#baker reader<3

February, 2022

Carmen had been used to change. In his line of work, you really had no choice on what was going on. You kept your head down and just pushed on as hard as you could. Luckily for him, his hard work didn't go unrecognized. 

His sacrifices didn't matter, the mental torment he put himself through wasn't relevant. He was at the top in the culinary world, how could he possibly want to put that aside to focus on himself? In his mind, that was selfish. It was “some pussy shit” he’d mutter under his breath when things got loud.

Until he got that call.

Mikey was dead. The brother he’d done all of this work for – all that work to give him the biggest middle finger in the world – was dead. He couldn't process it, how could you process somebody else's death when you haven't even faced your own?

When Carmen found out that Mikey had left The Beef to him, he felt like ripping out his hair. He felt a strange obligation to keep the shop running, only causing him further anguish when he left the high-end culinary world. What was he doing? He was leaving the one place that gave him any sort of satisfaction for a rundown sandwich shop in downtown Chicago.

Whatever, he’d manage. Right?

Summer, 2022

You moved in. Carmen didn't mean to stare, but as he scrubbed down the counter in the front of The Beef he couldn't help himself. Things were closing down left and right in that side of town, how could he not be nosy? Especially when a young woman was carrying boxes twice her size into an empty building. He stopped wiping, slinging his towel over his shoulder and leaning on the counter to watch.

You were smiling as somebody carried in boxes with you, making jokes maybe. You were human, something that he couldn't force himself to be. You were happy, something he hadn't been in years.

A loud yell was heard behind Carmen, the slap on his shoulder was what made him shudder. It was just Richie, making him scoff and back away from him.

“Whatcha starin’ at, cousin?” Richie asked, trying to lean down and follow Carmen’s original line of sight.

Carmen shrugged, grabbing the cloth from his shoulder and starting to wipe the surface again. “Spaced out, fuck-o. Don't you have a job to do?”

Richie laughed and raised his eyebrows, putting his hands up in surrender as Carmen walked past him. The towel was left somewhere near Marcus’ station while Carmen quickly took off his apron and stuffed it in his locker. 

“I’m heading out, cousin! Gotta run an… an, errand. Or some shit.” he muttered the last part to himself as he quickly made his way out of the crumby restaurant. He lit a cigarette and squatted against the painted brick wall behind him. He took a drag from the cigarette and sighed, standing up again and walking towards your building. He waited for a clearing in the traffic to run through and threw his cigarette at somebody’s tire. On accident, he swears it.

He watched as the large van holding your belongings drove away when he hopped up to the sidewalk, cautiously walking up to the doorway to your building. When he was finally standing in it, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

You were a bit startled, eyes widening at the sound of somebody being there when you turned around. “Oh, hello.” You smiled politely, putting the large pot in your hands back into the equally large cardboard box.

Carmen stuttered a bit, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his hand hang there as he stared at you. “You uh, we're neighbors.”

“What?”

“No I mean like-” he sighs, laughing at himself a little bit, “I own, the uh… restaurant across from this place. It was uh, well it's not actually mine.”

You raise an eyebrow and quirk a smile. “What do you mean ‘not actually mine’?” you say while using your fingers as air quotes.

“It was my brother's.”

You heard the “was” part of it and you decided just not to ask. That might've been a heavy topic, nobody just gives somebody a restaurant for no reason. You nod and your smile falters for a second, putting your hands on your hips.

Carmen can feel the awkward tension in the room, looking down at his feet then around the enclosure. It was small, quaint, he wondered what you were going to do to the place. It fit you well, it had a vintage feel and he could tell that was why you liked it. Shit, every building on that street was vintage unless somebody knocked it down.

“I’m Carmen.” He says, finally breaking the silence between the two of you. You reply with your own name and go to shake his hand, which he reciprocates. His hands are rough, calloused and scarred unlike your own. You had a few scars on your hands, sure, but nothing catastrophic like his. None you could feel unless you tried.

You pull back and clear your throat, taking in a deep breath and curling a finger around the collar of your shirt. “I’m turning it into a bakery, in case you were wondering.” you said with a little laugh.

Carmen laughs and nods, stuffing his hands in his front pockets while doing another look-over of the place.

“Cute.”

“Very cute.” “Shit I didn’t mean it like- …insulting. That’s fuckin’... dope.”

You didn't reply, only giving him a poorly hidden smile in response. His awkward laughs just made you more and more endeared with whatever he was trying to explain. 

“Like, it's cute that there's a bakery right across from a shitty sub place.” He continues to scramble for ways to take back what he thought offended you.

He was charming, you had to give him that.

“Agreed,” you crossed your arms, looking around the place and letting out a deep breath.

Carmen just looked at you, not caring to point out the chipped paint on the counters or the display case with broken glass. It was almost sweet how the shine in your eyes got brighter the longer you stared. It was like you were day dreaming about what could be, already having everything mapped out and perfectly painted in your head. He hoped to maybe be a part of that future.

You hadn't seemed to notice until he cleared his throat and rested a hand on the nape of his neck.

“Well… if you ever want an Italian sub made by non-Italians, you know where to find me.”

“You aren’t Italian?”

“Nah, I meant like- like, none of my staff is Italian except me. And my cousin who isn’t actually italian but pretends to be… he’s like, fuckin’ polish.” He said with a huffed laugh, warmth spreading to his cheeks at the way you were looking at him.

You thought it was cute.

You raised an eyebrow and met him with a laugh, barely covering your mouth with your hand. “How does that work?” You said through a giggle.

“Long story.” Carmen smiled, putting his hand back in his pocket.

“Alright then, I’ll come by sometime.”

“Cool.”

“Super cool.”

“Right, I'm just gonna… yeah… yeah…” he said sheepishly as he started to walk backwards toward the door but turned around at the last second. He softly hit the painted wall of the door frame out of – what seemed to be – habit, you were surprised he didn't bump into it.

Carmen was charming, nonetheless awkward, but you’d always had a soft spot for guys that acted like scared prey. Especially ones that looked like him. Big arms, tattoos, sad eyes, the works. It was like the universe put him in front of you just to make your job harder than it needed to be.

Because now you had to worry about a hot neighbor.

—

It had been a week since your conversation with Carmen. Whenever he went to the front of the store he’d look over at your bakery. He wouldn't admit it, but he actively searched you out some mornings. He searched for the smile that made him weak in the knees, the one that made him swoon worse than with Claire in high school.

The Beef smelled like burnt meat, sweat, cigarettes, and regret. 

Richie was probably burning one right next to the stove again. But with how loud he was talking, it was unlikely. Carmen walked back to the kitchen, slamming the doors open and bee lining for the oven that had his roast in it. He was scared shitless that somebody was going to mess with it, it didn't show, but he was scared that the others would hide his ingredients. Just like they’d done to Sydney. He still really needed to apologize for that. 

“Cousin, you’re watchin’ that thing like a fuckin’ baby. What even is that?” Richie comes up behind Carmen, the roast now on top of the stove while Carmen spoons the drippings back onto itself. 

“Roast, idiot. The fuck does it look like?”

“Roast ‘deez nuts!” Richie laughs loudly, Marcus joining in on the laughter.

Carmen scoffs and puts the roast back in the oven, throwing the spoon to the counter. “Do you have to act like a fucking child all the time, cousin? Like- like is that just in your contract?” He asks, irritation and increasing volume lacing his words. Veins started to pop out of the side of his head, making his gritted teeth all the more worse.

Richie follows Carmen as he walks around the kitchen, checking prep work. “Do you have to go around acting like a baby, Carm? Do you just have to change everything you get your grubby little fuckin’ muffs on?”

They both continue arguing until Carmen is out of the kitchen, standing behind the ordering counter. Nobody was in there, it was before they opened. What could a little argument in the front room do? “You’re just so scared of changing this place, Richie! It's inevitable, shit happens-!” He yells, before whipping his head around and seeing you standing awkwardly a few feet away from them.

Nobody said anything for a minute, everybody just shifting their gaze to one another.

“Who the fuck‘re you?” Richie announced, letting his cigarette burn in between his fingers. It looked like it was begging to be ashed. 

You replied with your name, stuttering half way through it and clearing your throat. “I, uhm… I own the building next door. Carmen said to come by whenever, so…” you pursed your lips in a tight line, looking between the two of them.

Carmen was frozen, a hand still raised in the air directed at Richie. He was just… looking at you. But there was something behind it. Something that revealed he didn't expect you to actually show up, thinking that you’d brush him off like everybody else usually did. Except, you didn’t. You showed up like you said you would, or at least you implied that you would.

A goofy smile creeped up onto his face as he lowered his arm and turned to face you. He was flustered, that much you knew. The stupid pink on his cheeks and the red that painted his earlobes were evidence of this. His smile was lopsided, pulled up to one side more than the other. “Hi.” Was all he said, that stupid smile plastered on his face like he had not a care in the world.

You smiled back at him, not being able to hide a small laugh at how silly he looked. “Hi, Carmen.”

“Do you uh- Richie, go back to the uhm.. the kitchen.” he told Richie, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.

Richie scoffed and turned around, walking back into the kitchen. “Whatever boss baby wants…” he mumbled.

Carmen didn't care that he could hear him, fidgeting with the dirty towel in his hands. “Want a sandwich?” He asked, putting a hand to the back of his head and the other – towel still in hand – right above his hip. He let out a small laugh, but he didn't know what he was laughing at. Maybe he just did it to not let the silence consume you both. 

“Why else would I be here?”

“So you’re not here to see me?” he asked sheepishly, almost inaudible while he looked down at the towel in his hands. But you caught it.

You smiled, your teeth peaking through as you stared at him. “I mean, you were definitely the motivator?” you shrugged, holding your lips between your teeth as his cheeks reddened. Despite the mop of hair on his head, it didn't do as much hiding as he thought it did.

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

Carmen finally looked back up at you and nodded, nodding towards the kitchen and slowly walking away. “I’ll be right back. Don't go yet.”

“Yes, chef.” 

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with another stupid barely contained smile and looking down with an audible laugh. Not a huff, a real laugh. Carmen Berzatto could let out a real laugh. Cute.

He ran hand through his hair and looked back up at you, putting a finger up until he disappeared into the kitchen. 

You could hear yelling immediately.

Tina came up to him first. “Yo, Jeff. Who's the cutie at the counter, yeah?” She negged, nudging his shoulder with her own a couple times.

Carmen shrugged her off and started walking towards the finished roast in the oven. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend! …or how you even got one.” Tina continued, the sizzling vegetables in front of her creating a peaceful lull in the kitchen. It wasn’t often that it happened, so Carmen chose to embrace it for a second.

He just looked at her with a blank face – tired maybe. Then, he started cutting up the roast, quickly and not as precisely as he usually did.

“Hey, I’m just playin’ around… jeez.” Tina backed off, watching how quickly he was putting the sandwich together. She’d never seen him rush like that. Somehow the sandwich didn't look messy. Well… more messy than it could, anyways.

Carmen sped out of the kitchen and looked for you still standing at the counter. His heart dropped, had you left? Maybe you decided that he wasn't worth your time once you saw him and Richie’s fight. Or worse, you thought he was scary. Maybe the yelling made you nervous. Maybe your entire conversation was just for his convenience. Maybe you didn't like him the way that he liked you.

Maybe, maybe, maybe–

“Carmen?”

He looked to his right and found you sitting in one of the tall stools at the counter-table mounted to the wall. He hated that table, more specifically the red color. Why did Mikey choose the shittiest interior design?

“You’ve been standing there for a bit… you okay?” you asked, tilting your head and watching as he walked up to you.

“Yeah- Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.” Carmen replied, nodding and placing the sandwich in front of you.

You looked up at him again and then looked down at the sandwich. It looked good, not something you’d normally go for, but it still looked really good. You grabbed it and took a bite, covering your mouth when you looked up at him.

Your eyes were wide and your jaw stopped moving. It was fucking good. You cursed with your mouth full, still looking at him.

Carmen started to get scared, something had to be wrong, right? Why else would you be looking at him like that?

“What? Is- Is there something wrong with it? I could make you a new one, I swear Richie always messes with the way shit tastes.” he ranted, running a stressed hand through his hair as he started pacing.

You finished your bite and shook your head rapidly with your brows furrowed. “No! Not at all! Quite the opposite actually.” You confirmed before taking another bite and looking at him.

“Oh. Okay.” Carmen nodded, slowing his pacing before stopping completely and sitting down next to you. You offered him a bite of your sandwich and he hesitated. It was unlike him to share food like this, especially with a woman he just met. But he couldn't find himself caring like he usually would.

He leaned in for a bite and let out a huff of laughter through his nose while he chewed. Finishing your bite, you smiled and bit your lip slightly. 

“Told you.”

“Right, alright.” He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at you.

Those sad blue eyes didn't leave you while you finished the sandwich, offering him the last bite. He declined, but appreciated the gesture to the greatest extent that he could. Carmen couldn't keep up his sad act anymore, couldn't keep up the angry-tough guy act. He didn't want to. Not when he was with you, not anymore. He found himself smiling more when he was in your presence. You made him feel stupid and childish.

But he kind of liked it.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, no words, just looking and taking in the features of the other. It was peaceful, almost. A serene situation that Carmen nor you thought you’d get again.

He started to speak again, clearing his throat and looking down at the table. “So could I-”

“Can I have your number?” You interrupted, covering your mouth as if you blurted something you shouldn't have.

Carmen stared blankly at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Yes.”

You left The Beef with a giddy smile on your face and flushed cheeks, looking down at the “This is Carmen, call me” text notification from “Carmy 🥪”.

BONUS!

October, 2023

Carmen walked into your bakery Art Deco, the cap on his head only covering him so much from the rain outside. He didn't know why you called it that, there wasn't necessarily anything “art deco” in there. You just liked the Lana Del Rey song and wanted to have that sort of vibe in the bakery. You achieved it somehow and never changed the name to something that made more sense. 

How very you.

Carmen walked through the shop soaked, your employees already used to him visiting from time to time. They didn't care, just looked at him then rolled their eyes. He went straight for the back, right where he knew you’d be baking something that he could steal one of. You always made one extra that the two of you would split.

One of the doors swung open and you didn't immediately turn your head around. You knew those footsteps anywhere. They were quick and had a hint of insecurity littered with every step.

“Hey, Carm.” You said while standing up from crouching in front of the oven. You had two pans of hot croissants in your hands.

Carmen walked behind you and gently rested his hands on your waist, kissing your cheek. “Hey, honey.” he said as you suddenly walked away from him, grabbing a paper towel and putting one of the hot croissants on it. Your fingers were basically immune to the burning sensation you used to feel. You weren't sure whether you should feel prideful or worried about it.

He looked at you as you placed the pastry in his hands, smiling to himself and looking down at it with love. How could he not? You made it, everything you make should be looked at with only that.

“You should teach Marcus some of this stuff.” Carmen said before bowling the steam off of his dessert.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him. “Some of my shit is fancy, but not that fancy.”

“No, I know. But he should learn more… I dunno, homey desserts. For family. Y’know?”

“Well send him over if you want him to, I won't be opposed to it. He’s fun.”

“Funner than me?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and momentarily stopped dusting the croissants with powdered sugar.

Carmen’s eyes widened, nodding while looking around the kitchen. “Wow, okay.”

You laughed and continued to dust your desserts, shaking your head with a grin.

“I’m kidding. Nothing is more fun than listening to you critiquing cooking shows.”

“Not my fault they’re shitty.” “Not at all.”

He walked back over to you once you finished dusting and stole a kiss from you, the croissant you gave him now abandoned on the counter behind him. His hands slowly crept down to your thighs, curling his arms underneath and picking you up. You giggled, resting your face in the crook of his neck as he set you on a clean counter. Now you’d have to clean again. Damn you, cross contamination.

However, it was all worth it to watch him fuss over you for just a few minutes.

yooo, hopefully you guys enjoyed this! i'm not sure if people even like the bear anymore but i had fun writing this. rip carmy season one/two, so fine in all of his sad glory </3

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!