#Luca the bear x black! reader

[cloveroctobers]

LUCA — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: taking a shot writing for Mr. Luca! Love when the bear gives us crumbs and I’m able to create/build more off what was given. Let’s give it up for Mr. Eyebrow king being in lurve 💛 also I promise this is the last time I’ll be using a song from this album but the entire album fits for the bear in my humble opinion, I’m not going to hold you!

WARNINGS: still trying to get a feel for Luca’s character so I hope I wasn’t too far off for him! Feels! A supportive partner! Mentions of mental health & dark thoughts that lead to dark actions—but not overly described but definitely hinted!

Added summer prompts from here & I’m using these two: “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.” + “i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @goodsirs

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Being back in Copenhagen was a whirlwind of emotions but Peyton picked the very best one.

To tell you the truth, Peyton’s been away for about three months, and decided to take the trip back but not alone.

She’s the one leading the way, natural sway in her hips even beneath her cream shacket as she’s all smiles to the familiar workers who seem to be moving at ease. It’s a Sunday, a little after twelve and the restaurant isn’t as busy yet. In her mind, it’s the perfect time to show up, unannounced, although Sydney and Marcus were definitely questioning it.

Carmy doesn’t say much, deciding to take in the architecture of the dark painted walls and the industrial decor instead. He still follows behind as Peyton pushes the back doors open, holding it in place as she waves the three to where the real show is located.

The kitchen is louder and lively compared to the main floor: which is quiet with small chatter, cedar wood infused air, and the gentle splashing from the large stone water fountain, that’s tucked in the back of the main dining floor.

There’s at least six chefs moving around in the kitchen, handling different tasks and talking to each other in calm tones that aren’t as similar back in Chicago. It’s a whole different atmosphere, Carmy thinks and he knows his thoughts are matched as his round eyes peek over at Sydney’s while Marcus sends all split-tooth grins.

It doesn’t take long for Peyton’s eyes to find Luca’s frame, who has his back turned to the four, large hands tending to the dough on the counter that he’s kneading.

“Is that the guy?” Sydney asks, only hearing a few stories from Carmy and occasionally Marcus.

Carmy nods, “yeah, yeah. That’s Luca.”

Peyton continues holding the door for the chefs who start to leave the area, greeting Peyton on their way before she lets the door gently flap behind them after they take their exit. The woman with the hair full of volume takes a stand in between Marcus and Sydney.

“Welcome and welcome back to Brimstone’s Gate.” Peyton introduced the trio who further took in the environment of the kitchen.

Marcus took a deep inhale, “it’s nice to be back…after everything you know?”

A solemn mood is felt after his words.

“I absolutely get that,” Peyton comments as she rests a hand on his shoulder, “just consider this your second home. A place of comfort and to relax your mind.”

Marcus gives a small smile, “thanks, Peyton.”

“Of course.” Peyton moves to face the three again, smile on her glossed lips as she clasps her hands together while she begins walking backwards, “so brimstone’s gate is one of the popular restaurants here in Copenhagen just like the lovely owner and manager of this place that you just met, Ragmus previously said. It’s mainly known for its intricate desserts and quaint and savory cuisine.”

“You’re really selling it, Peyton.” Sydney tells with two thumbs up.

Peyton winks as she points out at the twenty-something year old, “thanks girl, it’s what I do.”

Peyton’s a successful Editorial Food Photographer and it became the best decision she’s made for her career.

“Should we be calling you presenter chef instead?” Carmy teases, “we could have used some of those skills at the bear.”

Peyton laughs as she rolls her thumb over her fingers, “where the money resides, honey.”

��Ah, and here I thought we were friends.” Carmy’s got a crooked smile playing on his lips while Peyton playfully scoffs.

They both know if Peyton was in Chicago on better terms, Peyton would definitely shoot some photos if that’s what Carmy really needed for The Bear. She met Carmy years ago, attending the same restaurant alongside Luca, until she decided creating food wasn’t her passion like her well-known food critic mother wanted it to be. Instead she liked seeing the visuals and telling hundreds of those stories through film.

“That’s a likely story,” she responds as she purposely bumps into Luca who hadn’t noticed they were here, “oh my apologies! Didn’t see you there, Chef.”

Both Marcus and Sydney both squinted and furrowed their brows at each other while Carmy folded his arms, waiting to see how this would play out.

Luca exhales, assuming it to be one of the new clumsy younger chef’s that just started here two weeks ago. He pulls some of the wet dough that sticks to his finger tips and barely glances upwards, a routine of words spewing from his lips, “t’alright chef, let’s just remind ourselves the notices we give out to one another when we cross around, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Peyton says, “Mind telling us what you’re preparing?”

His arched brows immediately furrow before he focuses in on who exactly is speaking to him. There’s surprise written right on his face, brows raising while Peyton is still full of soft smiles that she sends his way. He’s grabbing a rag then, struggling to break his eyes away to see the other three faces.

“Hey man,” Marcus starts which makes a slow grin appear on Luca’s own face.

“Good to see you again, Chef.”

Luca’s eyes trail over the small group, his eyes then settling on Carmy’s who still looks the same as he leans from one foot to the other but he’s full of more tattoos. Which almost makes Luca want to glance down at his own filled arms but he decides against it. He still liked his own artwork better.

“Carmen Berzatto.”

“Luca Hodgson.”

The three are watching the pair as if this is a pickle ball match. Sydney’s holding a breath as Luca makes his way over to Carmy, towering over him and face not revealing any emotion while Marcus is sending glances to Peyton who is behind analyzing Luca’s dish.

Luca says, “Are you still a know it all prick?”

Marcus was not expecting this since it was Carmy who reached out to Luca in the first place for his experience here months ago. He figured they were on good terms if Carmy wanted Marcus to learn from Luca. What changed?

“Well that uh depends, you still a show off, jackass?” Carmy met Luca’s eyes, not backing down in the slightest.

They hold each other’s stares before Luca breaks off into a laugh, followed by Carmy as they briefly embrace, hands clapping each other on the back in greeting.

“Oh, okay then.” Sydney mutters as she gazed over at Marcus who is also confused with a shrug of his shoulders.

Carmy then does the honors of introducing Sydney and Luca, who immediately shakes his hand, despite the sticky and warm residue from the dough.

“Pleasure to meet you, Chef Sydney. You probably can’t say the same now with dough on your hand, I suppose. I’ll grab you a wet nap.” Luca tells as he moves around to grab the said item.

He leans against the opposite counter where he was previously working, now fully wiping his own hands, glancing over at Peyton who’s all up in his dish as he voices, “I wasn’t aware any of you were coming. A heads up would have been cool.”

“So you’re not a fan of surprises, noted.” Marcus says while Luca dips his head about in a sorta motion.

Carmy scratched at his brow then, “We were under the impression that Peyton had it all sorted.”

Luca’s eyes are back on Peyton who’s listening but doesn’t provide anything to the conversation, it’s not like Luca could do anything about it now since they were all here.

“Don’t touch the remonce.”

“It’s not remonce yet,” Peyton looks over her shoulder at Luca who rolls his eyes.

Luca then says, “nice of you to let me know you were bringing guests.”

“They’re not guests, they’re practically family.” Peyton fans her hand about while Luca just lets out a sigh.

Carmy cuts in, “we’re not trying to disrupt the flow you have goin’ on here by any means.”

Luca snorts, “uh huh. It’s slow right now, so you lot are lucky I don’t mind.”

Sydney awkwardly claps her hands together, “great! We’re also really curious to what you’re working on…here at work.”

“Smooth, Syd. Real smooth.” Marcus teases while Sydney tightens her eyes sarcastically.

Luca looks back at his dish where Peyton is ready to show it off, posing in front of it like they were on jeopardy. The man cant help but to shake his head at her antics but announces, “I’m making frøsnapper.”

“It’s a traditional dish here,” Peyton mentions, “frø is a danish word for seed and frog.”

Sydney jokes, “Is it also going to leap off the tray after you take it out of the oven?”

Luca blinks but says with a straight face, “maybe if I throw in a few drops of green food coloring.”

It took a few seconds for Sydney to get the joke back, breathing out some slow laughter, while Marcus shook his head at her and Carmy watched as Luca briefly touched Peyton’s hips to make more space for him to talk about the pastry.

“Yes so, frøsnapper. Also known as for the English, seed snapper or frog snapper. It’s got remonce filling and once it’s done baking, it’s sweet and savory while the texture falls between flaky and delicate.”

“Like a croissant.” Marcus pointed out.

Luca shook his head, “Not quite, Marcus. This is Denmark.”

Marcus paused as he picked up on Luca’s mannerisms, “…fucker.”

Which makes Luca grin again.

“How long is Prep time?” Carmy asks as he makes the first move to get closer, peering at all the ingredients.

“About 12 hours or so.”

Carmy let’s out a low-whistle, “Shit.”

“Shit’s right mate and I started yesterday. It’s a excellent breakfast or pick me up for the afternoon, which is why I planned for it to be done today.” Luca explained.

Peyton speaks up, “and it will be…how long for the oven?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Luca automatically answers as he looks at the clock on the wall behind them all.

“See…Patience.”

“Every second.” Luca moves his winter deep ocean eyes to her ink colored ones, the two holding each other’s stare before he turns back to the rest.

“Any of you have allergic reactions to sesame or poppy seeds?” He asks, watching their facial expressions.

Carmy shrugs while both Marcus and Sydney shake their heads, ‘no.’

“Great, grab some aprons by the door there while I roll out the dough.”

“Oh, we’re doing work too on this vacation. Okay, yeah! I’m down.” Sydney rubs her hands together in excitement as she elbows Carmy lightly, who twists a smile onto his own lips.

Marcus is the first to move while Sydney follows. Carmy stays behind with Luca and Peyton as he picks up on the end of their hushed conversation:

“…I’ll be much better when we have dinner?”

“Cant. Not sure how long I’ll be here tonight, we have a few summer birthday gatherings here later. What about breakfast? It’ll be my day off.”

“Early meeting for me, I’ll be at the office.

“Lunch then?”

“…That works.”

“Finally.” Luca mutters as he takes his time but adds just enough pressure to roll out the dough, which makes Peyton let out a small laugh.

Sydney comes back, handing Carmen a apron who was mostly in a trance watching the dough get flattened that he didn’t bother to interrupt the conversation between old friends. He silently thanks Sydney before securing it around his waist.

Peyton leaves room for Marcus and Sydney to take her spot on the left of Luca, “and this is where I leave you three in good hands.”

“Wait…you’re not gonna get in on this?” Sydney is surprised while a smile is still planted on Peyton’s lips.

She motions to her outfit, “Looking this good? Not today, girl.”

Sydney eyes Peyton’s outfit which consisted of her brown voluminous hair pulled back into a claw clip, a cream opened corduroy shacket and a orange and white floral mini dress, “…fair point. I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could button that thing up and throw a apron on. Doesn’t seem like something you’d want to miss.”

“Your concern is touching, sis. But I actually can’t wait to get home and I’m sure Luca will save me one to try.” Peyton says as Luca is back in his zone now, trimming the edges of the dough and slides off the ingredients of the remonce to Marcus to mix together by hand.

Luca is listening as he replies, “yeah I will, see you at home.”

“See you at home.” Peyton repeats before winking at Sydney who is gapping, Marcus widens his eyes a bit, and Carmy is covering his snickers with a balled up fist.

Sydney turns back to the dish after Peyton leaves and mumbles, “so yeah, next time I’ll shut the fuck up.”

Which earns a laugh from both Luca and Carmy.

“You could have told us, Carmy!” Sydney whisper yells at Carmy who shrugs his shoulders.

Marcus chuckles, “Hey don’t feel bad, Luca didn’t tell me shit either the last time I was here and I’m kinda feeling a way about it now.”

Luca instructs Marcus to spread half of the remonce on one side of the dough then says, “I didn’t think we needed to share love stories just yet, Chef. The love was already there in the pastries.”

“Booo, how corny of you. Where’s the tomatoes?” Marcus snorts which Luca can’t help but to chuckle back.

Luca jokes after he nods his head in approval at the amount of remonce, “Looks like all of us were left out of something, huh?”

“If you don’t mind me asking…how long…?” Sydney starts as Luca takes over after Marcus folded the dough again, slicing it into twelve rectangles before he shows Sydney what to do next.

“What? How long have we been in love and decided to get engaged?”

“This fucking guy, how did you deal with him?” Marcus laughs, asking Carmy.

Carmy says, “we handled our beef outside.”

“What?!” Sydney squawks, “there’s no way you two fought.”

Luca explains, “it happened only once not far from the restaurant we worked at. And I don’t really classify that as much of a fight.”

“A punch to the eye wasn’t good enough for you?” Carmy’s eyes are in slits at this.

Marcus comments, “Damn.”

Luca defends, “A sucker punch isn’t fair. But I got you back, we scrambled a bit and then moved passed it the next day, bruises, cuts and all.”

Marcus concludes, “Sometimes that’s just how it works.”

“It smells like too much testosterone in here for me.” Sydney cuts in.

“Not sugar?” Luca lightly questions as he starts with the egg wash before handing another brush over to Sydney to help finish the rest.

Sydney scowls, “Yeah dude, I don’t know if I like you.”

“Join the club,” Luca winks over at Carmy who rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“Are you serious?” Luca wants to know just what his soon to be wife thought she was doing.

He met up with her, right on time, finding her sitting on the stone wall with what looked like a bright Orange cocktail in a plastic cup decorated with a little umbrella and fruit jammed along the straw.

They’re at the beach, it’s mid seventies, and there’s not many people on the walkway that rests along the sand. Mostly everyone else is taking advantage of the comfortable warmth on the sand. Luca and Peyton weren’t really beach people, preferring a lake and cabin any day but it was Peyton who suggested they meet out here since it was closer to her job.

It was far from their detached home but Luca didn’t mind the drive. He loved sight seeing when he made the time for it and usually when he had the time off, which was rare, he tried to get out there and see the world since there was so much to offer. He also couldn’t wait to be in Peyton’s face again; he wouldn’t count spooning her last night either, considering his face was covered with her bonnet.

Which he missed.

Conversations were meant to be had so that they could continue on with their journey together. She had to step away from their relationship for a few months and Luca was nothing more than understanding…although it stung a bit. He even offered to pick up and go to Chicago with her but Peyton told him life couldn’t be put on pause for her low moments, yet she was appreciative.

She dressed in jeans today as she hops off the wall, a smile in her brown eyes as she holds out her arms innocently, “hey, you said to keep hydrated! i’m pretty sure there’s some water in this cocktail.”

She’s mentioning the text message Luca sent to her a few hours ago, after she announced a headache was coming on after her meeting with her pushy manager. He was just checking in as he did a bit of laundry around the house but that didn’t stop his concern at all.

“Give me that,” Luca plucks the drink from her fingertips, fast as he sniffs at it before placing his own lips right on the straw, “hmm and here I was expecting vodka.”

“It’s not that kind of party, baby.” Peyton peers up at him as she locks her arms around his waist.

One hand comes up to palm her cheek, leaving Luca to take his time trailing his eyes all over her beautiful features, “So good to have you back.”

“Kiss me then.”

Luca snorts, “is this you asking for my consent?”

“Sure, uh huh.” She’s almost swooning in his eyes and Luca smirks as he leans closer to her lips.

“Eh, maybe later.”

“You asshole!” Peyton pushes at Luca’s back after he circled around her.

He’s laughing as he tosses a tatted arm over her shoulders, liking the feel of her being tucked right underneath his arm. She doesn’t miss how he’s holding onto her drink now, but she doesn’t mind it as long as she gets to keep him close.

They’re enjoying each other’s company again, almost as if the last three months didn’t happen but they both know it did.

“So…tell it to me straight. You’re back here with me now and I was left in the dark as soon as you were checked in.”

“I wanted to call rather than write you but I never had the words.” Peyton quietly says, “And I know you wouldn’t have minded if I just said a simple hello and we breathed on the phone for twenty minutes or whatever. I just didn’t want to make it worse for you.”

Luca hums, “Guess I can appreciate you taking my feelings into account but I can’t say I wouldn’t have rather talk to you than your mum, no disrespect.”

“Yes I know, she’s a lot.”

“Most families are.”

Peyton lays her head against Luca’s shoulder as they continue walking along the path, “Well you’re my family too and I’m sorry for handing over nothing but white noise to you while I was trying to get a better hold on this.”

It was extremely hard not knowing where exactly Peyton was and dealing with a mother like her’s.

“I don’t want you to apologize for doing what you thought was best for your mental health.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like I was shutting you out…you’re the last person I’d want to ever to do that to. I love you too much, to the point where I realized that I’d always want tomorrow’s with you.”

Luca felt his heart swell at that. It was always a good feeling to know that someone loves you just as much as you loved them. Luca was always known for his banter especially back when he worked at Noma years ago with both Carmy and Peyton but it seemed like Peyton’s energy meshed well with his.

He instantly thought Peyton was attractive and didn’t enjoy how she got on with Carmy equally at the start. Her approach to cooking wasn’t as serious as it was for him and Carmy but she was curious to learning. That’s something that was brought into their soon romantic relationship, they were open to go with the flow and it led them right to Luca putting a ring on it.

Peyton never had regrets about saying yes. She knew what she wanted with Luca and although the black parts of her brain gave her heavy blues, her heart still told her all that she needed to know.

Luca was patient, tender and he was still her man. They wanted forever and had to find balance even when it became shaky at times. They wanted to stick it out, be together and they lost touch once before when Peyton was the first to leave Denmark but somehow they always found their way back.

“I think that counts for a kiss, don’t you?” Luca whispers, stopping right in their path as he stares down at the dark umber skinned beauty.

Peyton almost pounces on her toes, “thank you! As if we haven’t deprived each other enough.”

“Gosh, so needy.” Luca teases, curling a finger underneath her chin to tilt her ready lips to meet his.

They both exhale as their lips touch after being away for quite some time. Her hand is resting against his clothed ribcage and their lips move together in sync as if there isn’t any limit to time. It’s when his tongue traces the outline of her full bottom lip that she pulls away, fanning herself.

“This man is trying to get me to buss it open in public on the beach, Chile. Relax yourself Hodgson, before we catch a charge.”

Luca’s nose crinkles at this as he chuckles, “fine…save it for the indoors, yeah?”

“Maybe even in the backyard?”

Luca raises his arched brows, actually considering it, “Nah, I don’t want to hear you yelling at me for messing up your edges in the grass. Mind you, that you’re probably allergic to.”

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s messed up Peyton’s edges.

However Peyton always appreciated the concern.

“What about the garden room on the side of the flat?” Luca soon suggested, leaving Peyton to also think about this before she eyed Luca up and down.

It must have still been empty since she left, that area of the home completely slipped her mind when she settled back in, even after leaving Brimstone’s gate yesterday afternoon.

“I think you forget how big you are sometimes.”

A smirk appeared on Luca’s lips then and before he could even open his mouth, Peyton was slapping her hand right over his lips.

“Don’t finish that sentence, there’s kids around.” Peyton warned.

Luca frowned as he muffled, “you started it!”

Peyton smiles at a father who is holding the bars of a tricycle of his toddler, leading them down the path, excusing them as they make their way by. Once they’re out of ear shot, Peyton lowers her hand from Luca’s lips until he pulls the sun glasses from her combed out pin-curled hair to place over his own eyes.

“You’re very handsy today.”

Luca’s arm drapes back over Peyton’s shoulder, pulling her into his side, then he presses a kiss to her temple, “I don’t see you complaining.”

“You’re right.” She pulls her cocktail back to take a sip, “why would I ever?”

“Exactly,” Luca speaks, “…going forward, whatever you need from me, don’t be afraid to let me know please, Mrs. Hodgson.”

Peyton places a kiss to Luca’s pink neck, “thank you baby.”

“Don’t start singing that pasta and lobster song please,” Luca groans after picking up on her tone.

Peyton sends him a look of innocence, “what do you mean? Are we not having that back at the house when the three bears come over?”

“What’d do you mean?”

“There’s no way we’re not inviting Carmy, Marcus, and Sydney over for dinner.”

Luca shrugs, “I didn’t know they were comin’ ‘round anyways.”

“Luca!”

“What? What if I wanted you all to myself first?”

“And you will, they’ll only be here for a week.”

“…A week too long.” Luca mutters making Peyton laugh as she shakes her head, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop it, Luca Lamar Hodgson.”

“No.” Luca chuckles as he points at the beaming woman, “Now you know that is not my middle name, at all.”

What do you have against Lamar’s Luca?

“I’ve talked to Lulu on my way here.”

Luca feels his eye twitch at the mention of his gossiping little sister, Luella. He of course loved her dearly but she could be a brat sometimes and when he misses her call, Peyton was next in line for her dramatics.

“The elevator doesn’t always go upstairs with that one. Especially with whatever she’s gone and said to you.”

“You are on a roll today,” Peyton laughed with her head thrown back, “and you’re not about to do my good sis like that either.”

“She’s my sister first and I know she didn’t say my middle name was that.”

“You don’t know our conversations.”

“Thank heavens for that.”

Peyton paused as she untangled herself from Luca who lifted up her shades to peer at her in question. She held her arms out as she says, “there’s space and opportunity if you wanna fight.”

Luca scans Peyton up and down, taking his time as he did and scoffs, “You don’t scare me, babe. I’ll have you over my shoulder like flour in seconds.”

Peyton cracks her neck and motions her hand, “come on then. Remind me, which one of us was the athlete here?”

Yeah Peyton was deeply invested in tennis once upon a time and originally that’s what Luca thought she wanted to make a profession. She still participated down at the court during the weekends and man was she fast along with those long arms that provided powerful swings. Luca couldn’t see her on the court when it came to tennis, he almost pulled a damn hamstring but he wouldn’t tell any of his mates that.

As for football and cycling…that was a different story.

“That was then and what year are we in now?” He tapped his apple-watch.

Peyton cupped her ear, “Do I hear shade?”

Luca looks around at the sky, “doesn’t appear to be partly cloudy at all. It’s actually very sunny.”

Peyton let out a whole karate sound and tried to strike one, which was humorous but Luca was swift as he easily gripped her thighs and lugged her right up onto his shoulder, holding her in place.

“I told you.” Luca said after awhile, causally walking down the path while Peyton attempted to wiggle around, “let me know when you’re done. I’m just enjoying the view.”

Peyton huffed, “now what if you made me drop my cocktail?”

“I’ve got actual water back in the car, love.”

Peyton mocked Luca who laughed and patted her backside, carrying on in Copenhagen’s sun.

Up in their bedroom, Peyton is lounging on the bed, phone raised up in the air browsing food TikTok’s until she hears Luca letting out a string of curses that sound heavy in his accent from their en suite bathroom.

“Luca, you good?” Peyton calls out to the man, breaking her eyes away from her screen.

“Y-Yup!”

That didn’t sound convincing at all.

So Peyton’s on her feet now, phone tossed to the side of her as she enters the bathroom. She gets a nice view of reddened skin that’s leading from Luca’s neck and down the upper part of his back.

“Ouch.” Peyton remarks, “I did not notice this earlier. I would have sprayed your ass down with my own sunscreen.”

Luca pinched at his skin and flinches a bit, “summer’s aren’t nearly as hot here. I don’t understand why I look like bloody salmon.”

Peyton covers her giggle, knowing why as she stands beside him, after eyeing the change in his skin tone. “I got you, don’t worry.”

There was no doubt in his mind.

Mintues later, Peyton’s retrieved the goo that she had mashed in the container, stored in the back of the fridge, knowing Luca wouldn’t have went searching through there since he tended to eat out at restaurants or order out majority of the time. He had a sweet tooth so she had to be the one to remind him to actually eat full meals instead of desserts from time to time. Which means they’ll have to go grocery shopping at some point, something Luca truly loathes. unbeknownst to him, his mother all the way out in London had grocery deliveries sent to his home, realizing that he didn’t keep his fridge stocked much after Peyton went back to the states.

Peyton first went off to California to visit her father and grandmother in search of different scenery, taking a break from the growing stress but that stress turned into something else. Luca looked back and saw the signs as they laid on the floor together in the dark, with her talking about the end but figured it was just conversation back then. It wasn’t until she went to Chicago to spend time with her controlling mother that she actually tried and it wasn’t just thoughts. Unperceived to Luca and that’s when Luca’s own mother came to be with her son during this difficult time, then he finally got the call that Peyton was being admitted, just to later learn Peyton’s mother called Luca’s first.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little irked that people were going behind his back when it came to Peyton. He should have been there…but he knew he couldn’t blame himself. He thought he was just sending his wife to be off for a simple get away…overall he was happy that she was still here fighting day by day.

He knows it’ll be tough but not everyday will be full of clouds.

“i’m not happy you’re sunburnt, but i am enjoying getting to be the one helping you put aloe vera on.” Peyton says as she’s on Luca’s back, knee’s on either side of him, lathering his back in the cold gel.

Her eyes observe the doodles of ink that decorated his arms and smiles at the sunflower on his shoulder, which he dedicated to her.

Luca exhales at the temperature as he continues resting his cheek against his arm, ready to doze off, “Why’s that?”

“I enjoy taking care of you too, duh.”

“I think you like to touch my body, Mariah Carey.”

“That tooooo-ooh,” she tries to belt out a whistle tone that sounds like a rooster being strangled—“but I also love you.”

“I love you lots too, even when you’re trying to make my eardrums bleed…but don’t ever forget that, yeah?” Luca says over his shoulder as he tries to ignore the sting in his skin but knowing that the comfort is coming from Peyton’s hands, he’ll survive.

Peyton leans forward again to place a kiss to the back of Luca’s head, “I won’t.”

Once enough of Luca’s back in covered in aloe, Peyton leaves to wash her hands and place the gel back into the fridge downstairs. When she comes back into the bedroom, Luca is still in the same position she left him in. Usually her side of the bed is closest to the door, which is something they deeply debated over, she climbs over him to tuck herself underneath his folded arm.

His lips press into her clothed shoulder, his t-shirt, before resting his nose against it later, breathing in her homey scent with his eyes closed. One hand goes to run through his sun lightened hair, further soothing him to sleep as she’s back on her phone now, letting him rest.

No more cold sides of the bed because Peyton was home with her warmth and Luca couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

And the next day after that.

And so on and so forth.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚ - ̥۪͙۪˚ ┊ ˚ ̥۪͙۪◌ ❛ ༉‧₊˚

Go back and read my current flop summer prompt here.

Continue along with my anthology summer prompts here.

[binzlovenicetingz]

NSFW Alphabet - Luca The Bear

summary: nsfw/sfw-ish, back on my will poulter tip, luca stans come get ya'll juice. like & comment to be tagged in future work. inbox is open!

A - Appetite

Luca has a bit of an insatiable appetite. Whether it’s for his passion for baking or for food in general, his desire is endless. Especially when it comes to you. A little bit gluttonous, even a little bit greedy you would say, pulling countless orgasms after orgasms from you truly never enough for this man. Luca’s appetite truly has no bounds

B - Body part(favorite body parts)

If someone had told you that a set of beefy, strong, broad shoulders could easily have you flooding in your panties would have had you laughing but now, whenever Luca is in your presence that’s where your eyes go first before your mind starts coming up with thoughts of having your legs hiked up and tossed over those same shoulders while he’s pounding you into the mattress

For Luca, it’s simple, your ass and thighs. gripping, squeezing, caressing, kneading, spanking, whatever his hands are always going to find a way near you.

C - Cream

Luca’s favorite cream is the one you leave right at the base of his cock when he fucks you just right. there’s nothing better to him tbh.

Another favorite of his is creampies. He loves the feeling of his cock swelling in your tight walls before stuffing you full of his cum, and pulling out just to watch his thick white cum leaking out of you before using his fingers to push it back in to keep you full of all of him.

D - Dining

The best way Luca gets any inspiration to create, he has to go and try new things, and he loves trying them with you. he rarely says no to trying new food spots that you found on tiktok, just don't be upset by his brutal honesty on the shittier places

E - Eggperience(get it? cause he's a chef)

Luca has some experience but he's not really the type to sleep around often, only 3 random hookups and 2 serious relationships so he has an idea of what he's doing in the bedroom but getting to learn your body and what turns you is the real reward for him.

F - Favorite Position

Doggy style or you riding him. His hands are constantly gripping and squeezing at your perfect body in any position really. The first time you rode him felt like an out-of-body experience, there were literal hearts in his eyes watching you bounce up and down on his cock with your tits in his face. Loud moans and whines leave your lips about how he's so fucking big and making you feel good.

Doggystyle is another one of his favorites since he can bend you over the nearest counter so easily and have you gushing in minutes. one of his hands wrapped around your neck while the other grips your ass, bringing you back to meet his powerful thrust that has your eyes rolling back and mouth drooling.

G - Goofy (Are they serious during sex?)

Luca can be pretty intense when it comes to intimacy but he can be a little bit mischievous if you've been acting like a brat tbh.

H - Hair (How well groomed are they?)

There's some hair just around the base of his cock but he's fairly well groomed for the most part. Luca doesn't really care whether you're fully shaved or trimmed.

I - Intimacy

Luca is actually pretty passionate during sex. Though his thrust is still powerful and with purpose in each roll of his hips. He'll need your body close, his face buried into your neck while he whispers absolute filth in your ear.

J - Jerk Off (Do they masturbate?)

Luca is a busy chef so he usually doesn't have time or is rarely in the mood to jerk off and once you two became a thing, jerking off is the further from his mind.

K - Kink

Praise kink. As mentioned before but hearing your breathless moans and whimpers about his big is and how good only he can make you feel, that he's the best? It sends his ego through the roof. He will also praise you or pet names, calling you his "good girl" "darling" or "doll"

Aftercare. It's not really a kink but it's something that he takes seriously. Luca knows that he can be rough so comfort and happiness are always his top priorities, getting you cleaned up, clothed in one of his shirts, and a late-night snack is usually part of the routine.

L - Location

His bedroom or yours, although he mostly prefers your bedroom while you actually prefer his kitchen counters.

M - Motivation (Turn Ons)

To say that you turn him on would be cheesy but you do easily turn him on. you acting like a brat or a sassy, “yes chef” gets him going. There was also one night you surprised him by wearing just his apron and nothing else. He thinks of that night often <3

N - No (Something he’d never do)

Sharing is not caring with this chef. So the idea of an open relationship or a threesome is a hard no for him. Luca doesn't want to share you and he doesn't want to be shared either.

O - Oral

Luca is a giver when it comes to oral and he loves it messy. I mentioned before that he can be a bit greedy, so he'll take his time when eating you out. Switching between flicking the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud or sucking while he has you gushing around his fingers. Luca isn't stopping until your legs are shaking and you're left only screaming his name.

P - Pastries

Luca finds it cute when you make him something. There are only a few treats that can make his mouth water from just thinking about it and some of his favorites are made by you. He still dreams of the mont blanc chocolate pavlova you surprised him with. Eating any pastries that are made by you is the only time he's not shared with you.

You made it for him after all.

Q - Quickie (Is he into quickies?)

Totally into quickies. Luca often finds himself waking up way earlier than most but his craft does require a lot of fineness and time so he's usually up and out of bed by 3 in the morning so early morning quickies. He’s home later in the evening, tired and just exhausted from the day, a quickie before bed is not a want but a need.

R - Risk (Is he willing to try new things?)

If it doesn't involve sharing or causing you any actual harm, then he's willing to try something new once you beg him enough.

S - Smell

Luca's not a weirdo, but he has secretly sniffed you before maybe once or twice. Once when you stood in front of him in line waiting to order, chatting away about some imported Ecuadorian Chocolate you ordered when someone behind Luca bumps into him, causing him to stumble forward just a bit but successfully stopped himself but he was so close to you now, close enough that he caught a whiff of coconut and almonds. It was on his mind for the rest of the day, so much so that he got inspired to make dessert.

T = Taste

I've mentioned before but Luca can be a bit gluttonous and is rarely satisficed with one round of tasting your sweet wetness all over his tongue. Your taste alone inspired three dishes from the chef!

U = Unfair (How much they tease)

A menace actually. He's cool as a cucumber most of the time because he's already thinking ahead. Some days he'll tease you for a bit just to set the mood but there have been days where he would tease you all day, offering you cheeky remarks and lopsided smirks at you trying to get him to fuck you after teasing you all day.

V - Volume

He isn't the loudest per se but he does let out groans and grunts. Whispering dirty things in your ear about how gorgeous you look taking his cock, how good your tight walls feel, and how he wants - needs to hear you make those pretty sounds over and over again louder.

W - Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Luca is a romantic. It's hard to tell and took you a little by surprise but it's there! It's the little things that he does and the thoughtless effort he puts into ensuring that you are happy.

X - X-ray (How big is he?)

Luca is around 7 inches hard and thick god bless. He gives me the vibe that it's not that big of a deal to him what his size is but finds it amusing that you practically drool over it.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Luca's sex drive is above average but he has more self-control to never push anything. Plus, he's often too busy to really think about the last time he got laid.

Z - Zzzz (How quickly are they asleep afterward?)

It takes him a while to fall asleep afterward so he's always up to cuddle and talk but he's mostly to head to the kitchen for a snack before getting some sleep.

[pantherxrogers]

surprise, it's a Luca blurb! (SMUT 18+ ONLY)

Content warnings: smut below the cut!! (18+ ONLY), public fingering, exhibitionism, dirty talk, explicit language, slight degradation, slight dom!Luca

A/N: I'm at a little bit of a standstill rn with Are You In? but I wanted to give you guys something to tide you over until the next chapter is out! This is completely separate from that series, just something I thought of! I'm experimenting with dom/sub dynamics?? Let me know what you guys think! 😘

Summary: Luca fingers the reader in a movie theater. That's it. LMAO 💀

You can feel your heart beating in your ears, but that's nothing compared to the overwhelming feeling of Luca's hand between your thighs.

"Shh, love, do you want someone to hear you?"

His voice is right next to your ear, drowning out the sound of the movie playing in the theater. The two of you are near the back, thankfully, and you have the row to yourselves.

His thumb rubs firm circles against your clit, while your thighs threaten to cut off his circulation. He wouldn't have it any other way, though. He knows you're getting off on the thrill of it all.

As a baker, Luca uses his hands a lot. And it shows. You're almost embarrassed by how turned on you are, he's only been fingering you for a few minutes. But, the way his strong arm cradles you from behind to dip in between your thighs and fuck you with his fingers is really doing it for you. All you can see, hear, and feel is Luca. And that's the way you like it.

"Maybe I should make you clean off the seat when we're done. You're pussy's so wet I can almost hear it over the movie," he groans into your ear, the sound making you clench around the finger he's pumping inside of you. The way he chuckles makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you both know you love it.

"L-Luca, someone might hear you," you whine into his ear, spreading your legs as much as the seat (and your tight skirt) will allow. He's added a second finger now, scissoring both of them inside your wet entrance.

"Good, I want them to know who's stretching out this tight cunt," he replies, dipping his head down to suck on your neck. You swear someone has turned the AC off, his actions sending a warm flush over your body.

He's angling himself towards you, effectively shielding you from any prying eyes. His jacket is draped over your lap, for added protection. Despite his crude actions, the gesture warms your heart. Typical Luca.

"I think-, I think I'm gonna cum," you sigh out, lifting your hips to meet his fingers. Your confession only spurs him on further.

He uses his other hand to reach over and toy with your nipples through the thin top you're wearing. You bite your lip to stop the whine from slipping out, but it's no use.

Luckily, Luca brings a hand up to your mouth, silencing the moan that threatens to break the silence in the room. The action makes you clench his fingers even tighter.

"Oh, you like it when I shut you up?" He whispers into your ear, chuckling when you nod your head vigorously. You didn't think you could be more turned on than you already were, but the way he dominates you is pushing you towards your high.

"You're gonna cum in front of all these people, baby?"

You don't even fully register his question, just nodding in agreement, solely focused on the high you're chasing.

"Damn, I didn't know you were this desperate for it. Maybe I should've fucked you before we left the house."

That's all it takes for the coil to snap. You're grateful for his hand over your mouth, catching the moans that fall out. He continues to massage your clit throughout your high, the pleasure crashing over you in steady waves.

"Don't worry, I'll still fuck you when we get back to the house, too," he asserts, placing a kiss on the top of your head. Your thighs squeeze together out of reflex.

.................................................

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@nolita-fairytale @wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @douceurrrr @mercang @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic @live-love-be-unique @guccitearzz @axololly @little-feathered-shit @wordswithoppar @penny44224 @snomu11 @boo8008 @creativitybeware @shinebright2000 @megsiobhan @mattxxamryli @kdogreads

[victoria-daydreams]

Compliments to the Chef

AN: It's here people! I floated the idea and you all demanded it be written. Don't care if there's any inaccuracies about fine dining culture or rules, we're all here for Chef Luca. If you commented on my original post I went ahead and tagged you. I wrote this on my phone because I'm on vacation so excuse any typos or errors.

Taglist: @chiddybangchiddy @emjayewrites @ay0nha @adorabubblesblog @ayoarticulate @blowmymbackout

Word Count: 4.4k

Prompt: Thinking thoughts about writing a fic with Chef Luca from The Bear involving an black!oc/black!reader on a study abroad trip in Copenhagen and them falling for each other.

"How do you even function in this weather?"

The coldness of December in Copenhagen could be quite unbearable at times. In her thick peacoat, Dannie shivered as snow gently fell to the ground in large, fluffy clusters. The tingle of cold air on her golden brown skin felt as if someone was jabbing needles all over her body. It was an unfathomably cold evening and Dannie began to wonder if this outing was worth it.

Aya, a native to the country, only laughed and tugged at the thick knitted scarf around her neck. "You want my scarf?" she questioned, smirking at the American.

Glancing at her friend, red-cheeked from the cold, with snow falling in her dark, springy curls, Dannie shook her head.

"Don't think that will change me freezing my ass off," Dannie retorted, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to maintain some warmth.

Aya laughed again in response, "Come on, we're almost there," she said, linking her arm with Dannie.

Dannie's teeth clattered as the cold wind continued to permeate her coat and her wool sweater. Stiffly, she walked with Aya, her shoes crunching loudly against the snowy cobblestones underfoot. Despite the frigid temperature and the feeling of being frozen to the bone, it was beautiful day in the capital of Denmark. As far as the eye could see, picturesque buildings lined the streets in colorful rows. The vibrant colors of the architecture reminded Dannie of cakes and other tasty pastries. The two women passed by cafes which littered the narrow streets of the snowy city, filled with tourists and locals of all ethnicities and nationalities.

Finally, they arrived at the restaurant, its name written in Danish. Savory scents and muted conversations greeted Dannie as Aya spoke with the host about her reservation. Without a doubt, this was the most expensive restaurant she'd ever been to in her life just based off the interior. After taking their coats, the host showed Aya and Dannie to their table, which offered a splendid view of Copenhagen. A glass of water was poured for her followed by a menu being placed into her hands. Browsing the menu, Dannie's eyes nearly bulged at the prices of dessert alone.

"Aya, why does a desert cost damn near an arm and a leg?" Dannie asked, her brows raising in disbelief.

"Because it’s 'fine dining'," Aya explained simply. "Don't stress about prices tonight," she reassured, with a dismissive hand wave. "It's your birthday, I'm treating you remember?" she reminded.

"Aya, I love you, but I'm helping you pay for this," Dannie stated firmly, placing her hand over her heart. "I refuse to let you break your bank account over a tiny portion of food and dessert," she added jokingly.

"Aya?" a British voice called.

Dannie's eyes flitted over Aya's shoulder to see man dressed in a fitted navy blue shirt and black slacks with a black apron tied around his neck. Aya turned in her chair, her face lighting in recognition.

"Luka! Hej!" she exclaimed, waving him over.

Approaching their table, Dannie realized that this Luca was nothing short of a heartthrob. Strikingly warm blue eyes, tousled blond hair, and not to mention his wide and undeniably strong frame.

"It is so good to see you here again!" Luca said, smiling at her.

Playfully she rolled her eyes, "You don’t know how long I remained on the waiting list to eat here again," she quipped, standing up to give him a quick hug.

"I see you brought a friend this time," he noted, as Aya pulled away from him.

"Yes! This is Dannie, she's studying abroad here and today is her 26th birthday, so we're celebrating!" Aya introduced excitedly. "Dannie, this is Luca, my chef friend I've been telling you so much about!" she said, gesturing towards him.

Dannie gave him a shy smile and offered her hand to shake as Aya sat down.

"A pleasure to meet you Luca, I’ve heard so much about you," Dannie said, her voice laced with the warm southern twang she was born with.

"First, a happy birthday is in order, I cannot think of a better place to attend for such a special occasion," he responded, mirroring her smile. "And hopefully Aya here has only been saying good things," he joked, glancing at her before reaching for Dannie's hand.

The moment their hands brushed against each other, Dannie felt Luca slightly jump at the sensation.

"Good god, your hands are freezing," Luca commented, letting out a chuckle and moving his right hand to the other side of hers. "You need a warm drink in you," he said, in that thick accent of his sending a shiver down her spine.

"Well, I wouldn’t mind a hot chocolate, if a fine dining establishment like this can manage it?" Dannie suggested, enjoying the heat from his hands engulfing her own.

Luca's mouth curled upward and nodded, "Yeah, I think I can manage that just fine," he assured, rubbing small circles against her skin. "I'm sure the kitchen has everything I need for this special request," he informed. "Anything for you—as friend of Aya's," he added quickly.

If Dannie’s was not mistaken, there was a hint of red he saw on the man's lightly freckled cheeks.

"I will be sure to get that out you, Dannie," he promised.

"Thank you Chef Luca,"

Reluctantly, Dannie pulled her hand from his grasp. Silence lingered between them for a moment and blue eyes stared unblinking into dark brown eyes. His intense eyes sent another pleasurable shiver down Dannie’s spine. That look…God, it made the temperature in the room increase by at least five degrees. Aya sharply cleared her throat, snapping them from their heated gaze.

"Right," Luca began, clearing his throat himself. "One hot chocolate coming right up for the birthday girl," he said, with a grin before leaving for the kitchen.

Dannie watched his form retreat. Luca went to rub the back of his neck, clearly feeling sheepish. Three quick snaps drew Dannie’s attention back in front of her to Aya grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Girllll," Aya sung, her eyebrows raised high. "What was that?" she asked, leaning her body forward. "Did I just inadvertently play matchmaker? Is this love at the first sight?" she questioned.

"Listen, it may not be love at first sight, but…” Dannie answered, taking both of Aya's hand. "The spirit of Tamera has fully possessed my body!" she joked, causing both of them to quietly squeal together and lightly stomp their feet on the floor.

~~~x~~~

An hour later

"This has been one of the best meals I have ever tasted in my entire life," Dannie stated, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

Aya hummed in agreement, "Including the specially made hot chocolate?" she asked teasingly, wriggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, the hot chocolate too," Dannie agreed with exasperation, rolling her eyes and laughing.

"Maybe we should send our compliments to the chef, personally," Aya suggested, a mischievous expression on her face.

"No!" Dannie whispered, her face growing hot at the mere thought of Luca coming back to the table.

"Why the fuck not?" she whispered back. "You two were practically eye fucking each other in front of me earlier," she pointed out.

"Okay, but—"

"Excuse me," Aya called, cutting Dannie off and a maître d' promptly was at their table. "The dessert was absolutely phenomenal. My friend here would like to personally send her compliments to the chef who made it," she explained, a barely hidden smirk on her lips.

"Of course, ma'am,"

Feeling utterly mortified, Dannie had taken to hiding her face behind her hand.

"Why would you do that?" Dannie asked, her hand sliding down to cover half her mouth.

"Come on, you’ll thank me later," Aya dismissed, picking up her wine glass. "You and Luca would be such a hot couple together," she said, before sipping her dry red.

"Really?" Dannie asked skeptically.

"Yes bitch!" Aya responded, almost in disbelief she had to answer that.

Dannie grabbed her own wine glass and raised it to her lips, thinking of Luca. His warm demeanor was definitely an attractive trait, as well as his prowess in baking such delicious treats. Any woman with a pulse will find that trait irresistible in a man.

"I was told I've been summoned,"

The sound of a British accent instantly snapped from Dannie from her musings and straighten up her posture. Looking up, Luca was at their table and smiling at the two of them, his hands folded behind his back.

"Yes, hello Chef Luca!" Aya greeted, with a knowing grin. "The dessert was to die for!" she complimented. "Dannie and I just had to tell you in person. Right Dannie?" she asked, nodding encouragingly.

"Everything was superb, Chef Luca," Dannie agreed, "Thank you,"

"You're very welcome and thank you. I'm so glad you enjoyed it," he said.

"Before you go Luca, could you tell the maître d we're ready for the check?" Aya said.

"Ah, yes the check," he replied. "I already have it here," he informed, unfolding his arms and giving the little black book to Dannie.

Opening the book, let out a small gasp of surprise. The receipt showed a balance of zero.

"Are you kidding me?" Dannie asked, glancing back up at him.

"The chef heard it's your first time in Copenhagen, wanted to make this an unforgettable experience," Luca explained.

"Job well done, I'll say," Dannie retorted, chuckling a little. "I fear wherever I go next in Copenhagen nothing will hold a candle to this,"

"Well, I know my way around the city pretty well," Luca began. "I can show you some spots that will blow you away, if you’ll let me," he offered, smiling shyly.

Dannie nodded vigorously with a smile, "That would be amazing, Luca. Thank you," she said, mindlessly playing with her ginger dyed hair.

Luca’a face seemed to brighten and a faint blush starting to cross his cheeks, "Saturday?" he questioned.

Dannie took the pen from the checkbook and wrote her phone number on the receipt.

"Saturday,"

~~~x~~~

Saturday

Dannie loved farmers markets. There was always just a magical feel when she visited one. Now, compound that with the fact that she was in a different country during Christmastime and she might as well been in Winter Wonderland. Above, the sun shone uninhibited in a perfect, cloudless blue sky. With a gentle breeze, snow from the ground and buildings swirled past Dannie as tiny crystals. She could not envision a more perfect day for a first date.

"I think you're a mind reader Luca," Dannie said, stealing a glance at him. "I absolutely adore farmers markets," she informed, with a smile.

"I promised I'd show you the best spots in the city, didn't I?" he reminded, their arms brushing against each other as they walked side by side.

She nodded, "You did," she agreed. "Keeping promises, a good quality to possess. I like that in a man," she stated, their arms brushing again.

Luca smirked, "Noted," he said, smoothly lacing his fingers with hers.

Dannie’s heart fluttered, her chest blossoming with warmth. She could've just melted right into a puddle at that very moment. They made their way deeper into the busy market, walking through the narrow lane as the mouthwatering aroma of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine was soon thick in the air.

Along a few connecting streets, each road was dedicated to different vendors. One street was filled with paintings and handmade jewelry. Another street had fresh produce and jams. While a different different part of the market was selling hot food based on scent alone from how strong it was.

"You know," Luca began. "Aya said you were studying abroad, but you never said what for," he said.

She chuckled, "You're right, we knew you were needed in the kitchen, so our conversation was pretty limited," Dannie recalled, with a nod. "History, that’s what's I’m here. I’m a history major,"

"Ooh, not my best subject," he mentioned, laughing lightly. "History class use to always put me to sleep," he joked.

"Why does everyone say that!" Dannie exclaimed lightly, laughing a little. "You mean to tell me there was never a time period you learned about and just became obsessed with it?" she asked,

"I became obsessed with baking at a young age," he answered. "You, on the other hand, are a true history buff. I can tell just by how excited you’re getting," he stated. "So, tell me, what are your favorite periods to study?" he asked.

"It’s World War I followed by the Roaring 20s, then World War II, lastly the 50s and 60s," Dannie listed, using her free hand to count them off. "I dabble in The Gilded Age as well," she added, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know something within me just gravitated to those periods the moment I learned about them in school. I think it’s mainly the aesthetics, fashion, and music," she explained, smiling softly. "To be clear though, I would never want to live through those eras. The world is hostile enough to Black people as it is. I can hardly imagine what it was like back then," she finished, raising a finger.

When Luca didn't reply after a beat, Dannie began to internally panic thinking she said something wrong.

"Oh no, did I kill the vibe?" Dannie asked, with a horrified expression. "I swear every time I speak about my love of history it always somehow results in vibe killing,"

"No, no," Luca reassured. "I'm just admiring how cute you are nerding out over history, I do the same when it comes to cooking," he explained, with a grin.

"Well, join me in my cuteness and tell me what made you nerd out over cooking," Dannie said, playfully bumping his shoulder.

"I fear the amount of time that would take would consume our whole date," Luca joked.

"And I want to hear every second of it," Dannie said. "I'm dying to know how the man next to me became the esteemed Chef Luca,"

"Alright, you asked for it," he said, letting out a chuckle.

Listening with her full attention, Dannie learned from Luca how at a very young age he’s always had a passion for cooking and because of that he was able to hone in on his skills. Of course, this led to Luca thinking he was ‘the shit’ by the time he got to culinary school, carrying a major chip on his shoulder. That chip stayed him as he progressed into his career until he was unintentionally humbled by another chef after witnessing their skills in the kitchen. Without working with this chef, Luca swears he would not be where he is now had it not been from him.

"So, a slice of humble pie did the trick, huh?" Dannie concluded, her tone teasing.

"Yeah, yeah it did," Luca admitted, laughing and nodding his head. "You can either choose to accept it or deny it. Luckily, I accepted it and changed the course of my career," he went on.

They crossed into the main of the market, stumbling upon the Christmas market . The massive space was filled with all sorts of food vendors, stalls, vendor kiosks, and there was even a petting zoo with a variety of farm animals. At the center of it all, a gigantic Christmas tree stood, towering above everything in the square. The freshly cut pine tree was covered in lights, garland, and ornate ornaments.

"This will always be my favorite time of the year," Dannie sighed wistfully, admiring the lights and decorations around them.

"I remember spending my first Christmas here in Copenhagen," Luca mentioned. "It felt like I was in a movie," he added.

"If it snows on Christmas Day, that would just put the icing on top of the cake,"

He turned to look at her, "You know what, an idea just popped into my head,"

"What?"

"Has anyone ever made you dessert from scratch?"

"Yeah, some family members of mine, but never like a romantic partner or anything like that," she answered, and the realization dawned on her. "Wait—are you offering to do that for me?"

"I am," he nodded. "You mentioned cake and the gears in my mind started turning," hestated. "Plus, all the ingredients I would need are all around me,"

"Making a girl feel special, that must be your superpower Luca," Dannie joked.

“Not just any girl. I like to make you, feel special Dannie,” he corrected, squeezing her hand.

She giggled, "If you’re making dessert from scratch, chances are I won’t be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor tonight,"

"Guess you'll have to come back to my place again tomorrow then," Luca suggested, smirking slightly. "Come on," he said, leading her the nearest stall.

For the next thirty minutes, Dannie and Luca shopped at the farmers market, grabbing everything necessary for the surprise dessert Luca was going to make. Instead of the usual 'divide and conquer' tactic, they remained together, tackling neighboring stalls at the same time. After two laps around the market, Dannie and Luca were at there final stalls. Luca was at a strawberry vendor a few stalls down, while Dannie waited at a honey seller’s. Shifting the weight between her feet, Dannie could feel her feet start to grow tired from walking. Another minute passed before the older woman handed her the jar of honey with a smile.

"Is there anything else you and your boyfriend are interested in purchasing?" the older woman questioned, still wearing a kind smile.

Boyfriend. The term nearly makes her choke on her water she was drinking.

"Oh no, we’re not—" Dannie began, but stopped herself. "Thank you for the honey, ma'am," she finished, nodding her head and placing it in her canvas tote bag.

Not soon after, Luca appeared next to her carrying his own bag of groceries. Automatically, his hand came to rest on her lower back.

"Do we everything we need?" he asked.

"I believe so," Dannie replied, with a nod. "Can't wait for you to wow me again in a more intimate setting this time,"

"I aim to please, love,"

"A fucking pet name? Pick me up from the goddamn floor!" Dannie thought.

Grinning, she linked her arm with his, "Next time, instead you baking for me, I want to be apart of the baking process," Dannie informed.

"You’re already planning for a next time?" he questioned, arching his brow.

"Of course, do you know how rare it is to find a man who has a passion for baking?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow of her own.

"Back to my place?"

"Lead the way," Dannie encouraged, and Luca guided her out the farmers market

~~~x~~~

"I cannot wait to eat this cheesecake," Dannie said, leaning back on the counter and crossing her arms. "Too bad I have to wait until tomorrow to get a slice," she pouted playfully.

"We can have a slice of it over afternoon tea," Luca suggested, carefully placing the cheesecake into the refrigerator.

Dannie rolled her eyes, "Ugh, god you’re so disgustingly British," she teased.

He closed the door to the fridge, "Hey, don’t knock it until you try it," he retorted, pointing the tip of the wine bottle at her that he grabbed.

"I'll have you know, my drink of choice is a strong coffee," Dannie informed, lightly digging her index finger into his pec. It took everything in her to keep a straight face feeling the firmness of the muscle. "Not black coffee though, I'm not a serial killer," she clarified, laughing lightly which he shared. "But because you're so cute, I'm willing to try it for you," Dannie conceded, booping the tip of his nose.

"You'll thank me for expanding your palette," he quipped, causing her to roll her eyes again. "If you would be so kind to get the glasses, love,"

"Since you asked so nicely," Dannie said, moving over to the overhead cupboard.

Grabbing two wine glass, she turned back around just in time to get a perfect view of Luca's back. His shirt was just tight enough that she could watch the flex of Luca's muscles in his biceps and shoulders underneath the fabric.

"So goddamn strong," Dannie thought. "I wonder what it would feel like to have that grip around my hips or my ne—"

The cork escaped the bottle's hold with an echoing pop, snapping Dannie from her impure thoughts.

"You okay back there?" Luca asked.

She cleared her throat, "Yeah, totally," she answered, finally walking back over. "I didn't want to startle you as you opened the wine," she explained, placing the glasses down.

Filling both glasses, Luca handed her a glass first and then picked up his own.

"Cheers," Luca said, tilting his glass.

"Cheers," Dannie echoed, clinking their glasses together and sipping their wine in unison.

Lowering his glass, Luca’s gaze fell back on Dannie.

"After our afternoon tea and cheesecake, how would you feel going to the National Gallery of Denmark with me?" she wondered, swirling her wine around in one hand while the other reached for a blueberry left over in a bowl.

"I would love that,"

"It’s a date then," Dannie smiled, dipping the berry into the bowl of whipped cream and popping it into her mouth.

Pure bliss swept over her face at the sweet and tangy flavor flooding her taste buds.

"Fuck that was so good," Dannie laughed, shaking her head when Luca leaned in towards her. She swallowed. "Luca?" she asked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"Sorry, you…you got a little something…" he trailed off. "Right," he continued softly, reaching out with his thumb and gently wiping leftover whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. His thumb drew across her bottom lip. "There," he finished, dragging her lips apart slightly.

Dannie couldn't move from her spot, and from the looks neither could Luca.

"Silly me, I’m such a slob," she said, the words coming out in one soft breath.

He removed his thumb from her lips, "No, you’re fine," Luca responded, before bringing his glass back to his mouth and quickly downing the rest of his drink. Clearing his throat, he placed the cup back down on the counter. "It might not be the cheesecake, but might I offer you the best strawberry you'll ever eat?" he asked, regaining his usual warm demeanor.

Dannie smirked, throwing back the rest of her wine as well, "You may, since you forbade me from eating any earlier," she reminded, putting her glass down.

Luca grinned, plucking a freshly washed strawberry from the bowl and gently pressed it against Dannie's lips. The move caused a giggle to bubble within her chest and her face to flush with heat. Opening her mouth, Dannie bit down into the perfectly proportioned fruit in Luca's fingers which moved a little. The sweet juices filled her mouth, a drop of it escaping from a corner of her lips.

"How was that?" he asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Mmm," Dannie hummed in satisfaction, closing her eyes and nodding. She waited a moment after swallowing her first bite, still relishing the nectar of the fruit, before speaking. "Certainly the juiciest strawberry I've ever eaten," she responded, wiping the corners of her mouth with the back of her finger. "You flinched slightly when I bit into it," she pointed out, making Luca chuckle.

"I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,"

"Don't worry, I don’t bite..." Dannie promised, her voice dropping a pitch. Instantly, Luca's cheeks flared red at her words. "Unless, you want me to," she teased, and leaned forward to bite into the remaining strawberry.

"Fuck me..." Luca breathed.

Smiling coyly, Dannie turned her back to Luca and started to walk over to the living room. Suddenly, a pair of warm, strong hands gripped her waist and spun her back around. Luca's face was expressionless, but his pupils had darkened considerably and flickered over her face. Dannie met his stare through hooded eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. The tension between them was palpable and it hung thick, making the soft and shallow breaths from both of them more pronounced. Luca ran his hand across her lower back before pulling her closer, dipping his head towards her.

The little space remaining between the two sent Dannie's heartbeat into overdrive. Their faces were barely an inch from each other. Her eyes dropped to his lips, slowly making their way back up her his by way of his jawline. It was as if a dam broke. Within a blink of the eye, Luca pressed his mouth against Dannie's. Inhaling sharply, any and all thoughts flew from her head at the feeling of his lips. Dannie softly moaned into the kiss, her eyes closing while her fingers found their way to grip on Luca's blond locks. Eagerly, she returned the kiss as he walked her back until her lower back was pressed into the edge of the granite countertop.

"God, you're so beautiful," he huffed out before leaning back down to kiss her roughly.

Luca's palms slipped beneath Dannie's sweater to glide across her warm skin, his lips nipping hungrily at her lower lip. Only heavy breathing and the smacking of lips filled the air of the kitchen. With practiced ease, Luca wedged his leg between her own while his left hand skirted around her midsection until it he hooked her leg around his hip. Dannie's hands gently made their way to unbutton Luca's shirt, finally being able to fully appreciate the taut muscles underneath her fingers.

Another moan fell from Dannie, this one breathier than before. His body responded, grounding himself into her. Moving his mouth to the corner of hers, Luca's lips trailed down her neck, peppering open mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. Dannie could only pant his name in quick, short gasps.

"Luca…Luca…." she breathed, her head thrown back.

Slowly, he drew back from her, forcing Dannie to open her eyes and lift her head up. Staring into his smoldering eyes, Dannie was mesmerized by the flush that stained Luca’s cheeks and neck, not to mention his swollen lips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, both their breathing labored.She felt herself chasing his lips as he withdrew. Luca wrapped his arms around her thighs and effortlessly lifted her onto the cool countertop.

"You're too good at this," Dannie commented breathlessly, before capturing his lips in another slow, languid kiss. "I bet there has been many girls in this same position," she suggested, kissing him again while her hands busied themselves with undoing his belt.

"Not on the island darling," he whispered, running his tongue along the slope of where her neck curved into her shoulder, making her shudder uncontrollably.

"No one has had the pleasure of christening this?" Dannie questioned, slowly dragging her legs up to wrap around his waist.

"Until now, no," Luca answered, his face retreating from her neck. "Would you like to do the honors?" he asked, smirking at her.

Her legs tightened around his hips, "Yes Chef,"

[cowboymcflurry]

To Be Alone With You | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: After you had spent an entire rainy Saturday afternoon playing video games on your new Nintendo with your best friend Eddie, he wants to head back home to spend some time practicing the guitar, when the rain turns into a violent storm. He agrees to stay a little while longer when a power outage suddenly plunges the room into darkness…

word count: 1,7k words

includes: first kiss, fluff, making out, friends to lovers, no description of reader, no use of y/n, Eddie is a shy cutie, reader is oblivious, reader’s gender is not mentioned, Eddie gets a boner whoopsie

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“You are the worst person to play Gyromite with, Munson!” you laughed.

“It’s not my fault you can’t communicate!”

“I can’t communicate?” you gasped dramatically. “At least I don’t confuse the buttons - there are TWO!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, laughing out loud while nudging you with his elbow.

“Anyways, I gotta get going. I have to practice some more for our show next week. You’re coming right?” he asked.

“Of course I’m coming.” you laughed. “How could I miss that?”

“Good. If I don’t see you there holding up a sign saying ‘Eddie, I want to bear your children’ don’t even bother coming, okay?”

You broke out laughing. “Alright.”

Eddie would say these things sometimes, things that sounded flirty but you knew he didn’t mean them. It was simply his sense of humor.

“Are you guys like going out?” Robin had asked a couple of weeks ago, after school. Your face had immediately gotten hot and red.

“Uh, no, we’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.” you’d said, while simultaneously imagining what it would be like if you weren’t just ‘good friends’. What it would feel like if he picked you up in his van, and you would go see a movie or get a pizza or do whatever it was that other people your age did, going on dates and stuff. But you knew that Eddie didn’t think of you that way. And you hoped he didn’t know that you in turn did feel about him that way.

Ever since he’d borrowed a piece of paper and a pen from you in Mrs. Marshall’s class you had been under the spell of his dark intoxicating eyes. Then you had run into each other at a concert in Indianapolis, making him realize that you were one of ‘his kind’ as he’d put it. He’d quickly ‘adopted’ you, inviting you to join the Hellfire Club, where you met Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Gareth and Jeff. You never really saw him talking to any girls at school but you knew that a bunch of them had a secret crush on him, whispering about what a great head of hair he had.

Suddenly you heard the rumble of thunder and when you looked out of the window you saw lightning striking in the distance. The storm had gotten worse, the rain violently pounding against your window.

“You sure you don’t want to stay until the storm is over?” you asked, worriedly looking outside. Eddie pulled a goofy grimace.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get home safe. But it’s cute, that you’re worried about me,” he said, winking at you when a loud crash of thunder made him flinch. “Yeah, okay, maybe I’ll wait until it’s over.”

You sat down on your bed, watching the raindrops dripping down your window, when Eddie joined you, sitting at the other end of the bed. Immediately you felt your heart beating faster and when you looked at him, you saw his mouth open, as if he was about to say something, when a lightning bolt illuminated your room for a second, immediately followed by another crash of thunder.

There was a clicking sound and suddenly Eddie and you sat in pitch-black darkness.

“Shit.” you hissed, feeling the hair on your neck stand up.

You heard him rummage through his pockets, when there was another clicking sound, only this time coming from his lighter.

“You have candles or something?” he asked, the flame illuminating his face.

“Uh… Yeah, sure…” you said, watching the flickering light dance off his face for a second too long.

“What?”

“Nothing.” you quickly said, before getting up and stumbling to your desk, on which you’d placed a small candle a couple of months ago. It smelled of fresh laundry and relaxed your busy mind when you were studying for school late into the night. Picking it up you handed it to Eddie, who lit it and then placed it on the window sill right next to you.

“So romantic.” you joked, hoping it would come across the same way it did when Eddie said things like that. But he didn’t laugh. Instead, you saw him looking at the flame, his lips pulling into something that you could best describe as a sad smile.

“Yeah, right?”

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, trying to get him to look at you.

“I don’t know… It’s just…” he slowly began, rubbing his neck.

“What?”

He paused for a moment until he finally met your gaze. His lips slightly parted, as if he wanted to say something only to press them together again. Slowly you reached out for his hand that was loosely placed on his knee, to which he flinched.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” you began, but then you felt him clasping your hand with both of his. You felt his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand, giving you goosebumps which you hoped he didn’t see in the candle-lit room. You’ve never touched his skin before, never deliberately. It was always an accidental brush, that made your face turn hot. But now he held your hand in both of his.

His gaze shot up to your eyes, his thumb continuously stroking the back of your hand.

“I always thought you’d figure it out at some point,” he said softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “But you never did.”

You felt your stomach drop.

“Figure out what?” you whispered.

Another crash of thunder made both of you flinch. After the rumble slowly settled, Eddie bent down over your bed, rummaging through his backpack.

“Here,” he said, placing his headphones on your ears, before he opened his Walkman, turning over the cassette that had been inside and hitting play.

Some keyboard. A guitar riff.

“Lie down,” he whispered, catching you off guard.

“What?”

“Come on, lie down,” he repeated, before blowing out the candle and lying down on your bed, motioning for you to do the same. Reluctantly you did as you were told, lying down next to your best friend you were secretly in love with, while there was a storm raging outside and rain pounding against your window.

You turned your head to the side and caught Eddie watching you listening to the song he had put on, when you realized that he was still holding your hand.

To be something, to be with you Don’t say that you’ll never know

He mouthed the words along, making the back of your head tingle.

Half the time it could seem funny The other half is just too sad This west bound moon’s They rise and fall Lost you and I want you today

Slowly he brought up his other hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, before he gulped and anxiously looked from one of your eyes to the other.

Love to love to love you

You felt your stomach doing a flip. Too many thoughts were racing through your head, but when Eddie propped himself up on his elbows, his face hovering above yours, your mind went blank.

His gaze fell from your lips back to your eyes, his expression nervous, as if he was waiting for some sign, for your permission. Without wasting another second you pulled him down to your face by his collar, planting a short and soft kiss on his lips. When you opened your eyes, you loosened your grip, seeing the surprise in his eyes. For a second you thought you misread things when his lips pulled into a smile.

Slowly he bent down, lifting your chin with both his thumb and his index finger to his mouth. Your noses brushed against each other when he carefully kissed your upper lip, before turning to the lower. Softly you parted his lips with yours, a muffled moan escaping his mouth. Carefully you slid one of your hands up his neck into his hair, while the other was still grasping his collar. You never wanted to let him go and you didn’t know if you ever could. Your kisses slowly grew more passionate, more urgent, as the tip of his tongue slowly found its way to yours, gently brushing it, while his thumb was firmly running along your jawline.

Another crash of thunder made both of you flinch, causing you to break apart from each other, both of you gasping for air.

Eddie’s dark eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, looking both intoxicated and hungry, like an animal that has been starving and finally had gotten to eat. You probably had the same look on your face.

You took off his headphones, slowly propping yourself up on your knees, being less than an inch away from his face. You felt his hand cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your lips before pulling you in another passionate kiss. Eddie’s chest pressed against yours and as you felt something hard brush against your thigh another moan escaped his mouth, making him gasp for air and immediately pull away from you.

Red-faced he cleared his throat, trying to avoid your intoxicated gaze. You took a deep breath and looked out the window, realizing that the thunderstorm had moved on. Dizzily you fell back on your back, faintly hearing the beginning of the next song of Eddie’s mixtape playing while staring up at your ceiling.

When you closed your eyes you felt Eddie lying back down beside you.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered. Your eyes fluttered back open and when you turned to look at him you now found him to be the one looking up at the ceiling.

“I have been for some time now.” he said softly, before clearing his throat, “And I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared it might mess up our friendship.”

You were silent for a few seconds, taking in what he’d just said.

“I’m in love with you too, Eddie.”

His face abruptly turned towards you. Softly, you let your fingers trace his features, his eyebrows, his nose, and his cupid's bow before carefully tracing the curve of his jawline.

“I’m madly in love with you,” you whispered, to which his lips pulled into a wide smile, pulling you closer to him. Your noses brushed against each other, as you looked into each other’s eyes, softly planting kisses on each other’s faces, while the rain continued to pound against your window and the thunder rumbled further in the distance…

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?”  + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[celestianstars]

OHHH THIS WAS SO GREAT! Luca had me flustered as hell oh my god!!

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞

¬ whoops. my fingers slipped and i rewrote some old work. (gif credit: @riickgrimes) @nolita-fairytale here’s that thing i was talking about *wink wink*

¬ warning(s): SMUTT, fingering (f receiving), mention of bodily fluids, over-the-clothes stimulation, CHEF LUCA, mention of alcohol; public sex (in a closet); kinda strangers to lovers; +18/minors dni.

¬ wc: 1.0k

It’s the skirt–that damn skirt, Luca calls it to himself all night–that has you in the situation you’re in now; not speaking and mingling with the guest the speak and mingle just down the hall at the dinner party you both are supposed to be attending.

But, instead, against the wall of a stuffy closet; one of Luca’s hands holding up one of your legs off the ground; the other snuck up under your skirt and pressed over your thin panties, pulling from you a–

“Fuck.” The moan is louder than you mean for it to be, but that can’t be helped. Not when you see Luca’s eyes darken at the sound. That man. That pretty man who you only met all of three hours ago, yet whose digits touch and grab you like they’ve done it plenty of times before. Like they already know everything about you.

His hand seems to move in slow motion as they slip inside the waistband They hover over your center, barely caressing your clit. Your leg raises a little higher as you squirm in his arms needily. The muscle in your thigh pinches in slight protest, but the sting melts away when he re-grips your thigh and lowers his head to kiss you. The small amount of his tongue he slips in tastes of the red wine you saw him nursing earlier.

Your breath hitches when he thumbs just around the tingling bundle of nerves. Enjoying the reaction, Luca does it again. Harder. He almost lets out a moan himself at the gathering wetness he feelings beginning to seep out of you and soak his hand. He soon gives in, finger pressing directly onto your bud, and draws small steady circles.

Pulling back from the kiss, Luca stays close. Close enough to feel your breath fan across his face and keep intense eye contact. His eyes burn but he doesn’t let himself blink. He can’t miss a moment. A second of this and how good you look right now.

The next few moments are a delicious blur of Luca brushing over and around your now-swollen, slick clit. Hot breathes from both you only heating the small room further.

The smallest of whimpers falls out of your mouth when Luca pauses, but you don’t get a chance to ask him why he’s stopped before one of his fingers is plunging inside of you.

Your shaking hand moves to grab his wrist, pleasantly surprised by the action. He gives you and cocky smile and second to adjust just before his finger starts to pump. Deeper and deeper inside your warming core. A wet squelching sounds and Luca glancing down to see your fluids gathering all over the inside of his hand.

He releases a small huff at the sight, promptly biting his skin inside his mouth to hold back the noise stuck in his chest.

Your eyes roll shut as his finger continues in and out of your soaked hole, and they nearly water at the feeling. You shift again to push him further inside of you, a quiet cry leaving your throat.

Somehow, he senses you need more and carefully slides in another finger and pumps with even more intention. A loud noise punches itself out of you when he drags across the spongey spot that not even you can find sometimes.

Both you and Luca freeze, reconnecting eyes. Your heart beats out of its chest as you await the inevitable. You only let out the breath you’re holding when you don’t hear anything outside the door. You can still hear glasses clinking and conversations being held.

As can Luca, who repositions his grip one last time before resuming. This time his pace is faster, and he swears he could come right then and there in the slacks he’s wearing. When you feel him attempt to grind his impressive bulge into nothing but the air, you remove your grip from the shoulder.

Hand pausing and eyes closing, Luca’s head tilts forward when you gently squeeze his rock-hard member through the fabric. He muffles another moan, hastily resuming his movements inside of you.

The hand that’s over his clothes dick begins to move in sync with his own, and both of your chests are heaving now. The fact that it isn’t taking much to fuel the other’s fire is heatedly furthering the clouding desires surging throughout your veins.

He pumps his fingers even deeper. You rub him even harder. His hand moves even faster. Your’s squeezes even tighter. It’s almost as if it’s a competition. 

Who can make the other break first?

It’s just you and Luca now. No one else in the world exists. You know that Luca knows you’re close when his fingers begin working overtime. You have no idea how his hand isn’t cramping, but you thank everything that he doesn’t slow. Now barely holding back your moans, your teeth are digging into your lip painfully hard. Luca is no better, the muscles in his throat noticeably clenching as you continue to rub and squeeze your hand like a woman possessed.

Your aching pussy begins to clench around his fingers, and Luca begins to do anything, everything he can to make you cum. He needs to see you come. Feel it around his fingers.

He meshes his palm–his slippery, shining palm–against your clit for even more stimulation as he drags directly across your g-spot. Eye widening slightly, your hand tightly grips the rumbled fabric of his shirt as a powerful orgasm rips through you.

Luca takes in the sight completely and is mesmerized by the sight your lips forming a small o and head tilt back in what you can only classify as pure euphoria. He bends, hand still in motion, and sucks against the skin of your neck. His eyes shut as he works, tongue dipping out a few times to taste the light layer of sweat and he groans roughly at the taste.

It takes you a minute to regain your breath. Luca lets you come down from your high before pulling away from your neck and removing his fingers. His eyes don’t dare leave yours as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, tongue expertly wrapping around each of the fingers that were just inside of you.

“Shit,” he groans around his fingers before pulling them out to continue, “you taste better than the fucking wine, darling.”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[aestheticaltcow]

Lockdowns & Ladyfingers

Chef Luca x Reader blurb

The Bear Masterlist

Covid lockdowns brought an obscene amount of boredom into Luca’s life. His restaurant was shut down indefinitely, and he’d run out of things to stream and books to read. One laundry night, he made his way down to the washers and bumped into you. You’d moved in across the hall before lockdowns had gone into effect. Luca had been the mysterious guy across the hall who’d leave early in the morning and not return until late into the night. You were curious about him and decided to chat with some of the older women in the building to find out more about this enigmatic figure- and maybe even his name….

“Oh, that’s Luca. He’s a good boy.” “He’s a chef- he surprised me with the most delicious lady fingers a few weeks ago.” “You two would be adorable together.” “Dorthy, would Y/N and Luca be adorable together?” “Oh, absolutely. He’s so handsome.” “So helpful.” “He does his laundry on Wednesdays… if you wanted to ‘run into’ him.” “With all these lockdowns, it must be so hard for young people to socialize with one another.” “Y/N, aren’t you across the hall from him?” “You can always ask him for a cup of sugar.” “Or ask him to open a jar. He has all those cute little muscles.” “He’s single…” The older women's admiration for Luca was evident, and it made you feel a sense of validation about your interest in him. 

The older women's admiration for Luca was evident, making you feel validated about your interest in him. 

After listening to a collection of 75-80-year-old women talk about how wonderful Luca was, you needed to figure out how to run into him again. You saw him entering his apartment one day after taking your dog on a quick walk before bed. “Hey, you’re Luca, right?” you asked as he unlocked his door. He looked at you and nodded, “Yeah- you’re Y/N? Right?”

The two of you exchanged hellos in the hallway a few more times before you worked up the courage to walk across the hall and ask to borrow a cup of sugar. He opened the door shirtless in a pair of black joggers. You swallowed softly before remembering why you’d knocked.

“Do you think I could borrow a cup of sugar?”

[nolita-fairytale]

nolita fairytale's first ever follower celebration

so here's the tea, friends. i think it a little strange to share the number of followers because sometimes i think we all get a little too in our heads about things like this. however, i feel deeply grateful for all of you SO i would still like to do a follower celebration as a thank you for reading my fics and interacting w me on this wild app.

here's what i'm thinking. i will run this from today (8/14 - 8/20) to sunday, as long as requests don't get too out of hand! i’m going to open my request box for the first time EVER. since so many of my fics are focused on the bear, use my ask box, now called "what can i get ya?" and you may request off of THE MENU:

🥐 A blurb: smut, fluff, angst | related or unrelated to fics I’ve already written, or just general fandom x reader / fav ships

🍜 A song recommendation based on what kind of music you enjoy, wanting to be surprised, based on a character, or a gif of mine you love.

🍝 a headcanon

🍳 an au moodboard based on a fav character

fandoms I will create for: harry potter (marauders & golden era), daredevil, the punisher, the defenders, the bear, top gun maverick

that being said, be kind. any rude or unkind asks will be deleted / ignored, and i will not be taking anonymous asks.

[binzlovenicetingz]

POV: Luca’s IG page

“I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.” - Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

@rayan.xasan

[victoria-daydreams]

Thinking thoughts about writing a fic with Chef Luca from The Bear involving an black!oc/black!reader on a study abroad trip in Copenhagen and them falling for each other.

[paranormalactivity5]

you were right in front of me.

༺♡༻

Bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem!reader      

Notes: looked it up and apparently there is a member of hellfire named doug so he’s in this, y/n has an aunt. The confession is based of a tiktok i saw. As always constructive criticism and feedback is welcomed!

Summary: Eddie realizes hes in love with his best trend and a freudian slip occurs.

WC: 1.2k

Everyone was sitting at the Hawkins High lunch table in their assigned but, not assigned seats chatting along as usual, but when Eddie sat down he immediately noticed something was wrong. “Wheres y/n?” “oh she's helping her aunt move today, she didn't tell you?” Steve said confused, the two told each other everything. “No….” he replied confused himself, they did tell each other everything; why didn't she tell him? And this was such a small thing, why was it bothering him?

Gareth arrived at the table, sitting down making an upset “oomph” sound when he hit the chair “What up with you?” Robin asked “Bethany totally shot him down when he tried to ask her out.'' Jeff remarked “Yup, I saw it, he barely got past one word, crashed and burned” Doug said making a fake missile fall and explode with his hand for extra salt in the wound. “You love this too much! I mean you're basking in my humiliation!”. Everyone laughed  and then Robin interjected “Hey don't laugh at him, I'm just as bad, I mean Vicky doesn't know I like her and I can barely get a word in.” She continues to pick at the carrots on her plate. Everyone continues ranting about their relationships or, lack thereof when Dustin butts in “you know you've been awfully quiet over there Eddie?”

“What?” he asks confused “surprised he havent started wailing on about y/n.” Gareth says with a chuckle but quickly shuts up when eddie gives him a glare “Seriously what the hell are you guys talking about?” “how you’re so hopelessly in love with her but she dosent seen to notice?” robin states like its obvious, he dosent notice the smirk on her face when she says the last part. the whole table nods “she's so pretty, her style is so cool!” Jeff remarks quoting eddie “she's so smart!” lucas adds, this continues on until eddie relalizes, holy shit are they right? Is he in denial? I mean yeah he’ll admit that what he feels for her is a bit more then friendship but, is he in love?

Youve been helping your aunt move all day and were exhausted but now it was time to get ready for your weekly hangout with eddie and knowing you were going to see him gave you just enough energy to get there, eat some pizza, and watch a movie. As you were getting ready you were overthinking as you always did before you saw him; Should you wear a skirt? Or would that make it to obvious you were trying to impress him? You landed on just some black ripped jean shorts, some spiderweb tights and a metallica shirt with some combat boots. A simple outfit, a little over the top for movie and pizza but, maybe just enough for eddie to finally get the hint

When you arrived at eddies you hugged him like you usually do but he seemed stiff, which was odd because he would always welcome you into a big bear hug, sometimes even picking you up off the ground! He seemed so uncomfortable throughout all of “little shop of horrors” until you finally made the suggestion that you should smoke a joint and order pizza, maybe it would loosen him up and he would say what was so obviously bothering him

He began to rifle through the drawer next to his bed where he kept his own personal stash and pulled out all the things needed and began to grind up a small nug. Most of this happened silently, whatever was bothering him must be really bad, usually he would be talking up a storm.

He was feaking out, the second he saw her smile and felt him hug her he knew he was screwed. Hes definetly in love. As he was preparing the joint he decided he cant keep acting all weird she might catch on. Hopefully a joint can helf him lossen up.

About 10 minutes of smoking later and Eddie and defineitly chilled out some. Just as you were about to ask him what had him so worked up in the first Place the doorbell rang, Eddie got up to get it quite quickly, “That must be the pizza, ill go get it.” guess he was still a little nervous. In Eddie's head he was once again freaking out. Your eyes were heavy, your voice and body relaxed, you looked so pretty…..you always did, but since the realization he loved you it became increasingly hard to not throw himself into you, hopefully you didnt notice.

By the time he had paid the guy, gotten you both a slice and some beer you had picked up and began flipping through it. “You ever think about your wedding?” you asked “sometimes, why?” “there were some wedding dresses in this magazine…..i bet yours would be like, lord of the rings themed or something.” you snarked while chuckling “i meannnn…” he looks at you with a knowing look in his eye. “No you’re right that would be cool as fuck” you admit “expensive as hell tho.” you nod in agreement. “Well who would i be like your best- maid of- best woman..is that a thing?” or i could be the bride, you think to yourself. “Yeah i think thats a thing”

“Shit I mean you could be the bride who knows” he says laughing. Holy shit holy shit does he even realize what he just said? It seems he does when he looks up and you're staring at him “What?”  “you know like.. it's a possibility…like with all the roles you could possibly take its…in the realm. Not like I want you to be the bride” he lets out a small laugh. He's messing with his hands and touching his hair, which he always does when he lies. Hes lying. “You’re lying” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Huh?” “you’re playing with your hands and your hair while looking down, you always do that when you're lying….You like me?”  “I love yo-” he begins to admit nervously, but before he can get another word out your lips are on his, youre not sure what caused such confidence to come over you, maybe years of pinning. You could tell he wasn't expecting it but he soon melted into the kiss, years of what was thought to be unrequited love being poured in from both sides. 

Once you pulled apart you spent a moment just staring into each other's eyes. You're the first to speak “Why didn't you tell me?” the answer would've made you fall to your knees if you weren't already half straddling him “Baby I can barely hear my own thoughts when I'm with you.” you smile and giggle, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, he does the same. “Robins gunna freak.” you point out with a laugh and his head slightly turns to look at you quizzically. “She's been trying to set us up forever” you state. He thinks back to the conversation from later today…. he's going to have to thank her.

[enretrogue]

𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 (𝟭)

.☘︎ ݁˖ = BLACK/POC WORKS | 23' FIC REC M.LIST

MCU

BUCKY BARNES

Bumblebee Series: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 ⎢ 7 ⎢  — @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖

Soft!Dark!Mafia!Bucky x Runaway Bride!Reader — @angrythingstarlight .☘︎ ݁˖

Peachy Sweet: 1 ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 ⎢ 4 ⎢ 5 ⎢ 6 — @straywords .☘︎ ݁˖

FRANK CASTLE/THE PUNISHER

Apple Bottom Jeans (+Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty

#15 w/ Frank Castle — @bits-and-babs

Bambi With Fangs ⎢ 2 ⎢ 3 — @bubuslutty

Bring Me Home — @frvnkcastles

Bakery AU — @devils-dares

Love Language (+ Billy Russo) — @bubuslutty

Imagine #1,044 (+ Shane Walsh) — @komotionlessqueenmm

Primal — @darlingshane

Instagram AU — @amhrosina

You’re Everything I Never Knew I Needed — @lemon-world1

Cowboy!Frank — @rrestrella

Really Bad Week — @chvoswxtch

“Come here…Hey! I said come. Here.” — @bullet-prooflove

Sanctuary — @glossysoap

Biting Truth — @narcolini

Soft Morning Sex w/ Frank — @amhrosina

Cutesy Blurb — @thyme-in-a-bubble

Frank w/ An Inexperienced Reader — @amhrosina

STEVE ROGERS

His Inheritance: Chapter 26 ⎢ Chapter 27 — @jtargaryen18

FRANK CASTLE + MATT MURDOCK

Spelling Out “I Love You” — @amhrosina

Baking w/ Matty and Frankie — @chvoswxtch

An Unexpected Delight — @amhrosina

TWD

GLENN RHEE

CDC — @collecting-stories

Feel Me — @nikkisheep

Never Stopped Looking — @glennrheesworld

Sex w/ Glenn — @strgrlxox

PEAKY BLINDERS

LUCA CHANGRETTA

Busted — @mlmxreader

Our Scars — @arzennn

MICHAEL GRAY

Behind On That Cute Date ⎢ Chocolate Pie — @anonymooseforever007

ALFIE SOLOMONS

Airport Snow — @there-goes-thefighter

Angel of Birmingham — @darkdevasofdestruction

Quid Pro Quo — @scorpiussage

THOMAS SHELBY

Dragon’s Den — @pherelesytsia

Afternoon Shelby Chaos ⎢The Boys ⎢Dad!Tommy ⎢Mr. Giraffe — @teenwolf-theoriginals

Mama Bear — @dlmlufics

Arthur + Cards — @dlmlufics

Big Sister Bess — @dlmlufics

Escape to Me — @daisyblinder

GEN. PEAKY BLINDERS

The Proposal (Shelby!Reader) — @anonymooseforever007

TGM

COURT GENTRY/SIERRA SIX

Take a Nap Amidst the Storm — @lloydsbitch

Home — @welcome-to-my-multiverse

SIERRA SIX + LLOYD HANSEN

Ready for Destruction (Prologue) — @holylulusworld

STRANGER THINGS

JIM HOPPER

Handcuffed — @thisfanisgonesorry

Taking Control — @call-me-little-sunshine84

Workplace Gossip — @darling-i-read-it

Batch of Cookies — @sunnylands-world

Hopper x Sleepy!Reader — @ddejavvu

DBF!Hopper — @ddejavvu

Final Essay — @keerysteacake

Plain Old Man — @ddejavvu

Out of the Woods — @mypoisonedvine

DBF!Hopper — @empresskylo

[creativitybeware]

Luca is only and STRICTLY for the niggas

That is all

AU: Your boyfriend is a pastry chef and this is his IG.

Luca from The Bear is your bf.

I thought I should create a mock IG grid for the black gals who love Luca from The Bear but haven't seen any AU's with pics that look like them.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 3)

7.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, some angst, putting the "enemies" in "enemies-to-lovers", some sexual references, more childish arguments between adults who clearly want each other

Series Masterlist

“Oi! Coach Buck! Need a hand?”

“Thanks Jamie.” I smiled as I handed my duffel bag to a smiling Jamie Tartt. Just as I was about to ask where he got his adorable headband a gruff voice barked out-

“Whistle!”

With a groan, I turned my attention to the middle of the parking lot, which was full of Whippets and Greyhounds, who, up until a moment ago, were mingling and chattering as they loaded their luggage onto the two team buses. In the center of it all stood Rebecca, still managing to look like an absolute goddess in her ponytail and activewear that probably cost more than I could ever afford, and Roy, standing like a drill sergeant in a black tracksuit, scowling at everyone. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was just angry to be in a parking lot at six in the morning with two professional soccer teams who were acting more like teens going on an overnight trip. But, knowing Roy Kent, that was just his stupid, rugged face.

Rebecca plastered on a smile as everyone turned in their direction. “Thank you, Roy,” she hummed. She turned to the two teams. “Good morning, all!” Everyone called back either mumbled or enthusiastic greetings- nothing in between, although I did notice that most people seemed excited. “Right, so thank you all for being on time. We are just about ready to head on out. But we thought, in the spirit of this weekend, that we shouldn’t all be on our separate buses. Instead, you will be seated with someone from the other team, Greyhounds and Whippets.” There was a pleased buzz among the players. “Just a way to start getting to know each other and becoming that united Richmond community I know we can be.” With those last words, her eyes pointed meaningfully at Roy and then me.

It was all a bit embarrassing. There was no secret at Nelson Road that the reason for the “First Annual Pre-Season Retreat” was because of us. It had become something of a joke. Someone even tried to start calling us “lovebirds” after Rebecca’d screamed at us in the hallway, but Roy had very quickly put a stop to that with just a growl. Of course, no one could stop Lucas from making those same jokes to me in private as we watched Lust Conquers All at my place.

“So, Whippets, you’ll report to your dear Coach Lucas-” Rebecca pointed at Lucas, who stood between the buses holding a drawstring bag. “-and you’ll pull out the name of one of the Greyhounds. Once you have your seat partner, you can start climbing aboard.” She offered me that same tight smile she’d had that day in her office after she screamed at Roy and me. “Coach Buck, why don’t you lead by example?”

Praying my blush wasn’t as bright as it felt, I made my way to Lucas, who looked suspiciously chipper as I dipped my hand into the bag. I felt around the papers before grabbing one, praying I’d get Jamie, or Dani, or Sam, or Nate, literally anyone but-

“Roy Kent,” I read flatly, narrowing my eyes at the still-grinning Lucas. “This thing’s fucking rigged,” I grumbled.

“Of course it’s rigged,” confirmed Rebecca, who I hadn’t realized had moved towards the buses. “You two are the whole reason we’re here in the first place. Now on you go.” She gestured towards the Whippets’ bus. “Any two seats as long as they’re together.” She turned to Lucas. “Go ahead and put the real papers in, please.”

I watched with utmost betrayal (and a little admiration) as Lucas emptied out the bag- which I now realized was full of papers just bearing Roy’s name- and filled it with fresh pages, which held the names of people I’d actually want to sit with.

Roy, whose pained expression probably matched my own, scowled down at me as we headed towards the bus doors. “You don’t get fucking carsick, do you?”

“Nope.” What the fuck?

He nodded. “Good. We’re sitting in the back. Dunno about your team, but mine’s annoying as fuck on road trips, and I want to be as far away from them as possible.” He stomped up the steps, not bothering to glance back to see if I was following him. I let out a deep breath and adjusted my backpack on my shoulder.

When I stepped onto the bus, Roy was already sitting in the very back, arms crossed and eyes focused on the window. Because, obviously, he took the window seat. With a huff, I plopped down next to him, stuffing my backpack between my feet.

“Coach! Can we sit with you?” Jamie had stepped onto the bus, followed by Kira, the Whippets’ newly dubbed captain.

“No!” Roy barked, rolling his eyes.

Despite Roy’s answer, Jamie and Kira sat down in front of us, with Jamie assuring Kira that Coach Kent was just joking. He turned and sat up on his knees to look over the seats at us while the rest of the bus filled up.

“Coach, can we roast marshmallows tonight?”

Roy looked comically disgusted, either by Jamie’s suggestion or the simple fact that the striker was talking to him. “Fuck no.” He turned back to the window.

Jamie pouted and turned his attention to me. “Coach Buck would let us roast marshmallows, wouldn’t ya, Coach?”

“That’s more Rebecca’s call, she’s the one planning this thing,” I reminded him. “Besides, did you even bring marshmallows?”

“Oh, no.”

With a grunt, Roy looked back at us. “Then this is a fucking pointless conversation, isn’t it?”

Jamie lit up again. “Sam brought the marshmallows, actually. I was in charge of chocolate.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed at his player before he looked back at me. “’m taking a fucking nap. If I wake up with a dick Sharpied on my face, I will make sure to find a lake to throw all of your clothes into.”

“I’d be doing you a favor,” I muttered like a child, folding my arms and slouching. “A dick on your face would distract from what a dick you are.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us. In unison, we looked up to see Rebecca, eyebrow arched as she gazed down at us. Fuck, that was the exact face my mom would make when she had to pick me up in the principal’s office.

“Jamie, could you keep an eye on the gaffers here? Make sure there’s no fighting?”

The striker nodded earnestly, clearly intent taking his job seriously. “You got it, boss.”

Next to me, Roy snorted. “What, you don’t want to do babysit us yourself?”

“Oh, no,” Rebecca scoffed. “I’ll be on the other bus. I am not subjecting myself to the two of you for the next two hours.” With that, she whipped around and strutted off the bus, offering us a teasing wave before climbing down the stairs.

I slumped further down in my seat, determined not to look at Roy for what I knew would be the longest two hours of my life.

~

Roy wasn’t sure how long he’d been napping. He just knew that when he opened his eyes, there were trees everywhere, the sky was overcast, the players had finally stopped singing Taylor Swift songs, and someone’s head was on his shoulder.

He looked down out of the corner of his eyes. Her eyes were closed, and her eyebrows were scrunched, and the way her lips twitched made Roy wonder what she could be dreaming about. Him? She’d probably say that was a fucking nightmare.

A small, idiotic part of Roy wanted her to stay there, close to him. Wrapping an arm around her was almost fucking tempting, especially when she shifted closer and he caught a whiff of- was that lavender? Fuck, why did she always smell nice? Another part of him- the logical part, he assured himself- wanted to wake her up by shoving her off of himself and chastising her for drooling on him.

But the part of him that didn’t want Jamie fucking Tartt to narc on him decided just to pretend he was still napping and sit up a little, gently, so that she would slowly wake up, realize how fucking close she was to him, and get the fuck off of him. So, that was what Roy did.

Sure enough, as soon as he shifted, her eyes fluttered open. Quickly, she pulled herself away from Roy, checking that he was still asleep- or at least appeared so. Relieved to see his eyes closed, she turned her face towards the aisle, hoping none of the players had seen her admittedly embarrassing moment.

That stupid part of Roy missed her warmth.

After a bit, figuring she wouldn’t suspect a thing, Roy pretended to wake up, wondering why he fucking cared so much going through all this trouble to save her the embarrassment of being caught using his shoulder as a pillow.He glanced over at her; as if she could feel his gaze, she turned in his direction, her cheeks growing in color the moment their eyes met.

“Don’t worry,” she hummed, cool as ever. “Didn’t draw a dick on you. Couldn’t find my Sharpie.”

Instead of the small chuckle that grew in his chest, Roy gave a little grunt of acknowledgement before pressing his forehead to the cool window, not sure what he’d do if he kept looking at her, in those leggings and that cozy-looking fleece jacket with the little Whippets logo embroidered right over her heart. He spent the rest of the bus ride sitting like that, watching the trees whizz by, listening as Jamie turned around and engaged her in an animated conversation about the places she’d visited in England so far, with both of them giggling when Jamie mentioned that club. Roy’s ears grew white-hot as he remembered that night when all three of them were there. Fucking idiot.

What if he’d been in a good mood that night? If he’d smiled and helped a pretty stranger order her drink? If he’d asked where she was from and discovered she was American? If he inquired about what brought her to England and discovered who she was? Hell, what if he’d done his homework and read the damn report Keeley had written? He’d have recognized her immediately and probably put in the effort to introduce himself. Maybe even bought her that drink, welcome her to Richmond. And they’d smile at each other at work and have pleasant conversations and chat as they ran on the treadmills at the end of the day and share the Dog Track like mature adults and maybe one day, down the road, Roy would ask what she was up to some weekend and if she would maybe be interested in-

Nope. Nope. Shut the fuck up, Roy. Just keep staring at the fucking trees.

When the bus finally arrived at the campground, Roy did some quick math, and realized they’d napped together for about forty minutes. Forty minutes of her sleeping with her head on his shoulder, their faces just centimeters away from each other without anyone shouting or arguing.

Not that it fucking mattered.

Everyone loaded off the buses, chattering excitedly. Finding a good opportunity to put some space between them after the too-close bus ride, Roy helped unload the luggage from the Whippets’ bus, relishing the chance to throw Jamie’s bright pink leather duffel bag in his face.

Once everyone had their belongings, Rebecca waved to get everyone’s attention, projecting her voice in a way that impressed even the gaffers. “Right then. So, we have just a short trek to the cabins. Ladies will be one way, gentlemen the other, and coaches-” The coaching staff perked up. “We’ll be in the middle.”

Roy threw his head back as Rebecca warned the players against turning the weekend into the Olympic Village, which caused more than a few Greyhounds to pout. All of the coaches would be sharing a cabin? More of this co-ed shit? Sharing with anyone would be bad enough, Roy would rather sleep on the fucking bus than have to listen to Coach Beard’s snoring, but having to spend his weekend sleeping in the same room as-

“You know you’re in the way.”

“Fucking seriously?” He turned around and glared at the coach as she adjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder, ponytail bouncing like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial. “There’s an entire fucking forest. Just fucking go around me.”

Jamie Tartt clicked his tongue as he walked by. “Careful, you two, or I’ll have to tell Rebecca you’re bickerin’ again.”

“Fuck off, Tartt,” Roy grumbled, just as Coach Buck muttered, “Can it, Jamie.” The two coaches blinked at one another before following the group along the path, neither of them saying anything more as they walked side by side.

~

“Bunk beds. Of course it’s fucking bunk beds.” Roy Kent scowled and dropped his bag on the cabin floor, right in front of the doorway.

“Seriously, Kent?” I groaned, glaring down at his stupid duffel bag. “Move your fucking bag.”

He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless Roy picked his bag back up and moved further into the cabin. I followed him in, tossing my own bag onto the closest bunk I could find. Slowly the other coaches and Rebecca filed in, all carrying their luggage.

Sitting on one of the bottom bunks, Roy scowled. “Any chance I’m allowed to sleep outside and hope a fucking badger mauls me?”

Before I could second that idea, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Roy, I will assign you and your shit knee to a top bunk if you don’t watch it. Besides,” she continued, “just think of this as one big sleepover. We’ll stay up late, tell ghost stories, share our deepest secrets, and drink the booze I know Coach Beard has in his backpack.”

“Moonshine always makes me feel better when I’m feeling a little homesick,” Beard explained, winking in my direction. I grinned back.

“Right,” Rebecca hummed. “Well, we are all meeting in that big open space once we’re settled in.” She checked her watch. “Doctor Sharon should be arriving soon.”

Nate lit up as he unzipped his suitcase. “Doctor Sharon’s coming?”

Rebecca nodded. “She’ll be running this weekend basically. She’s kind enough to drive back and forth to be with us.”

“We could’ve just driven back and forth?” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck!”

I scoffed as Lucas tossed his own bag on the bunk above mine. “You really think Rebecca’d give us that option?”

“No one fucking asked you,” he mumbled, loud enough that only we could hear.

Lucas gripped my shoulders and steered me towards the doors. “Why don’t we head on out before Rebecca schedules you two some couple’s counseling, hmm?”

About thirty minutes later, both teams were assembled in the amphitheater behind the coaches’ cabin, listening as Doctor Sharon explained what the weekend would consist of.

“… and I did make sure to schedule time for team-building games,” she was saying, which was rewarded with a giant whoop from Isaac McAdoo. “Now, there will be a block of time in the afternoons where you’re able to train with your coaches-” She gestured towards us. “-and I will be set up to meet with anyone who just needs to talk one-on-one during that time.”

My eyes wandered as Doctor Sharon continued to talk about the small groups we’d all been assigned to. It was almost impressive to see the Greyhounds pay such attention; they could be absolute toddlers sometimes with all that energy, but apparently something about Doctor Sharon commanded their respect and attention. She and I had only said hello a couple of times, but already I liked her no-nonsense attitude.

As I continued looking around, a pair of brown eyes locked with mine across the amphitheater. Fucking Roy Kent, making me spend my weekend here, I thought with an instinctive scowl, which was quickly returned by the bearded man.

“Hey,” Lucas hissed as he elbowed me. “Stop undressing that man with your eyes. I don’t care about how much you want to run your hands through his chest hair and let him have his way with you. You are in public, Bucky.”

I broke the staring contest to gape at Lucas. “Quit saying shit like that! Someone’s going to fucking hear you one of these days.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not exactly a huge secret. Everyone knows you two want to shag.” He loved using British slang now, especially when he was being obnoxious. “Well, except maybe you two.”

“Luke, I swear to-”

“So, go ahead and get into your groups,” Doctor Sharon was saying. “And we’ll start our ice breaker.”

Lucas stood and pulled me up with him. “Gee, I wonder who’s in your group.”

“Bite me,” I grumbled as I left him to walk over to Dani, who I knew was in my small group based on the lists Rebecca had given everyone.

“Hola, Coach Bucky!” he greeted with that dazzling smile. “I am so excited that we are in the same group for this weekend!”

I couldn’t help but return his infectious grin. “It’ll be fun,” I agreed. Of course, I immediately regretted my words when Roy strode over to us, already frowning.

“Can’t believe we’re in the same fucking group,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Really?” I scoffed as Kira, Olivia, one of my defenders, and a couple more Greyhounds- Colin Hughes and Richard Montlaur- strolled over. “You think Rebecca wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to punish us even more?”

He only growled in response, which I’d realized was his way of admitting that I was right about something without actually telling me I was right. Fucking idiot. Against my will, Lucas had given me the lowdown on Roy Kent’s romantic history; how the hell did he get models and actresses to sleep with him? He was so damn weird.

Okay, well he had been a successful soccer player and was a pretty solid coach now. Which meant he was famous. And probably pretty wealthy. And obviously in shape. And I could see how some people would think he was attractive in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way way. And even I had to admit that there was something kind of sexy about that growling way he spoke-

Realizing I was staring at Roy still, I turned my attention to the players who’d joined us. “Hey Colin, how ya doing?”

He nodded. “Good, good. Just kind of cold.” He rubbed his bare arms.

Before I could point out his lack of jacket, Doctor Sharon called for everyone’s attention. “Right. Just to start things off simply, we are going to play Human Knot. It’s a great way to practice cooperation and communication. So, please, circle up, grab hands, and, well, you know the rest.”

Our group did as we were told, quickly thrusting our hands into the center and grabbing whoever we could. The next few minutes were full of tugging and climbing over arms and ducking under arms. Despite Roy’s growling, I found myself having fun, laughing with the players as we tried to solve our self-made puzzle, determined to be the first group finished. It wasn’t until we were nearly done that I realized whose hand was holding in my left.

“Whoo! Bucky!” Lucas called across the field as my group spread out into a perfect circle, finished with our game.

Roy’s eyes were fixed on our joined hands, a scowl on his bearded face. I wondered if my hand was warm in his, like his felt in mine. Not that it mattered; the moment Doctor Sharon declared our team the winners of the game, he yanked his hand out of mine, nearly ripping my arm off in the process.

“Dick,” I hissed, rubbing my now sore shoulder.

“Priss,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

“How are we doing here, coaches?” Rebecca, who’d appeared with the stealth of a ninja, clapped her hands on our shoulders, beaming at us with scrutiny behind her eyes, daring either of us to complain.

In unison, we both plastered on fake smiles and chirped, “Great!”

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, Roy watched as she waved goodbye to everyone except him, then went on her merry way to Lucas so they could walk to the dining hall together, hating the feeling he got in his stomach as he watched her figure stroll away.

~

It was the longest fucking morning of Roy Kent’s life. He’d had to play childish icebreaker games, do a fucking relay race that killed his knee, and sit in some fucking hippie circle talking about what it means to be a good listener or some shit. Worst of all, he had to do all of it while trying not to stare at the only other coach in his group.

“How’s it going?”

Because this was shaping up to also be the worst day of Roy Kent’s life, Jamie had appeared at Roy’s side; Roy wondered if the striker had caught him staring at the Whippets’ manager.

When Roy only grunted in response, Jamie continued talking as the two men began walking. “Boy, you really got it bad for Coach Buck, don’t ya?”

Roy stopped in his tracks, fists clenched at his side. “The fuck did you just say?”

Jamie cocked his head. “Coach Buck. You like her, right?” Receiving no answer, Jamie shrugged and kept walking; Roy reluctantly followed suit. “I mean, I don’t blame ya. She’s mad fit and smart and obviously likes football and she’s the only person I’ve ever seen get under your skin more than I do.”

“I don’t fucking like her,” Roy spat, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to hear Jamie’s lunacy. “Can’t fucking stand her, actually. And the feeling’s mutual so don’t worry about me hurting her fucking feelings.”

A small O formed on Jamie’s lips. “Oh fuck, you’re in complete denial then? Shit, I thought you were just trying to keep it a secret until you figured out how she feels.” He patted his coach’s back. “Let me know when you realize you fancy her so we can have a proper chat, yeah?”

Not bothering to wait for Roy’s inevitably expletive-filled answer, Jamie jogged ahead, slowing down so he could walk backwards while chatting with a trio of Whippets.

Finally alone, Roy sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. You’re in complete denial then? Fucking Jamie Tartt, he really was stupider than he looked. Roy didn’t like her; on the contrary, he thought she was the most infuriating person he’d ever met. So fucking argumentative. He’d yet to have an actual conversation with her; how was he supposed to tolerate her, let alone like her?

Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t fucking like-

“Coach Kent.” Doctor Sharon offered a small smile as she approached him. “Mind if I walk with you?”

Roy cleared his throat and his mind. “That’s fine.” He bobbled his head from side to side. “Can’t believe they got you to drive up here for this shit.”

Doctor Sharon’s smile became a smirk. “Can’t believe you’re the reason for ‘this shit’, as you call it.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Listen, I’m fucking sorry everyone has to give up their weekend, but come on, we all know Rebecca was the one who came up with this idea, fucking blame her.” He shrugged. “She could’ve just sent us to go do some fucking mediation with you and be done with it.”

The doctor shook her head. “Roy, this is about more than the two of you. This is about two teams becoming a community. It’s something Ms. Welton feels quite strongly about. She wants the Whippets to be successful, and she thinks having the Greyhounds in their corner is a key part of that. You can understand that, right?”

Roy shrugged. “Fucking guess so,” he mumbled as they approached the dining hall.

“And it doesn’t help things when her two managers are at each other’s throats all the time, does it?” Doctor Sharon asked pointedly.

“No,” Roy admitted with a defeated sigh as they joined the line for food.

Once they’d loaded their trays with whatever food Roy couldn’t be bothered to try to identify, Roy heard someone call his name. When he turned, he saw Coach Lucas waving at him from a table with all the coaches and Rebecca; only one of them looked annoyed at the sight of him.

“Come on, then,” Doctor Sharon said as she nudged Roy. “Good opportunity for you two to practice being civil.”

Roy reluctantly followed Doctor Sharon to the coaches’ table, grunting as they were greeted. Internally, he groaned when he realized he was sitting directly across from the Americans.

While everyone ate, Roy did his best to focus on Beard sitting to his right, he really did. But he kept feeling his gaze shift across the table, where he’d catch glimpses of her smiling, laughing, joking. He especially hated the way his eyes lingered on her mouth when she sipped her water through the straw of her water bottle; even without her red lipstick, he couldn’t help the way his eyes continually settled there, wondering if those lips were as soft as they looked.

“Roy? Did you hear what I said?”

Blinking and praying to whatever deity was listening that no one had caught him ogling, Roy turned to look at Nate on Beard’s other side. “What?”

Nate leaned forward. “Rebecca was telling us about a nearby field we can use for training. D’you want me to go ahead and set up cones to make the pitch?”

 Roy nodded. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

The lips he really wished were out of his eyeline started moving. “You want some help Nate?” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a brief moment. “We’ll be using it too, after all.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Coach!” Nate beamed and picked up his plate. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes returned to Roy as she grabbed her plate. She stood up and stared at him for a moment, head slightly tilted. It was an unreadable stare, one that didn’t hold her usual fiery anger. It was a look that made Roy’s stupid heart flutter for a brief moment.

Of course, she couldn’t know the effect she had on him. Fuck no. So, he let his eyes narrow at her suspiciously, much to the chagrin of an observant Doctor Sharon and the amusement of a perceptive Coach Beard, and was rewarded with an exasperated eyeroll.

“You’ve got fucking spaghetti sauce on your shirt, Kent,” she huffed.

Roy didn’t check his shirt until she had turned on her heel, put her plate in a stack of dirty dishes by the kitchen, and strutted out of the dining hall with Nate right behind her. It was only once she was out of sight that Roy looked down at his chest, where a small splatter of red stained the bright blue of his Richmond jacket, right above his stupid, stupid heart.

Fuck.

~

As much as Rebecca wanted to torture us that weekend, she still wanted winning teams. So, after Doctor Sharon’s presentation on “healthy communication methods” (during which Roy Kent communicated his annoyance by healthily glaring at me pretty much the whole time), the teams were dismissed to go to the pitch Nate and I had set up.

“Oi.”

I turned away from Lucas, who’d been asking about our warm up. Roy towered over me, his fingers twitching slightly as he stared at me. He looked like the slightest movement would spook him, so I simply raised my eyebrows to let him know I was listening.

He cleared his throat. “If you want, we can work on the north half of the pitch. You can have the shade.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lucas’s jaw drop slightly. It was hard to blame him; Roy Kent was speaking to me civilly. Even worse, he was offering to do something nice. Nate had to have put him up to it. Or Beard. Hell, knowing Rebecca, she’d probably threatened him into it.

Not that I was going to turn it down.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied. Lucas nudged me sharply. “Thanks,” I quietly added.

“Hmmph.” With a curt nod, Roy headed to the north side of the field, where, with an earsplitting “Whistle!”, he gathered his team.

Lucas blew his actual, physical whistle and had Kira lead the Whippets in warming up. With the team occupied, he turned to me. “Well, wasn’t that sweet,” he hummed, waggling his eyebrows.

Eyes glued to my players, I scoffed. “It was the least he could do, considering how we landed here in the first place. Besides, everyone’s chomping at the bit to rat on us if we start fighting. He’s probably just trying to make it look like he’s the bigger person.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Lucas laughed, turning his attention back to the team. “But hey, stay in denial, that’s fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you wake up in that man’s bed someday.”

The punch that landed on his arm would end up leaving a bruise that lasted for several days.

On the bright side, at least my assistant coach shut up and focused on practice. Sharing the field proved a bit difficult, but I found solace in the fact that Roy Kent was suffering just as much, having to pause when one of our balls ended up on their side or realizing he didn’t have enough space for a certain drill. As the afternoon came to a close, I blew my whistle and called my team over.

“Great job, all,” I declared. “I know it wasn’t our normal practice, so I really appreciate your patience.” I glanced at my watch. “You’ve got about forty minutes til dinner, so you’ve got some free time. Shower, rest. Don’t forget Doctor Sharon’s available, too.”

Kira Malone spoke up. “Actually, Coach, we’re staying out here for a bit. You’re welcome to watch if you want.”

Lucas and I exchanged looks. “Okay,” I said slowly, trying not to show my confusion.

The Whippets stayed on the field, kicking around a couple of balls. It took a moment, but I realized they were watching the Greyhounds; no, they were waiting for the Greyhounds. The moment Roy dismissed the men, they jogged over to the women, and everyone began chattering excitedly.

“What the hell are they doing?” Lucas whispered as we planted ourselves on the grass.

I shrugged. “No clue.”

Each team lined up at one end of the field, everyone looking exhilarated, bouncing on their heels and smiling. Nate strolled over to us, holding a ball in his hands.

“You two staying to watch?”

Lucas tilted his head. “What exactly are we staying to watch, Nathan?”

A knowing grin spread across the assistant coach’s face. “Oh. You’ll see. Isaac and Kira had the idea during lunch.” He turned and walked to the center circle, where he placed the ball as if a game were about to begin. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Roy and Beard standing by the goal post, watching with just as much interest and muttering to one another.

When Nate, who’d moved off the field, blew his whistle, Isaac and Kira, who were first in line, sprinted forward, racing towards the ball. Kira reached it first and began making her way towards the men’s goal; Isaac managed to steal and ball and take it the other direction. After a bit of back and forth, Isaac scored, eliciting thunderous cheers from both sides. Lucas and I exchanged glances. What the heck?

Colin Hughes and Cheri Willis competed next. Then Sam Obisanya and Sandra Finley. On and on. Eventually, every player had ran up to the ball and had a little one-on-one with a member of the other team. When Kira and Isaac ended up at the front of the line again, both lines rushed forward and, keeping their lines, exchanged giggly high-fives- as if they were children after an AYSO game instead of professional athletes.

As the players mingled and laughed, Beard and Nate made their way over to us; Roy followed, keeping his usual distance.

“Did you guys know about that?” Beard asked, eyebrows raised over his sunglasses.

We shook our heads. “You?”

Nate perked up. “Isaac told me about it during training. I guess during lunch one of the Whippets mentioned how much she liked doing playing that after practices as a kid, everyone thought it sounded like fun.” His smile turned thoughtful. “That looked like a blast for them. I had fun just watching them,” he added.

“Me too.” We all turned; there was Rebecca, watching us with an amused grin. “That is what this weekend is about.” She pointed to the players, who were beginning to make their way to cabins and showers, laughter on their lips and springs in their steps. “Respect. Collaboration. Community.” She eyed me and Roy, who’d slowly made his way over once he’d caught sight of Rebecca. “Something we could all learn, hmm?”

Roy and I turned our gazes to one another; I could tell he was trying just as hard as I was not to narrow or roll his eyes, or let out an annoyed huff, or make a snarky comment. We both knew Rebecca was waiting for us to surrender and call a truce. Maybe even pay a compliment about each other’s coaching. Hell, just a mutual nod of agreement would be enough. Just offer her some glimmer of hope that the entire season wouldn’t be all bickering and screaming.

But neither of us was willing to yield first.

“Gonna go take a fucking shower,” Roy mumbled, turning and following the players back up towards the cabin, his head ducked downward, as if he felt the same embarrassment I felt. I wondered if he was also asking himself, Why is this so fucking hard?

~

Roy banged the back of his head repeatedly against the cabin wall. This was stupid. Childish. A fucking waste of time. And he wasn’t positive, but he thought it might be a human rights violation.

Despite the players’ little game and Rebecca’s “one happy family” moment after training, they’d found a new opportunity to argue: Roy had left his towel hanging from the wrong bunk. And of course, that was a fucking problem. Because everything was a fucking problem, apparently.

“Alright, I’m done!” Coach Beard scolded, reminding Roy more of an exasperated father than an assistant coach. “You two, with me.”

The still seething managers reluctantly followed Beard along the dirt path to a small cabin, more of a shed really, filled with tools and gardening equipment. Beard opened the door and gestured for them to go inside.

“Excuse me?” she had squeaked as Roy grumbled, “What the fuck, Beard?”

With an eerie calmness that made Roy’s blood go cold, Beard nodded towards the shed. “Go inside. Do not come out until you figure out how to get along. Or you’ve banged this thing out of your systems. Or one of you is dead. At this point I don’t care.”

“I doubt Rebecca’d be okay with this,” Coach Buck tried, clearly as desperate as Roy not to go inside the shed. “Or Doctor Sharon.”

Coach Beard laughed in their faces. “Do you two really want Rebecca to know you’re fighting again?”

Fucking Beard. He had a point.

So now Roy sat on the floor of a fucking storage shed, with no light but a bare bulb above them, trying to stay in his little personal space bubble as best he could, trying not to flinch every time their knees bumped, each tiny touch sending Roy’s heart into overdrive.

“Can’t believe I’m missing the fucking s’mores to sit in a shed with you,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the same wall Roy was trying to kill himself on.

Roy snorted. “Really? You’re upset over marshmallows? That’s the most American shit I’ve ever heard. And I played for fucking Lasso.”

She tilted her head towards him, the soft light on her face making his chest tighten almost painfully. “Yeah, Kent. I’m upset over fucking marshmallows.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m missing a bonding experience with my team, idiot. You’ve coached the Greyhounds for what, three years now? And you played with most of those guys, right?” She wiped some dirt off her knee, brushing his knee as she did. “I’m still getting to know my players. Earning their trust. And I’m missing an opportunity to spend time with them off the field because I have to sit in this shed with you.”

There was a heavy silence as Roy took in her words. She was always pointing out the differences between their experiences; he was experienced, she was new, he was home, she was an outsider, he was a man, she was a woman.

Of course, when she was feeling particularly feisty, she’d also remind him that she was an Olympic champion. Which he was not.

To his surprise, she broke the silence. “Tell me about Lasso.”

Roy furrowed his brow and stared at her. “What?”

“Ted Lasso.” She shrugged. “You all keep talking about the guy. This American manager who got Roy Kent to actually tolerate him.” She narrowed her eyes, a hint of playfulness behind them this time. “Kind of curious how he managed that.”

The snort that came out of Roy’s nose surprised them both. “Dunno. He fucking wore me down with how fucking kind he is. Made me fucking soft. Wanker.”

She nodded. “So, if I’m aggressively nice, you’ll stop rolling your eyes every time I walk into the room?”

“Maybe.” Roy didn’t bother to stop the corner of his mouth from tugging upwards. “You’ve got to be real fucking annoying about it, though.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone knows you think I’m annoying as fuck already.”

Both coaches let out breathy chuckles, each thinking about how silly, and ridiculous, and stupid this whole thing was. They were fucking adults, after all. Professionals. They both wanted to lead their teams to victory; and, if they were being honest, both wanted the same for the other coach’s team.

So why the fuck were they in a fucking shed in the middle of the woods?

Roy took a shaky breath, not sure where he was going with this. “It’s impressive, you know,” he murmured. “The whole moving to a new country to start a new team shit. Don’t know how you did it.”

Even in the dim glow of the lone bulb, he could see her face tint pink. “It’s kind of fucking scary,” she admitted softly. “But it’s also kind of the coolest shit I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah,” Roy agreed, shouldering her playfully, amazed by his own actions. “Even I have to admit, it’s pretty fucking impressive.” He bobbled his head and rolled his eyes. “Almost as impressive as an Olympic gold medal.”

He liked the sheepish grin she shot him. It looked good on her. “Alright, I might bring that up a lot. But no one gets mad at Michael Phelps for talking about his.”

“That bastard has, like a million of them,” Roy laughed, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time since he’d walked into the changing room on her first day. “But I guess you have a fucking point. It’s impressive,” he repeated.

“You know what’ll be really impressive?”

Instinctively, Roy leaned closer, not caring if she noticed the way his eyes flickered down to her mouth, still gorgeous even without that red lipstick. “Hmm?”

Her raised eyebrows told him that if she noticed, she didn’t mind. “When both of our teams win the whole fucking thing at the end of this year.”

“I hate to break it to you, but Chelsea did that a few years ago,” Roy informed her.

“So? Fuck Chelsea.” She was completely grinning now, a sight Roy couldn’t believe was all his to witness, rather than stealing a glimpse of a smile meant for someone else. “We’re fucking Richmond. You guys are, like, perennial underdogs, and we’re a brand-new team led by an American. That’s some fairy tale shit.”

Roy nodded softly. “Fairy tale shit,” he repeated. “I like it.”

Before Roy could do something about the warm feeling in his chest that he hoped she was also having, there was a buzzing noise coming from her pocket. With a frown, she pulled out her mobile, clearing her throat as she glanced at it. Unable to help himself, his eyes flickered to the screen, where he saw fucking George Willows’s name above a text message.

“Guess I finally got a fucking signal out here,” she joked, locking her phone and darkening the screen. She looked back at Roy. “So, fairy tale shit?”

Roy leaned back, putting distance between them again- physical and metaphorical. “It’ll be a good season,” he said bluntly, ending whatever moment he decided was one-sided. “I’m sure your team’ll do fucking fine.” He paused, finger tapping on his bad knee. “D’you need to text fucking Willows back? Set up an interview or some shit?”

This time, the color on her cheeks wasn’t for Roy. “Oh, yeah. He wants to do some profiles on the Whippets, so we’re setting that up.”

Roy let his head fall back against the wall, wondering how hard he’d have to hit it to give himself a concussion. “Shouldn’t you let Keeley deal with the devil? It’s part of her job.”

She sighed. “He’s not the devil. He’s a nice guy. And I don’t mind helping out.” Smile now completely gone, she frowned at Roy. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you, Kent.”

“No,” he agreed. “Guess you fucking don’t.” He stood as suddenly as his knees would allow, nodding towards the door. “Come on. Let’s just fucking tell Beard we apologized to each other and agreed that ignoring each other is the best course of action.”

“Fine.” She hoisted herself up, slower and more carefully than Roy expected. “Thanks coming up with that idea right now instead of, oh I dunno, an hour ago.”

Not quite looking at Roy, she brushed past him, giving his shoulder a little shove with her own, and threw the door open. Roy stood in the doorway and watched as she walked, not to the campfire, where the sounds of laughter and joking and even singing could be heard, but instead to the coaches’ cabin, her shoulders slumped and head down.

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