejects them. The purpose of these characters is to bring change, but what happens to the character itself?

The most common solution is that the character will doubt their belives, fight an adversary, and then recognize why these values were so fundamental to them in the first place, and will come out more sure of them than before.

So yeah, get ready for a beast of a totally different nature to rule that kitchen. Sydney Adamu herlsef.

[fifteenminutes-if]

Screaming fans. Blinding stage lights. A multitude of camera flashes.

It's all you've ever wanted. It's all you've ever worked for.

So where did you go wrong?

You were always told you had the X factor.

Something indescribable. Something exceptional.

Perhaps you doubted the truth to those words when you took in your rag-tag group of bandmates in your high school music room. But, your first performance together–for a crowd–was electric.

And you've been pursuing that same feeling ever since.

Now, with a recording contract, a debut album, an EP, and a #1 Billboard hit under your belt, your band is gearing up for the biggest album release of the year. With major publicity and curiosity from fans and critics alike, you can feel the potential thrumming beneath your skin. You're on the edge of a precipice. You're going to be a star.

Until the shocking truth hits the tabloids and–eventually–major news outlets.

Your career falls apart before you in a matter of days.

Your manager resigns, the media turns against you, your fans wage war against each other as lines are drawn in the sands of stardom.

You become a pariah.

How will you rebuild your legacy, and what will you sacrifice to reach the top once again?

Fifteen Minutes follows an artist in the music industry who is on the cusp of a meteoric rise in fame until a leaked scandal lands their reputation in the grave. A story about the ugly underbelly of fame, our glaring mortality, and the way love fails to save us from ourselves. Rated 18+ for explicit language, substance use (and abuse), death, sexual content, and mild violence.

Choose the scandal that ruins your character's career!

Customize your superstar's pronouns, gender, name, stage name, appearance, celebrity persona, their engagement with their fanbase, and more.

Make choices that affect public perception, headlines and the media narrative.

Create your character's previous and future discography, including choosing the genre(s) your character commands and their musical influences.

Deal with the aftermath of a career in ruins and decide on its trajectory/how your character rebuilds their tarnished reputation (if they choose to do so at all).

Romance (or befriend) a colourful cast of characters–all with varying degrees of proximity to fame and obscurity.

[THE PUBLICITY STUNT ◦ primary RO] MADDOX, 27, M/F An internationally beloved megastar with a media target on their back. A long trail of broken hearts and sordid deeds follow them, but their talent overshadows their attitude enough for those in the industry to turn the other way. For now. Caustic, jaded, and charismatic enough to get exactly what they want. Fresh out of a public breakup, they're acting out more than ever and the bitter taste of fame in their mouth might just kill them faster than their long list of enemies. RO Routes: FWB PR relationship or PR relationship with feelings involved. (Engaging in a PR relationship with Maddox is a mandatory plot point, but does not prevent MC from engaging in romance with other characters)

[THE INDUSTRY SWEETHEART ◦ primary RO] CARMEN BAILEY, 30, F ◦ she/her The antithesis to MC—a pop star that rose to fame in her teen years and has maintained relevancy well into her late twenties. Carmen Bailey is the golden girl. Gracious, kind, and praised for being family-friendly yet edgy enough to capture both old and young demographics alike, Carmen holds tightly to her image at the cost of everything else in her life. Sometimes, it's difficult to tell whether Carmen herself knows the difference between her image and herself.

[THE RECLUSIVE SOCIALITE ◦ primary RO] MATEO EL AMRANI, 25, M ◦ he/him Born to a wealthy, legendary family within the heart of Hollywood, Mateo shuns the limelight that comes with his heritage at any given opportunity. Unfortunately, the mystery surrounding him keeps the cameras and the public intrigued and hungry. Only close with his oldest brother, Elias, and has a strained relationship with the rest of his family. Often seen as quiet and emotionless by the media, Mateo in reality feels very deeply and desperately wants to know and be known by those he loves. RO Routes: Ex-friends, ex-lovers, or just acquaintances.

[THE JOURNALIST ◦ primary RO] ROBIN FRASER, 32, M/F A shrewd investigative journalist with the ability to destroy a career or launch someone into stardom. Has a history of major exposés and reliable pop culture predictions under their belt. Needless to say, their words hold a whole lot of power. They value truth above all else, no matter how ugly it may be and while they're privy to the manipulations and machinations of the upper echelons, they're not willing to play the game.

[THE EX BAND MEMBER ◦ primary RO] VAL PARK, 24, M/F A whirlwind of a person that has taken Hollywood by storm since their abrupt departure from your life. Ambitious with a cutting tongue, Val is persistent in their chase for fame. Tends to be reckless, hot-headed, and easily provoked with a deep need for independence and creative freedom. While they're not everyone's cup of tea, they've charmed the right people to gain entry into opportunities that you've only dreamed of. RO Routes: Ex-rivals or ex-friends (can opt to have had a crush on Val in the past). Val was in love with MC in both routes.

DEMO TBA

[sundaechaos]

sydcarmy fics recs (i love-love this)

hi! hello! so, i was thinking that i read most of the fics on the tag of sydcarmy on ao3 and i need to share my favorites ones (and bc i keep forgetting to add to bookmark, so maybe is better here)

(not specific order, i just love to read and everything in the sydcarmy tag is perfect; if you know the tumblres or twitter dm me I'll put here)

pink for the au's

purple for the canon-divergence

orange for multiworks

quick note: most of this are the very first fics i read when the hiperfixation with sydcarmy entered to my life, enjoy!!!!!!!!!

You Were Bigger Than The Whole Sky by @sofaroffbway

A conversation with her father forces Sydney to confess the only thing she is still hiding from Carmy. He needs to know. They are getting married after all. | #finish

Hands Full of Plates by @Thesuncameout

The first year of The Bear, through the eyes of its Chef de Cuisine and Executive Chef. | #finish

Normal People by @cryobabyy

What is he to her anyway? He feels like her boss when he tells her what to do. When he doesn’t break eye contact as he asks for her input on the new menu, he feels like a business partner. When his hand ghosts against her lower back and his thumb slips under her sweatshirt, it’s an accident. He was just trying to get by; just a polite nudge, right? (Little blurbs of Carmy and Syd falling in love and being idiots about it) | #ongoing(please, come back)

Oyster Knife by @purposechef

Sydney Adamu seeks answers. / note: and every fic written by purposechef, but this have a special place in my heart, is everything that i love of sydney and carmy. | #finish

Take Care by @purposechef

Ingredients: - 1 culinary school dropout - 1 recently fired CDC - 48 hours in New York City

Steps: 1. Have a panic attack; drop out of culinary school. 2. Accidentally become the head food critic of the New York Times. 3. Write a review that gets the CDC of Eleven Madison Park fired. 4. Let sit until you have an emotionally unwieldy mess. | #finish

The Wild, Wild Berry by @Blissymbolics

The elderberries were undercooked, rendering them toxic. She finds Carmen helpless on the bathroom floor. Her fingertips tingle with the desire to comb his sweat-drenched hair. It’s embarrassing; it’s beneath her. But still, there’s something sweet in his weakness. He trusts her to keep the world running in his absence, and feed him when his appetite returns. | #finish

Fundamentals for the Fun and Mental by @bioloyg

It's been weeks since Carmen Berzatto found himself locked in the walk-in on the opening night of The Bear, but if you asked him, he'd tell you it felt like it happened yesterday. If you asked anyone else... well, they'd tell you these past few weeks have felt like a lifetime. Which is exactly why Sydney and Natalie decide to send Carmen on vacation. | #finish

The Million Little Things by @peachybunnybabie

The relationship of Carmen and Sydney. | #multiworks

Don't leave me now, you might love me back by @adogwithabirdatyour_door

for you i am a child, believing: It’s been a while since something like this happened.

snow is outside but i'm by your fire (i feel all the love you bring): they're always staring.

faithful friends who are dear to us (will be near to us once more): Or, the first time Sydney really felt like part of the family.

it's a lot to ask of me (to believe in you): In the midst of an early-relationship fight, Carmy gets sick. Sydney has a lot to think about.

kill the doubt that strangles my self worth (paint the picture that i swore i heard): Hosting a dinner party stirs up old memories for Carmy

you change all the lead, sleeping in my head: The question slips out without her permission, spoken with the same candor she’d used to ask him if he wanted a dog.

you say you wanna stand by my side (darlin' your head's not right): Sydney is a supporting gf.

To be continued...(like Storer playing with me at the final of s3)

[ciaomarie]

Part 5: What Then?

It's finally Sydney's one year work anniversary! A little slice of fluff to tide us over. Quick summary of the last 4 parts- Its been about 5-6 months since The Bear opened, the slowburn is slowburning,, and Carmy wants to make Syd an shareholder. Please excuse grammar/spelling. My contacts are fizzling out.

Sydney woke up with cheerful expectation before her alarm rang. Today was her work anniversary or “workversary”. A year ago, she strode into The Beef praying that this was her chance to make something great with one of the best chefs in the industry. Then in a couple short months The Beef had closed, the process of The Bear began, and since it’s opening her hopes of creating lifelong memories for people and of obtaining a star seemed possible. The dream was becoming more concrete every day.

She got ready eagerly and grabbed the garment bag with her freshly dry-cleaned custom chef’s coat. More than just the significance of the day, Syd felt like something special was going to happen. Carmy had brought up this anniversary almost every day for the past week. Obviously, he was hiding something, and she was ravenous to know what it was. She tried every truth extraction tactic she could think of, from feigning nonchalance to making him a gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwich, to shameless pouting. The last almost worked, but Richie walked by interrupting her performance. Carm snapped out of her spell and from that moment refused to hint about today. Richie teased her ever since and even last night he left a voice note impersonating her honeyed murmur “Carmy, pleasssseee tell me…I’d wouldn’t hide anything from you” followed by retching noises.

Oh, well. She liked good surprises.  

The morning was uneventful, but during staff lunch Carmy announced that it was Sydney’s work anniversary and Marcus brought out a sublime vertical carrot cake for everyone. He even made an additional small cake for her to take home and share with her father. It was so divine that if the cake was all she got, she would have been thankful, and she told him as much.

“Marcus, you are incredible! If you ever need a kidney, just make me this,” she moaned.

“I’ll remember that chef” he answered scratching his neck and bashfully ducking back into the kitchen. His crush on her was mostly snuffed out the night of Friends and Family, but occasionally those old feelings resurfaced.

As Sydney reached the peak of a blissful sugar high Carm asked her to join him in Natalie’s office. First a cake and now the mystery reveal!

They asked her to take the seat of honor, aka the comfortable chair, behind the desk. Nat looked pleased and relaxed, while Carmy was harder to read. His expression was a mixture of agitation and gladness as he drummed his fingers on his knee. For a moment they sat in silence.

“What is it?” Sydney blurted.

“Carm, tell her!” Natalie ordered with an exasperated smile.  

Taking a deep breath Carmen gushed forth,

“Sydney, I don’t even know where I’d be, where The Bear would be, without you. You put in a crap ton of hours without pay during the reno, you kill it in the kitchen every day, we created the menu together, the staff respects you, you kept everything running when I was sick and…and…we want to give you a share in the restaurant.”

Sydney slumped back in the chair, speechless and gazed at them her pupils dilated like saucers.

Natalie went on to explain further, handing her a contract.

“If you accept, your share would be equivalent to Carm and I. Of ‘course none of us will see additional income until we pay back Uncle Cicero, but we didn’t want to wait to make it clear that you are essential to The Bear, to our family.”

Carmy held his breath. He had been elated about this for days, but now he doubted. Yes, Sydney wanted a star, and she loved the work, but would she want to be tied to The Bear, and by extension to him?

Sydney sat up, clutching the contract, and shook her head in amazement.

“You’re serious? A share? An equal share?”

“Yeah, of ‘course” Carmy replied, his ocean tinted eyes imploring her to believe it.

“Okay” she conceded softly, her vision blurred with tears, and she stood up to embrace her now legal partners.

Natalie swooped in first with one of her famous hugs and whispered, “Thank you.”

Then Carm overwhelmed with relief pulled her close, his lips slightly brushing her cheek.

Just then someone tapped on the door and Natalie opened it. It was Uncle Cicero eating a slice of Marcus’s cake.

“Hey, Uncle Cicero, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Natalie enquired.

“Well, my lawyer said he sent the contract over this morning, so I just wanted to officially welcome our new partner to the business and to the family! Sydney you’re a class act and this one couldn’t have picked better,” Uncle Cicero answered with a wink at Carmy. Then he beckoned for Syd to give him a hug, which she did her face hot with a mixture of happiness and self-consciousness. She felt like she was an honorary Berzatto.

“Well, I got to head out. We’ll talk again soon Sydney,” Cicero said warmly and beckoned Carm to follow him.

As they walked through the restaurant and out to his car, Cicero praised his nephew for making The Bear a success so far, raved about the cake and most importantly for making their monthly installments. Then he said something very strange.

“Carmen, you’re doing this right with that girl. Wise to get the business side squared away first. Oh, and I got a ring guy, he could get you a good deal.”

Carmy was jolted from the hazy cloud of contentment that enveloped him since Sydney accepted the offer.

“Why would I need a ring guy?”

“Hey, I know young people do things differently these days. Some wait for years, but when you’re ready to get engaged I got a connect.” Cicero explained.

 “Well, uh, Sydney and I aren’t dating,” Carmy responded with a shade of longing in his voice.

“You broke up!?”

“We’ve never dated.”

“Then who were you seeing right before the restaurant opened?”

“Claire.”

“Who’s Claire?”

“She was from our old neighborhood; It didn’t work out. I was Alex Gonzalez during a lot of the reno. Why did you think I was dating Sydney?”

Cicero cocked his head, scrutinizing Carm with the intensity of an owl. That look would make Mike Tyson falter.

“Why do you think I thought you two were dating?”

Carmy blushed with a crooked smile, rubbing his chin.

Cicero sighed, got into his car, and rolled down the window.

“Don’t overthink it nephew. I could’ve been married to the love of my life if I wasn’t such a know-it-all manichino (dummy) in my youth.”

Carmy blinked, confused.

“But you are married.”

“Yeah, and she’s great. Not the love of my life though.”

With those words Cicero waved and took off.

Carmy stood for a minute to clear his mind before heading back inside. He knew Sydney was probably recovered from shock and waiting for him with dozens of questions about their new arrangement.

Also, would another hug be out of order?

[thegamingcatmom]

Guess who? Spoiler: me, its me and I come with a question(s) bc it is 3am and my mind can't shut up (:

So I think this was mentioned previously in another ask or post but I don't remember if it went much into detail. My question is about mates and separation. It is said (dont remember if canon said something about it) that vampires have a hard time being away from their mates and I would like to go deeper into this, know your thoughts on the matter.

Like, how bad it is? How long can they stay away from their mate? Is it minutes, hours, days? Is it painful, like physically? What do they feel, like I think despair, anxiety? Are there vampires who have a better time than others?

And finally how each sister individually is regarding this 'separation' situation? How clingy are they, if they are that is? How do they handle it? Do they call a lot? Text? (They know what phones are right? Ancient creatures they are :p)

Thanks as always for the answers❤️ (this is so long and i probs forgot something but i cant think so im gonna try to sleep xD)

Hiii! <3

Totally relatable! 3am has, unfortunately, become the time my brain works on overdrive as well. Which means I usually have to quit when I feel like I'm making actual progress, because I do need to sleep at some point. 😭

Right so, I think vampires defo have a hard time being away from their mates. I don't think it's actual pain in the sense of being "physical," but I reckon it very much feels like that for them.

I also think that, just like us humans, they have different ways of dealing with that pain. Some seek the company of their other coven members, some prefer to be alone, some (try to) play it cool and don't let anything show, and so on.

With that said, how long they´re able to stay away also varies and depends on multiple factors, I´d say. It´s not just their own personality and their way of dealing with things that plays into it, but also the cause of the separation. I think the latter plays a rather big part, actually. Like, if it´s for a "good" cause then it might be a lot easier for them to endure, I imagine.

...Y´know, this kinda reminds me of Carmen and El and the things I have planned for them in The Sisters, because separation might actually become a recurring theme for them (we see a snippet of that in the upcoming chapter.) I haven´t quite decided yet how far I wanna take it, but your ask kinda makes me wanna explore how Carmen might cope with a possible long-term separation. 💔🥺

As for what they´re feeling when separated from their mate:

JOKES ASIDE THOUGH-

Truly mated/bonded vampires (thinking of James and Victoria here cause I have my doubts about those two) are like fitting puzzle pieces, shaped to align perfectly with the other. If one breaks away, you won´t have a complete picture. Other puzzle pieces might fit with some force, but it will always result in a crooked picture because it´s just not meant to be.

With that said:

I think it´s agony. Like a part of you is missing. A big part. Like, half your body, to be precise.

As for the sisters:

(yes, they do know what phones are, lmao)

(...valid question though)

Tanya would probably cope best. Or, well, she´d be the most convincing at pretending she´s alright. She´s a leader and, in my head, that´s like its "own" personality. If the situation calls for it, a switch is flipped in her head - topdog leader mode activated.

Ofc, the separation from her mate is more of a personal challenge and probably her biggest one yet. Also because it´s one she´s never had to face before meeting MC. But I still think she would handle it a lot better than her sisters...at least on the outside. Like I said, it´s like a switch being flipped, a "mental shield," if you will. She will put on a brave face, act like nothing´s out of the ordinary. She will do her damn best to function, because that´s what she always does in times of hardship. It´s what leaders do.

It might not be the healthiest way to cope with things, but it´s what she knows and feels comfortable with.

…Besides, you can bet your ass there´ll be at least 50 calls, 30 FaceTimes, and 250 messages per day.

A good leader always stays on top of things.

Kate is a lot softer than she lets on, so I think she´d actually struggle the most with being separated from her mate. She would probs try and avoid her family for the most part. As a former warrior, the last thing she wants is to be seen as "weak." Like with Tanya, it´s not the healthiest way to cope with it, but there´s still this thinking that feelings get you killed on the battlefield, y´know? There´s just some things and habits we can´t shake, no matter how hard we try. Kate being reluctant to show any kind of "weakness" in front of others is one such habit. She´s gotten a lot better at allowing and showing those feelings since meeting MC for sure, but when MC´s gone? I imagine she´d be quick to fall back into that spiral.

So yeah, you´ll probs find her in the woods, sparring with the trees or smt to get her mind off things, to distract herself from the immense distress she´s feeling over her mate being gone.

As for contacting her mate:

Hm...I´m actually torn on that one. On one hand, you have the battle-hardened warrior who refuses to show feelings. On the other hand, you have the moonstruck sap who turns into mush the moment her mate is involved in any shape or form.

With that said:

Kate would struggle with exactly that, lol. Like, it´s a constant inner battle between who she was and who she has become since meeting MC. So I can imagine her sitting somewhere, glaring at her phone, doing her best to keep herself from typing in those damn numbers or writing out that stupid message because warriors don´t show "weakness."

...She caves, eventually. And both she and MC are damn glad she did, that lovable dork.

Irina would cope better than Kate, but her struggles would still be more obvious because she doesn´t usually hide her feelings like Kate does. On the contrary, she pretty much wears her heart on her sleeve, which is also why she´s the only one (out of the sisters) who feels 100% comfortable with confiding in others about how she feels. She usually goes to Carmen when she seeks comfort or guidance, like pretty much everyone else in the coven, lol. So, when it comes to dealing with that pain, I´d say Irina defo has the healthiest way of doing it.

She also has the healthiest call/message count btw, lmao. She´s not as overbearing as Tanya (nobody is, lel), and also not as stone-faced as Kate. She gives a quick call or leaves a heartfelt message here and there, just checking in, y´know? Sometimes they´re short and sweet, other times they´re literal novels in which she proclaims her undying love over and over and over and over and over and-

...I mean, there are times where she just...she gets carried away a bit, which usually ends with her dropping everything to go and seek out her mate.

...Her mate, who went to the supermarket for a quick errand.

I mean, listen-

In the end, I think it all comes down to why the sisters have been separated from MC. They´ll probs cope a lot better if they know the separation is short-lived.

...Or maybe not, lol. *points to Irina*

.

.

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Thanks a lot for your ask! Always stoked when those pop up in my inbox. 💋

#keepthethirstalive #keepthedenalisalive

[sgiandubh]

And until we meet again...

Last Thursday evening, The London Irish Centre organized a two-hour celebration of Sinéad O' Connor's life and legacy, which was attended by C, if we trust both her carefully worded post and her stans' fawning all over Twitter:

For an event of such amplitude it got fully booked in less than six hours from its announcement, there is surprisingly little available content on socials. Bear in mind I even did check their IG, and found only this short reel:

C is nowhere to be seen, either on stage or in attendance and I highly doubt they wouldn't have included her somehow. And I really paid attention, looked and ogled and took off my glasses and almost pulled my laptop screen near the tip of my nose. To no avail.

On such short notice, the Embassy/Centre would include anyone of note available and in attendance, by the way: I know very well how it's done. These happen on the regular, in my world, and I am often asked to help. LOL.

However, in all fairness, I also spotted this (sorry for the very crude/non-existent editing skills and the very ugly red arrow: it's almost half past four in the morning, here):

If McSideburns went there, he might have gone by himself. How convenient, to send the PA, when you are probably somewhere else entirely.

Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego?

To be honest, I could not care less, as long as it's not with that greasy-haired social zero. I know what I know, and it is enough.

Maybe our super-sleuths could spot her, in which case my world would not be shattered. At all. So I simply leave this here and open for debate:

What do you think?

Back to my #Jottings and happy to have one more day off, for sure.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Here's the promised yapfest!

The Yurodiviye showing up again in T corp was a suprise, though given both how it seems to be themed after the Victorian era and ots famously horrible working conditions, it does make sense in context. Though I don't think we'll be getting another peak at Sonia anytime soon - or at least anywhere in the main portion of the event.

The first and third cantos both set up major players in what's to come, namely Hermann ans Demian. I believe that Sonia fits in with this theme as well given the implication that he has a mark of cain and how he obviously has unfinished buisness with the company, or Rodya at the very least.

In the background, theres a sound of a clock ticking in a lot of the music. Obviously in reference to T corp's whole thing regarding it - but it does seem different from Dante's slowest ticking sfx. It does aldo remind me of how T corp's collectors were said to signal their arrival with the ticking of a clock, and we see several of them during the trailer.

For the skills, it seems Hong Lu has a gloom skill 1? and Ryōshū has a sloth guard and a possibly two coin lust skill.

Looking back at the teaser, it seems as if the reason for fighting both the Yurodiviye and T corp goons seems to be that 'Special Investigator badge' mentioned there, as we are looking for 'time killers', we may end up uncovering a traior in one of those two organisations.

Ons of the NPCs - second I believe - seems to be wearing a kind of Vivtorian bobby's uniform [I clocked it only cause some cops still wear 'em here] so there may be a police questioning as part of the investigation.

As to the time killing part specifically - given how in the modern day what we mean by the phrase may have some overlap with Victorian ideas of idleness, which was frowned upon quite heavily, I do wonder how exactly this time would be 'killed'. Though I doubt it has anything to do with Dante's abilities - neither the sapling of light or rewinding - as neither truely 'take time out of circulation'. Plus, Faust may have some sort of way to extract time from Mephi's food, that possibly being what allows for the Sinners to rewind in the first place.

It may end up as part of the aftermath of Catherine getting 404'ed, as its clear from the Sinners having fuzzy memories that the erasure process was imperfect, it leaving more resuduals behind makes sense I think.

As for Faust's E.G.O., it may connect with the Fauncil theory in quite a fun way. In her corrosion animation, we see a bunch of clocks all turning at the same time, each slightly different in their presentation - with the central one seemingly inspired by the Doomsday Clock justt like Dante's head. This one I believe represents our Faust, while all the others represent her mirror world selves, all slightly different yet doing the same thing.

It is particularly interetsing as the doomsday clock counts down to human made catastrophe - usually nuclear war - but here it may represent how she will become her own downfall, or how something she makes may doom many others in her stead.

Glitch effects were previously seen in both the BL event when Dante starts overheating and in canto 6 when Carmen gives Heathcliff a lil talk. Im sure there's others but those are what I remembered. 

And I believe that was all I wished to say, good day to you!

o7 These are all nice little things to note down.