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neonovember · 10 days ago

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Okay hear me out, how would carmen react to someone he's dating being a "picky eater" that has a VERY limited diet due to sensory issues👀

This is totally not self-indulgent /s

Eeeee

carmen berzatto x reader

enjoy some bear fam ribbing and carmen carmen carmen

honestly I think he’d be interested if anything! His mind is constantly on overdrive thinking of recipes and foods and the combinations of flavours, and how to change this and tweak that. He could run on fumes, just a jar of tums and his notebook and spend the night brainstorming dishes. We’ve all seen it, it might be a way for him to distract from the hellish that is his social life outside the Bear, by bringing it home too. So when he meets his girl, who’s got a palate that is entirely different to anything he’s seen before he takes it as almost a challenge to push himself to produce something amazing, creative and yours.

You’re his girl, he has this carnal need to take care of you, and can you imagine if you were nervous or worried about what he might think??? No he’d run his thumb along your thigh, while you're on either side of him wrapped in the covers that were warm from the morning sun and just raise his eyebrows and snicker in that way he does. And it hit him that your exes were dipshits and never listened to you and he’d gather you in his arms and murmur how you could watch him cook for you every day if you wanted to.

And he held true to that, he’d sit you down on the counter after hours in the Bear later that night. You’d sneak in, when you’re craving for something that the places around you can’t offer and Carmen is just fucking itching to serve you food and show off his fucking Michelin talent.

It would be a ritual, you watching and him making. He’d serve it to you all pretty and clean, leaving his serving to be eaten from the pan. And he watches every expression on your face, every quirk and flick of your eyebrow and he’d know, god he’d know what you were thinking in that moment. If you liked it or not, if it triggered one of your senses into overdrive and had you trying to hide the way your teeth scraping against a certain component left you shivering in disgust.

He’d know and he’d rush to give you water and make you spit it out despite your protests. And you shake your head in anger at the things you can’t control and Carmen will sit with you on the floor of the Bear and he’d smile in that way he does, as he’d ask about every part and force it out of you until he’d be changing the meal entirely.

Showing you the things you can control which was making your boyfriend who cooked for a living, cook.

He’d be protective over you I feel like, after you tell him bad experiences that had ruined your relationship with food. Making sure no one gave you shit about it, always on guard, eyes in slits and voice gravelly when waiters double check your order or look anywhere but their fucking notepad.

The team is a whole other situation… I imagine it to be a whole team involved in a sit down investigation, an entire intervention by them because they are just so confused and scared (which is actually hilarious) that you were barred from eating certain foods or something.

-- -

“Okay, okay, how about pasta alla vodka” Tina muses, a grin pulling at her jaw as she leans back against the cheap plastic chairs that were reserved for the house.

“Nop, don’t like those bits of tomato they leave in the sauce” You shrug, chewing on your straw as you watch the way the rest of the team rears back in dismay.

Tina’s face drops, stubbornly pulling out a dollar bill and slapping it into Richie's grinning face.

“I thought I had it dammit” Tina groans, muttering about losing to a fake Italian divorcee who skimped her out of a chocolate bar.

You're all scattered in the back of the Bear, popcorn and peanuts are littered amongst half emptied bottles of beers on the large metal table that spans across the room. The Bear had been closed today, some sort of team building attempt at brainstorming new ideas for the menu and the Bear itself.

Much to the annoyance of the rest of the crew, who had to make the commute in a freezing Chicago winter on a day that was supposed to be a break, somewhere along the fights that erupted at every suggestion and the stubbornness that remained in each of the team it did feel a little like family bonding.

At least it felt like it now, as they all collectively came together to study you.

That's where you found yourself, being pulled into the never calm-always-catastrophic environment of the Bear thanks to Carmen. You had protested at first, thinking you would be out of place in the sea of decorated chefs but as your phone dinged with messages from Syd and Richie, the latter earring on a very thinly veiled threat to ‘be there or i'll come and get you’ you found yourself throwing on a too thin jacket and knocking against on the Bear’s ‘closed’ sign after your shift.

You were greeted with the warmth of the Bear, breathing it in deeply before you realised that the smoky heat of the restaurant was as much fueled by the temperamental crew screaming out obscenities in the back as much as the radiator Fak had somehow fixed for the 15th time.

You didn't quite understand how you got here, you in the middle, and the team surrounding you firing out questions about your less than conventional palate.

Carmen's disgruntled protest against the team channeling some sort of crud rip off of True Detective did little as the team went around listing dishes from escargot to cheese on bread to get your opinion.

It was downright ironic, you know this. You are someone who couldn't stand the texture and smell of certain foods to the point of having them struck from your diet with a man whose entire life was surrounded by, and birthed from the complexities of texture and taste.

“It’s one of the stables of Italy!’ Richie barks, stuffing the dollar bill into his pocket hile shaking his head.

The beer he had opened had gone cold in his hand since the beginning of the conversation. He couldn't stop his mouth from remaining hung open after every shake of your head and shrug of your shoulders towards the meals they loved.

You wondered if chefs have the same value systems as other..tightly knit organisations. One where disrespect leads to your swift removal…off the face of the earth. You don’t let yourself forget that they are skilled in the goddamn wielding of knives no matter their friendly chiding, you might be one shake of your head away from being prepared in all the ways you hate your food to be.

Carmen looked at you, his eyes straining across your body to check if you felt uncomfortable. He knew your tells almost as well as you know, and he'd be quick to shut it down and take you back home if need be. But as your eyes meet his, and the squint of a smile reaches them he shakes his head, mouths a “goddamn idiots”, and rolls his eyes at his families curiosity.

“Listen, I get that, I don't like bits of bone in my meat. But surely, for a dish that you know I know you know tastes like the fucking gates of heaven, you can make an exception” Syd blinks, her face filled with expectation, like she thought it was obvious.

You’re giggling at Sydney words, “Is this reassurance for me or for you”

“Me. It’s for me” Syd gulps, blinking as she registers the truth

“I just can’t eat food, no matter how good you guys tell me it is, that fucks up my sensory issues-”

“Alright, yeah, sensory issues, darling I bet if i could bring you to ONE dinner, one of our dinners at Carmen's Ma's we could easily persuade you-”

“Jesus fucking Christ-”

“No, no look Carmen. This is your woman ain't she? How can you let her walk around without letting her taste the delicate crossroads that produce Chicago- Italian cuisine? I mean you're seriously failing-”

“Fuck you”

“Goddamn fake”

The irony of it all was, you and Carmen had both met at a farmers market. Surrounded by food you wouldn't eat, at a place you didn't frequent, all for one particular food you did eat. And somehow, despite passing by 95% of vendors without even a swipe of your eye against their delicate colors and shapes, Carmen had bumped into you.

And he had apologies and you had crouched down to collect the runaway potatoes and fruits that tried to escape through his pouch, and your fingers had collided when you looked up to see the man who had interrupted your 15 minute venture.

Through the blurted out line of apologies, Carmen had stopped and looked at you and tried to reopen his hanging mouth. And you sat there half amused and half worried he was having a stroke.

“I know this is forward and you can tell me to go to hell, but could I take you out sometime?”

You had caught the last of the disobedient root vegetables when you raised your eyebrows in surprise, and let yourself be shocked again as you said yes.

Carmen had nodded and smiled when you told him you weren't exactly experimental with your diet, wanting to get it out of the way when you found out he was a chef and your sensory issues had been a problem for people who didn't make food for a living.

You expected the same ritual, the same dance of having to explain your diet to people and wait for them to actually understand that your pickiness wasn't just the usual ‘dislike’, but a very real thing that impacted how you eat everyday. You had no choice in it, that's what you told them every time and they had rolled their eyes and thrown your words in your face as they compared you to a petulant child that didn't want to eat their vegetables. You sighed and they did too, as they watched you flip every menu to the page for children and you cringed as the waiter looked around for your child and realised it was you.

Carmen was different though, of course he was. He didn't let his surprise go hidden, as he asked about every food you disliked and everyone you did. Noone before asked, they simply resolved to assume your diet was constricted in the small section of the kids meal. But Carmen asked, he did all night when you had brought it up after he asked to cook for you. Sitting on your couch, talking about you, and your diet, and your sensory issues for hours until he knew everything about them.

Until he simply nodded, and wrote something in his notebook and asked if you were still free on Thursday.

Of course the family was teasing, and of course they’d all tweak any dishes you were craving so that they weren't overloading your senses in any way. You’ve got a reserved seat at the Bear, and all your favourite dishes on standby if you ever wanted to come in to find something that didn't set you off and leave you anxious and sensitive.

It gets to an alarming rate of you coming in nearly every other day, in which Richie, Carm Syd and every other person in the Bear constructed some under the table deals with dea by restaurants to accommodate your sensitivities. They all like to feign ignorance when you walk in the next day all smiles, showing off your little takeaway box from the Portuguese spot you had so desperately to try before the stark textures and flavours of the menu you perused dashed the thought away.

Carmen hated seeing that excitement turn into defeated acknowledgement of the barriers you had around food. But also, in the same breath, Carmen knows how certain textures and tastes can trigger you into getting over-stimulated, leading to becoming frazzled and irritated. Which is exactly why he would never let you push yourself too far, supporting you if you ever wanted to try it out but immediately taking the dish away from you when he realised your heart was racing too quick and you were getting stiff..

“Baby, easy. Need you to go slow, yeah?”

“Alright, that’s enough. You did good sweetheart, I’m proud of you. Lemme make you something for tonight though yeah? Something you like?”

The truth was there were going to be some days where both Carmen's creativity, and your sensory issues outdo him. You were okay with that though, you were still catching up to reality that someone loved you enough to fit their life around yours.

And then Carmen copied your meals for a week when you told him this, until the Bear was relying on his memory of taste and you finally agreed that yes, there was no fitting needed.

#neonovember #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto drabble #neo's requests #carmy berzatto masterlist #carmen berzatto imagine #fluff #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x black!reader #carmen berzatto x picky!reader

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cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

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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.

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catharticconsolation · 19 days ago

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announcement time!!

I have decided that while I have the free time and opportunity to do so, I'm going to start writing on here!! They'll probably be only blurb length and I desperately need prompts sending in, because I desperately cannot think for myself. I'm willing to write up some of my bots into more in depth blurbs.

Please, please send in requests and prompts for fics or blurbs as well as bots, because I am so excited to start getting creative again!!

current characters i'll write for:

shameless: lip, ian, carl, fiona, kev, veronica

the bear: carmy, syd, richie, marcus

the iron claw: kerry, kevin, david

challengers: art, tashi, patrick

rivals: declan o'hara, rupert campbell-black

please send requests for blurbs into my asks, the google form is only for character ai bots xx

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sageispunk · 7 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

'belongs to another' - jimmy uso x black!reader

angst, smut, fluff, infidelity, weed use • 1.7k words

'untitled' - jey uso x black!reader

alcohol use, groping, teasing, smut • 433 words

'as nature intended' - silas p. silas x black!reader

smut, hairy coochie praise • 279 words

'untitled' - erik stevens x black!reader

they're roommates, teasing, tickling!!, smut • 1.1k words

'4/20' - terrance coin x black!reader

weed use, neighbors to lovers, age gap, smut • 503 words

nsfw alphabet - fontaine x black!reader

no warnings • 1.2k words

'untitled' - richie jerimovich x black!reader

pt. 2 of that drabble, somno, voyeurism • not started

'might be' - richie jerimovich x black!reader

pt. 2; weed use, smut, pining • not started

A/N: i know you guys have been waiting on Fontaine's nsfw alphbet for a minute but it just needs a little more time (I want it to be perfect🫣)..I'm hella excited about the Jimmy fic, I spent like 2 hours writing it last night and right now I'm just stuck on how I want to finish off the first part (there will probably be a couple parts). My Richie fics are just continuations of a couple things I've already uploaded and will likely be started around the time Bear s3 comes out (basically when I rewatch). The tickling Erik oneshot is probably gonna be the kinkiest thing I've ever written tbh and I can't wait to share!!! Method Man characters because I'm a big softie for that man in all eras of his life. And obviously the Usos because them WWE boys have a GRIP on my soul right now

#my roster is all over the place #but these are some wips im extra excited about #wip wednesday #black writers #black!reader #jimmy uso #jey uso #method man #fontaine #richie jerimovich #fanfic #x black reader #sageispunk #erik stevens #erik killmonger

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zombster · 11 months ago

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richie with a high maintenance/sheltered girl??

but maybe you guys met in highschool where Mikey was still alive. since you’re sheltered with strict parents, you’re drawn to richie and Mikey’s lifestyle. you get especially close to richie.

one day you guys all do something really stupid and your parents find out and ban you from hanging out with them. and you go back to being that sheltered/ high maintenance girl.

richie moves on and meets tiff. you go to college and become a lawyer?? you come back to chicago (because that’s how these stories work 😭) and see richie.

some things i’m debating:

1. is reader divorced or going through a divorce ?? pros: makes it angsty | cons: i’m lazy and don’t want to write about a divorce

2. does reader have a baby/kid? maybe she’s a new mom with a baby and shitty ex husband. richie comes in and helps her. WAIT what about RICHIE HEARS READERS VOICE AND A BABY CRYING AND SEES READER BASICALLY HAVING A MELTDOWN IN WALMART???!!! pros: great way to introduce them | cons: i’m lazy and don’t want to write dialogue for a baby

3. what the fuck does high maintenance even mean and how would it attract richie?? pros: opposites attract and who doesn’t want to please a pretty girl | cons: i’m lazy and don’t want to come up with reasons

reader is black btw because i’m black and it just makes sense in my mind

i’ll think of more 🤭😁

#the bear #richie jerimovich #x black reader #x black fem reader

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mcondance · 1 year ago

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deets; mcon writing richie from the bear??, no smut but suggestive-ish (?, idk), daddy kink, explicitly Black reader, fem reader, these are the slippers in question, she/her pronouns

thinking about this and richie. this time, it's the newest altar'd state slippers that you swear you need. whining and moaning is how you run to richie, the picture of the brown shoes that you'd been looking at for weeks on weeks pulled up on your phone.

he's in the kitchen working on something that he'd seen you say you liked one day at the bear, a recipe he pulled carmen to the side and asked for out of the prying gaze of the rest of the family. you're there too, previously sitting at the island before the shoes came up on your pinterest again.

he's not too focused yet, though he could never be too focused to give you his attention. he closes the fridge shut and turns towards you, crossing his arms and leaning onto the silver metal as you spill about how much you love the shoes while he nods and listens intently with a small smile on his face, flailing your arms around to the point where he can just barely make out the image.

"and they're so cute and i just know they're so comfy, and it's getting cold so i have so many cute outfits i could make, i could be one of those cute comfy Black girls, richie, like-"

"lemme see 'em." he nods his head towards your phone calmly, and through your whiplash at his smooth and collected expression you hand him your phone.

"are they cute?" you ask, trying to read his air as he stares at the shoes.

"yeah, they're cute." he laughs. you blush, face heating up and a smile growing across your face because his eyes move from the screen to you.

"i want them so bad, they're so so pretty." you whine, looking at the floor before you meet his face again as he shifts off the refrigerator.

he straightens up, standing at his full height above you, and his hand is warm as he cups your cheek.

"you want daddy to buy them for you?" he hums, thumb rubbing soft across your jaw. you respond with a weak nod, entranced by him and that goddamn voice, the one that makes you weak and turns you dumb. he knows exactly what you want, knows that his girl comes to him when she needs something. "i got ya'. order 'em."

you knew he'd buy them for you, because he buys everything for you. but still, it gets you going. richie's a provider, he loves taking care of people, so splurging on your newest need is never a problem for him.

#richie jerimovich smut #it's not rlly smut #but yk #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich x black reader #richie jerimovich x black!reader #x black reader #pocwriters #richie jerimovich

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blckbarbiedoll · 6 months ago

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blckbarbiedoll's masterlist

Million Dollor Baby-Challengers x Black!OC

I Beg You Don't Embarrass Me, Motherfucker-Patrick Zweig x Black!Reader

Ghost Of You-Mikey Berzatto x Black!OC x eventual Richie Jerimovich

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak?-Wade Wilson x Black!Reader

#masterlist #x black fem reader #challengers x reader #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich

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natti-ice · 6 months ago

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TIKTOK LINK

This is so real😭 seeing how people word things in fics really helps me point out who’s American lmao (I’m very American 🦅🦅🦅)

#txt #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #remus lupin x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #x reader #dean winchester x reader #castiel x reader #sam winchester x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #richie jerimovich x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

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blackynsupremacy · 4 months ago

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BEING NEIL FAK’S

GIRLFRIEND

HEADCANONS

pairing: neil fak x blackfem!reader

fandom: the bear (2022—)

i feel like no one really writes for fak and i love him as a character, so why not?

summary: neil fak has a girlfriend, but the guys think he’s bullshitting until she shows up for the opening night of the bear.

contains: lots of words, fluff, richie being richie, cursing, two people who love each other, hating ass motherfuckers, insecurity, fear of rejection.

• it was 2 weeks before the bear’s grand opening.

• neil, carmen, richie, and marcus were all having a smoke break outside in the back just kicking it.

• the guys were talking about various topics until carmy started asking for relationship advice.

• of course richie and marcus are putting in their two cents until they hear….

• “to be honest my girlfriend and i wouldn’t even have to go through that shit. we’d just talk it out and stuff our face afterwards! you and claire bear should do the same.”

• there was a deafening silence from the other men because that came from…fak. neil fak!

• what the guys didn’t know was that neil fak has been in an relationship with you for almost 2 months now. he’s been keeping it under wraps because he knew the guys would shit on him for it, but he had to come clean eventually. you always raved about him to your friends because you’re proud of the adorable, loyal, hilarious neil fak, so why shouldn’t he show the same energy?

• he was still a bit in denial that a woman is actually…attracted to him.

• marcus is like “whoa whoa whoa. hold the fuck up. fak…you got a girl?” he genuinely questioned. now, he was curious!

• carmen was confused as well, but he shrugged it off tbh. as long as fak was happy with someone he genuinely connected with.

• richie doesn’t hesitate to think it’s straight up bullshit. fak can’t talk to a woman without crashing out or making a bumbling fool out of himself. let alone being in a relationship!

• ouch! harsh, richie. fak inwardly cringed because he genuinely thought the same thing. he never really felt like he was good enough for that type of thing, but that sinking feeling disappeared at the thought of you when marcus asked how’d you guys met and got together.

• neil could recount that day a million times if he had to.

• you were living it up in your new apartment until your damn refrigerator broke. you didn’t want to go through the hassle of ordering a whole new one, so before doing that you decided to have someone to fix it.

• the only person you ever make an interaction with is your best friend, sydney adamu. you’ve been hyping her up as she goes through the trials and tribulations of rebranding the former restaurant known as “the original beef” to a new type of place.

• you called her up and explained your dilemma.

• “hey, syd. i got a stupid question.”

• “there are no stupid questions, (n/n).”

• you both chuckle at your inside joke, before informing her about the broken refrigerator and asking if she knew anyone who could fix it without charging an arm and a leg.

• “i might know a guy…he’s a bit of a character, but he’s got a heart of fucking gold and he mainly gets the job done. his name is neil fak, but we just call him fak at the restaurant. i’ll see if i can get him to come by tomorrow to look at it. if not, i’ll beat the shit out of him by denying my best friend’s broken fridge.”

• syd’s dry and chaotic humor never fails to make light of the shittiest situation. you quickly agreed because there’s no way you’re gonna let your food rot.

• the next morning, syd sent you a text that fak has accepted the job. you silently cheered and replied by sending her a time and your address to pass on the message.

• fak had been approached by sydney for a side job in the city. he accepted without any question because he could use the extra cash! he told sydney he could go over to your place asap once he knows the time and place. sydney did just that before he gathered all of the necessary equipment before making his way towards your home.

• he went up the stoop and pressed on the doorbell and waited about 10 seconds before he was beheld a vision. a vision with the most alluring, brown eyes and deep bronze toned skin. your natural hair was in the style you desired to be and it looked amazing! not to mention your inviting smile and melodious voice when you introduced yourself.

• “hey! you must be neil fak, right? i’m f/n l/n, i’m a friend of sydney’s.”

• you held out your hand for him to shake. to say that neil was nervous was an understatement. he stammered a bit before getting himself together, giving you an introduction of himself and shaking your hand. something occurred as you two touched hands. fuck, fuck, fuck! he thought as that touch alone made him feel— warm, tingly, safe? but what had him stressed was that his hands tend to get sweaty as shit when he’s nervous.

• “a-ah, y-yeah! i’m neil fak. just call me fak! um, so, uh, you have a broken fridge. let me say this if my fridge ever broke down like that, i personally think that i would fucking explode.”

• you stood there in silence for a millisecond before you burst out in laughter. fak took the words out of her mouth. you couldn’t deny that it was such a huge inconvenience especially to your love of snacks. “i know that’s right! you’re real for that. sydney has told me some good things about you, neil-er, fak. my bad! but seriously— i believe her when she said you’re a trip, but good people. you’re hilarious! ah, damn, i’m rambling. please come inside.” you stepped back to let him in and lead him to the issue in the kitchen.

• you couldn’t help, but catch a pleasant vibe from the mustached man that was rumbling through the inside and back of your refrigerator. as he was working, you guys just conversed as if you two weren’t strangers. you just clicked instantly!

• to some, fak may have looked like a sleaze with his loud voice, numerous tattoos, interesting fashion choices, short stature, and his bushy stache, but his qualities as a person overshadowed all of those things. deep down he’s caring, sensitive, outgoing, and sometimes he has his moments, but who doesn’t? he also wasn’t making any type of insensitive remarks or jokes (ifykwim).

• once he successfully fixed the fridge, you were so hyped that you gave that man a hug and an enthusiastic handshake thanking him for his help. you asked how much he charged and what payment method worked for him.

• he didn’t want to charge you that much or at all because your constant laughter at his stand up material was filling his heart more than his pocket. he really wanted your number, but he didn’t just want to ask for that without looking stupid, so he suggested apple pay and gave you a discount! smooth move, fak.

•you put your number in his phone, sent him the payment, and let him know that you were saving it because you would like to see him again more often whether it’d be for his services or not, so in a way you urged him to keep yours saved in his phone also.

• fak was crashing out on the inside. did you just say that you want to see him? more often? whether he’s fixing something or not?

•he kept his cool, gathered his equipment, and went on home. from that moment fak felt he found someone and someone found him. not just fixing things or cracking jokes, but for genuine company.

• from that day on, you and fak have been texting each other non-stop. checking in, sending memes, having deep conversations about the most insane topics, and laughing out loud late at night on the phone. sometimes he would come over to play a card game, watch a movie, or just kick it with some good food. you’ve never realized how much in common you and fak share. it was just the chemistry that drawn you too closer.

• ya’ll have been talking for about 3 weeks now and you can’t help but to admit that you care for neil…so much! you two are totally different people and to some, you’re built like you’re out of fak’s league. well, fuck whoever says that! looks doesn’t define who you want to spend your time with. everyone’s got their beauty. you could give 2 fucks if people talked about your connection with neil. you were just wondering if he felt the same.

• you invited him to your place to watch a jim carrey double feature of the mask and ace ventura: pet detective. you and fak have always agreed that jim carrey is a comedic genius.

• as you both sit on your couch and watch the credits roll, fak announces that he’ll leave, so that you can get some rest. you can’t sleep knowing you got these feelings and there’s this opportunity right in front of you. you hold on to his hand before he could take another step out of the door. your eyes not pulling from his. he raises his eyebrows as his pupils glint with expectancy, yet worry. he asks you if everything is okay and you swallow before you make your declaration.

• “fak…i need to ask you something. what do you think of me? do you think of me as just a friend? someone to kick it with? or someone to listen to your jokes, fears, hopes, and insecurities? am i someone that you would be proud of the way i’m proud of you? do you see more than just what’s on the outside?” you squeezed his hand.

• you paused to take a breath before you finish.

• “i don’t care what people say about our connection. i need to know because i can’t fucking take it anymore. neil fak, do you care about me the way i care about you?”

• neil was frozen. he absorbed every single syllable that came out of mouth. he has always had those same exact thoughts whether he’s helping to fix an appliance or you two are out trying a new restaurant that one of you recommended. fak thought he was too much of a chickenshit to even cross that line with you. he wanted so badly to express that you mean everything to him. you’re a fucking goddess to him and he’s just…fak. he can’t help, but get a little envious when richie, nat, and carmen had their respective partners while he was although happy for his friends, he was the 7th wheel.

•he’s calmer. he tries to see things with more of an open mind. hell, because of you he’s got a skincare routine! he feels ♾️ % with you if that makes sense. you don’t try to change him because you don’t need nor want to. you just want neil. that loveable person who doesn’t judge you. not just fak the comedian or the handyman.

• f/n…you’re so, so much more than that and i’m so fucking sorry that i didn’t say any of this sooner because i’ve been feeling like this ever since i’ve fixed that refrigerator. i want you to be happy and i want you to laugh a lot. i’ve never really been into this kind of thing before, so i don’t know what exactly i’ll be able to do for you, but i’ll always be by your side…if-if you want me to—mmph!”

•that was all you needed to hear before you pulled him for a kiss. it took him a moment to melt into it, so you started it off gentle and sweet as you wanted to take this relationship one step at a time, so you and neil would always ride the same wave together.

• after fak finishes retelling his friends how you guys came to be. they started bombarding him with all sorts of questions.

• “is she hot?” “what’s her name again?” “what does she do for a living?” “ have you guys fucked?” “do you have a pic of her?”

• fak was overwhelmed trying to answer each question except that fourth one which earned richie a whack to the head by carmen for asking some personal shit like that. “have some fucking class, will you?”

• fak refused to show any pictures you two share together. it was definitely not because he thought you were unattractive. fuck, no! you’re the most gorgeous woman he’s ever had the pleasure of breathing the same air with. like he thought before, the guys (especially richie) would think he’s got the pictures of the internet or some shit. he had a way better idea than that: he was going to invite you to opening night to watch him work and make these fuckers eat their words. he told them to watch for the girl in the red dress and the name for the table is f/n.

• 2 weeks til open has passed and the bear is now ready to welcome the community with open arms.

•everyone was shitting bricks, but they’ve worked their asses off for this vision and they can’t pussy out now.

• fak had tingles from head to toe.

• you and him usually had casual outings, so it would be the first time you saw him in his brown suit and you in that red dress you ordered from fashion nova for this event. it looked good on the model of the pic you sent, but fak’s round face flushed with red envisioning the clothing on you.

• the doors flipped open and the patrons for the first night of many are greeted by fak or richie then escorted to their tables as their meals are being meticulously prepared.

• richie’s eyes are perusing around the place before they stop on a feminine silhouette and— holy fucking shit. who is she?

• the red satin accentuated her body. highlighting every bump and curve. the dress had spaghetti straps and was low-cut, exposing the shimmering, melanated skin of her arms and chest. her hair was curled and styled to perfection as the amber hue in her pupils are made noticeable by the violet eyeshadow that was applied on the lid as well as her full lips were painted like a red candied apple.

• goddamn, she was like a fucking…real life jessica rabbit, but hotter. if it wasn’t for whoever the lucky bastard is with her, eva would’ve had a new stepmom a-fucking-sap!

• his trance is broken from a female voice. “excuse me, i have a reservation under the name, f/n. my boyfriend works here actually. i think i see him right over there!”

• cue the record scratching. richie may forget alot of things, but he never forgot when fak told him and the guys about this mysterious girlfriend of his named…holy fuck!

• the girl in the red dress. f/n. it’s you! you’re the one who stole neil fak’s heart. richie was feeling like the biggest idiot in the universe as he saw fak catch your glimpse from across the room before excusing himself from a table and power walking in your direction to take you into a loving embrace before you plant your ruby lips on his mustached ones.

• you just couldn’t help yourself! you know he’s at work, but he looks so cute and professional in his brown suit and slicked back low ponytail. he’s also wearing that new cologne you randomly gifted him and now you really don’t want to leave his side. your man, your man, your man.

• neil took it upon himself to escort and seat you at your table. he enthusiastically explains tonight’s menu with such confidence and passion as you peer lovingly at him through your lashes with a palm under your chin. if it were physically possible, you would have literal hearts in your eyes.

• don’t you just love it when your partner is in their element? he was made for this and you were so proud.

• fak excuses himself back to the kitchen to find richie already crashing out to carmy and marcus.

• “guys! it’s fak’s girlfriend. she’s fucking real…and hot as fuck! look out there at table 9, the broad in the red dress. that’s all fucking fak!”

• fak lets out an exclamation for richie to cool that shit down, but deep down he was eating it up as carmy and marcus peered out to see the hype at table 9 and what they saw had them gagged.

• marcus’ jaw dropped and his heart thumped at the sight of you. “oh…”

• carmy’s eyes looked upon you, his eyebrows raised as his cheeks fluttered with red, finishing marcus’ sentence, “shit.”

• he already felt bad considering the fact that he has a girlfriend. (not for long after tonight)

• neil grinned as the guys gave their envious, but sincere congratulations to him before they got too distracted to get back to work.

• neil fak was indeed blessed as he waved at the woman in red at table 9. his abdomen rumbled with butterflies when you waved back and blew a good luck kiss in his direction.

• yes, you were all fak, but fak was all you too.

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jazziejax · 2 years ago

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Also, the switch of attitude when people were shipping Syd and Carmy in the first season and now that the second season is out and everyone’s defending Claire with their life?(rightfully so, I don’t think she deserves all the hate she’s receiving. It’s not a crime to be boring. Like, let women have hobbies 🙄) Now everyone accepts the romance? Where is that energy from the first season? I thought this was a ‘no romance’ type of show?

Also, there’s not a platonic explanation about the way Carmy thinks of Syd. It might not be reciprocated, but he is in love with that girl. And I already know that if they never get together, they’re gonna make Syd a lesbian. There’s nothing wrong with that at all, but that is an obvious cop out and it’s a very old trick. Writers and fandoms do this with all black characters( especially ladies for some reason 🤨) so no one can question or be mad about why this character isn’t with that one.

Some of you guys didn’t care about platonic relationships between men and woman until Syd and Carmy. And I wonder why?

Who’s gonna tell the white people that they’re starting to sound like the homophobes when people ship two males?

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cloveroctobers · 8 months ago

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Here you’ll find all summer works written during the summer season of 2024 down below🍦🏖️ 🌅

BURN > Dante Torres + Tv/Film + Chicago PD (NBC)

BODYGUARD > Vic Hughes + Tv/Film + Station 19 (ABC)

MAKE YOU FEEL > Rio + Tv/Film + Good Girls (NBC/Netflix)

CAMPING > Sydney, Carmy, Richie, Michael, & Luca + Tv/Film + The Bear (FX/Hulu)

NEXT 2 U > _Requested_Layla Keating + Tv/Film + All American (The CW)

DISTANCE > Armando Aretas + Film + Bad Boys: Ride or Die (Columbia Pictures)

SINNERS ON COURT > Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig + Film Crossover + Challengers/The Strangers (Amazon MGM Studios/Warner Bros. Pictures)

95 DEGREES > Armando Aretas + Film + Bad Boys: Ride or die (Columbia Pictures)

SITUATIONS > _Requested_Luca + Tv/Film + The Bear (FX/Hulu)

HAMMER TO THE HEART > Dante Torres + Tv/Film + Chicago PD (NBC)

COMEDY > Sydney Adamu + Tv/Film + The Bear (FX/Hulu)

TV ON > Richie Jerimovich + Tv/Film + The Bear (FX/Hulu)

GRANDMA’s > Armando Aretas + Film + Bad Boys: Ride or die (Columbia Pictures)

FALSE STARTS > Carmy Berzatto + Tv/Film + The Bear (FX/Hulu)

LOVE FOR A MINUTE > Armando Aretas + Film + Bad Boys: Ride or Die (Columbia Pictures)

TIGER EYE > JR + Tv/Film + All American: Homecoming (The CW)

NEIGHBORS > Armando Aretas, Rio, Luca, & Mikey Berzatto + Tv/Film + Bad boys for life, Good Girls, & The Bear

-> A SUMMER EP 🌪️

RODEO > Javi Rivera + Film + Twisters [2024] (Universal Pictures/Warner Bros. Pictures/Amblin Entertainment)

FIRST DAY > Armando Aretas + Film + Bad Boys: Ride or Die (Columbia Pictures)

BEST EXIT > Dani + Film + Twisters [2024] (Universal Pictures/Warner Bros. Pictures/Amblin Entertainment)

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kdogreads · 7 months ago

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Love Story

Richie Jerimovich x f!reader fun flirty blurb where your friends are visiting you in Chicago 🤪🫶

Just fluffy funsies here but still 18+ as always bc why not. Love yous all💕

———————

The restaurant is mostly void of customers as the busy Saturday dinner service winds down. You look up from your glass as the last sweet drops of whatever wine Richie picked for you tonight dance onto your tongue. That sweet smile you love so much comes into view.

You are wrapping up an evening out with some close friends visiting Chicago. As perfectly timed as always, Richie approaches your party.

“Ladies,” Richie practically sings as he nears the table occupied by you and two of your closest friends, “It’s been my sincere pleasure serving you tonight, and watching you get my lady wine drunk.”

Giggles erupt as your (also slightly wine drunk) friends make heart eyes at you and Richie.

“Richie!” You screeched in mock-anger, “I am not that drunk, thank you very much. Even if I were… That’s on our host for over-serving meeee.”

More giggles dance from your table as your friends enjoy the show you and Richie are putting on.

“You’re right, sweetheart,” He winks your way, loving this game you play, “My apologies to our distinguished guests.”

Wine-fueled cackling erupts as you and your friends eat up every minute Richie spends with you. He really does make you swoon even when he isn’t trying to.

“One last thing before I turn you lovely ladies loose on the town,” The lilt in his voice has you all exchanging looks of excitement, “Dinner is on us tonight. Thank you for being here tonight and showing my girl such a good time.”

Richie’s hands cross over his chest, his gratitude on full display for the world to see. A series of happy sounds and light cheers fill your ears but all you can focus on is how damn blue Richie’s eyes are. How sincere his expression is.

You and your friends clink your wine glasses in a celebration and shrill “cheers!”

None other than the Neil Fak passes behind Richie and slips him a note during your toast. He glances down at it, smirks slightly, and flips it so you can see:

A scrawled out “last guests :)” in black ink. They are professionals to the minute.

Richie’s demeanor changes immediately. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his crisp white dress shirt. The way his strong shoulders relax slightly let you know that now he can be just be Richie, not maître d’ Richie.

Servers begin cleaning up around you but Richie shows no sense of urgency to leave. He pulls up a chair next to you and takes a sip of your wine, silently nodding to himself at his excellent choice. You shake your head at him teasingly but lean in to kiss his plush lips anyway.

Someone turns up the chill house music and your group settles into comfortable, lively conversation. Carmy and Syd come out to say hi while Fak brings yet another bottle of wine out for you to enjoy. It’s only then that it hits you: Richie is turning the restaurant into a private little nightclub for you and your girls to enjoy. Swoon.

“You look real pretty, baby,” He whispers in your ear and leaves a tender kiss on your temple, “Beautiful.”

Heat rises in your chest as you smile over at him, “So do you, Richie.”

You slide a finger over his exposed neck and find yourself practically drooling at the warm, smooth skin you find.

Richie sees the fire in your eyes and smirks back at you, one eyebrow cocked. He wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you close, his warm body sending goosebumps dancing across your skin.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers deeply in your ear. You pout jokingly for a beat before nodding your head slightly with a giggle. You know he’ll be worth the wait.

You begin to settle into his embrace when you realize the beginning to Love Story (Taylor’s Version, of course) is playing from the hidden speakers. Richie literally gasps in excitement, jolting you slightly before pulling you onto your feet.

��Hell yeah! We love T Swizzle! Right, baby?” The way he lets the joy radiate off of him sends butterflies to your stomach. It’s infectious you think as your closest friends join you in dancing along to this classic love song.

God, you love this man.

You feel the wine and the excitement and the love as you float around the room with Richie. By now, most everyone from the kitchen has joined your group. All you can see around you is a collection of your favorite people having so much fun and living in this very moment.

Your eyes feel watery as Richie tilts your head towards his and smiles warmly. The look of love his face filling your heart up to the very brim.

He gives you small, inquisitive look — silently checking in and making sure you’re okay. You nod and lift your lips in a smile to let him know that you’re perfect. This is perfect.

Richie twirls you around gently as your friends belt out the chorus: Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone.

You swear someone replaced Romeo with Richie and you’re 95% it was the goofy man himself.

“Thank you for this, Romeo,” You whisper to your man, adoration oozing from your lips. You’re lost in his kind eyes as he leans in for a quick kiss.

“Anything for you, my Juliet.”

———

The night slips away slowly, sweetly.

You spend hours just dancing, talking, enjoying the company around you, snacking on whatever Carmy or Sydney or Marcus want you to try next. All around you are your favorite people just having fun and being together.

While The Bear won’t be debuting its new nightclub hours anytime soon, this one-night-only event sneaks its way into your core memories. It’s fun, and comfortable, and happy.

You realize at some point, lost in the music and the emotions just how lucky you are to get to do all of this with Richie.

It hits you suddenly and wholly that you are so, so in love with Richie Jerimovich.

It’s a love story, baby just say ‘yes.’

Tagging some friends just for fun! 🫶 @foreveraimingtowardsthesky @ankhmutes @thebearer @potato-with-hair

#richie girls #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich x you #Richie jerimovich fluff #richie jerimovich x f!reader #kdogreads #the bear #the bear fox #love story #taylor swift #Spotify

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donatellawritings · 11 months ago

Text

cherry - around your neck - r. jerimovich

pairing(s): richie jerimovich x f!reader

warning(s): language, age-gap, explicit sexual content

song: the party & the after party by the weeknd

24 hours. Twenty-four hours remained until you’d stand face-to-face with the older blue-eyed man who’d come to plague your every thought, in recent times. Twenty-four hours, so close, yet so dauntingly far. Seated directly before the mirror your worn chipped-paint coated vanity, you drank yourself in. Dressed in the thin, black mesh fabric of your nightgown, you carefully examined yourself for any outstanding flaws. The concealer that once sat comfortably under your eyes now faded and live-in, courtesy of the mentally and physically taxing classes you’d endured hours prior.

Your eyes were a bit smudged from your generous application of mascara, you’d decided your staple eyeliner wasn’t needed today. Your faded and worn brown and mauve lips adding a much needed flush to your lips as you forced a closed-mouthed smile at your reflection. Your deep-red painted acrylic nails combed through your hair, adding a smidge of volume as you tilted your head, posing in the mirror, once more. Were you desirable enough? You’d just hoped that Richie would think so.

I mean, fuck, clearly you were desirable enough if he’d asked to expect a video-call from him, so close to your first official meeting date. The palm of your right hand carefully pressed against the knuckles of your left, popping the knuckles and granting you the slightest bit of relief from your anxiety-ridden nerves. Why did he want to see you? Did he want to put an end to your tryst, before it even got a chance to begin? What did Richie Jerimovich want from you that he needed to see you at this very moment?

Opening your sticker-covered laptop, you waited. Watching the reflection of yourself, through your webcam, you adjusted the hem of your nightgown to sit comfortably against your breasts, pushing them up just a bit.

Now biting into the your acrylic-reinforced thumb nail, your foot tapped against the cold carpet of your bedroom floor. Scraping your teeth against your nail, you stared at the screen of your laptop, hopelessly.

The chime of Richie’ video call request shocked you, your posture straightening as you rushed to accept the call, exhaling a breath with a smile as the call connected, revealing sight of Richie, his eyes blown and bloodshot.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Truth be told, Richie couldn’t find it himself to wait any longer. The past three days had been eating him alive, the impatience and anticipation that came with seeing you, touching you, becoming all too powerful against his already shaky sense of willpower. You were intoxicating, a way more addicting and raw being that was stronger than any of the substances he’d previously conducted dealings with. He could only come up with so many scenarios of you, in his mind to get himself off in the dark and tense hours of the night. So, he gave into temptation, gave into himself.

Richie could tell that you were nervous, shit, he shared the same sentiment, if not more. Asking to see you a day earlier than planned, out of the blue, he could only imagine the worst things that you could say to him. yet, the sight of your skin clashing against the confines of the thin mesh fabric, your breasts perked up just right, made it that much harder for Richie’s patience to take hold. He didn’t care where you two would go, or what time it was, he needed you, and sooner rather than later.

“Thank you, Richie,” you smiled softly, licking over the leftover mauve that stained your lips.

The two of you sat in silence for a beat. The sight of your chest rising and falling with a shaky breath becoming too much for Richie - he was too far gone.

“Richie is everything oka-”

“I need to you see now, I just, I can’t fuckin’ wait until tomorrow,” Richie blurted out, running his hand over his grown out bear, shaking his head with a smile.

You remained silent, biting down into the swell of your bottom lip with a short and breathy laugh.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re just makin’ it real fuckin’ hard for me, looking like that,” he continued, slightly adjusting the tie that laid around his neck, the glint of his gold chain peeking through from underneath his white button-up shirt.

Richie’s nerves began to run rampant as he aimlessly rambled, “I get it if you want to wait, you deserve to have the fanciest dinner of your fuckin’ life, but I need to see you, baby, so fuckin’ bad-”

“I don’t want to wait, either.” You spoke faintly, leaning your face to sit in the palm of your head.

Fuck. Richie was so fucked.

A subtle ache that hummed between your legs made its way through you. Knowing that Richie held the same virtue of desire eased your initial anxiousness, the two of you were teetering on a dangerously thin line and you both knew it.

Richie swallowed thickly, “Give me twenty minutes,” he spoke, his raspy voice now holding a heavier tone, “twenty minutes and I’m all yours.”

You shifted in your seat, tightly crossing your left leg over the other with an obedient nod, “all yours,” you repeated.

Richie abruptly ended the call, leaving you a nervous wreck as you sat in silence, the sound of the mild rain that hit your window, failing to calm your buzzing veins that struck you with adrenaline.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, debating on whether or not you should touch up your makeup, the farthest part of your subconscious telling you that you may not need to. Something about Richie’s demeanor excited you, he was domineering, yet this time he seemed feverish, almost needy?

You could barely speak yourself, lord knows how much you craved Richie, to the point where the thought of finally having him was nearly enough to bring you to your knees.

Throwing your head back, you let out a sigh, a smile laced with excitement and shock pulling at your lips as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were only minutes away from finally indulging in the baby blue-eyed older man. A laugh escaped your throat as you ran your fingers through your hair, before pulling your head up straight.

Standing up from the vanity, you quickly scanned your bedroom or any sign of mess. Why are you so nervous, it’s not like this is your first time being a with a guy, let alone having one at your apartment, but a 45 year old man who you met online - that was a first for you.

You made your way to the living room, turning your television on to a random channel, before heading to your kitchen cabinet, where you sifted through, until you’d found two wine glasses - did Richie even like wine? Setting the two glasses on your kitchen counter, you snatched your refrigerator door open, reaching for the cheap bottle of Moscato that you’d gotten for yourself for special occasions, like this very night.

Slamming the refrigerator door shut, you hastily reached inside of your freezing, grabbing the ice tray and cracking it, allowing a few cubes to all into each wine glass, before sliding the half-used ice tray back into the freezer. Placing the wine bottle next to beside the two ice-filled wine glasses, you took a breath.

The abrupt shrill of your ringtone broke you from your brief moment of stillness. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Coming!” You shouted, to no one in particular, your heart racing as you rushed to your bedroom.

Snatching your phone from your bed, you accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear, “sorry, I was just fixing up some stuff,” you answered, swallowing the lump of nerves that had formed in your throat.

The sound of a car door closing could be heard on the other end of the phone, “S’okay, I’m downstairs - shit, uh, what apartment are you stayin’ at?” Richie questioned.

It took everything in you not to take a peek at him from your bedroom window, “Oh, yeah, I’m in 4E.”

“Alright, give me two minutes, sweetheart,” Richie cooed.

“Bye, Richie,” you ended the call, scanning over your appearance in the mirror of your vanity, “fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

Richie stood in the dimmed elevator, his leg bouncing as the elevator beeped with each passing floor. He was so close to you, he could taste it at the tip of his tongue. He kept his hands inside of the pockets of his leather jacket, exhaling sharply as the elevator door opened, allowing him to enter the Fourth Floor hallway.

“Fuckin’ aye,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he approached the door with ‘4E’ imprinted in gold.

Sliding his right hand out of his jacket pocket, Richie brought his knuckles to the heavy door, knocking rhythmically against it. Richie silently cursed himself out as he waited at the door, his head hung low. The sound of you unlocking the door caused Richie to straighten and broaden his shoulders.

Richie’s eyes fell on yours the moment you opened the door. That fucking dress - god, Richie couldn’t even think straight as the two of you stood in silence. His eyes drank you in, he couldn't help but want to study everything about you - you were much shorter than him, so much so, that he wanted nothing more than to have you against the wall with your legs wrapped around him. He could tell that you’d just spruced up your hair with those sleek red nails, he wondered what they’d feel like digging into his back and shoulder blades. He wanted nothing more than your lips on his, seeing the way you’d lick over them, leaving him a needy and greedy mess.

Man, you were such a fuckin’ tease. Of course, you’d decided to keep that nightgown on, Richie tried to remain a man of manners and respect, keeping his eyes trained on yours, instead of on your hand that smoothed itself against the curve of your hip.

”Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?”

You were completely entranced by the man who stood before you. He was tall, oh so tall, and you loved the way his oversized leather jacket clashed against his unbuttoned dress shirt and slacks. You allowed his bright baby blues to selfishly drink you in for a beat, before stepping aside, “come in,” you spoke softly.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a quick second as you shut your front door, taking a small breath before turning to face Richie, whose eyes scanned your apartment.

“You got a nice place here, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, thank you,” you forced out a laugh as Richie’s eyes landed on yours, before motioning towards the kitchen, “would you like some wine?”

Richie shrugged off his jacket, neatly placing it on the arm of the couch as he licked at the corner of his mouth, with a nod, “Thank you, beautiful - y��need me to open it or?”

“If you don’t mind,” you accepted, your stomach turning in excitement as Richie approached you, sliding his warm hand across the side of your waist as he made his way into the kitchen.

Richie grabbed ahold on the wine bottle, gripping it by its neck as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, “Y’like white wine?” He questioned, pretending to be engrossed in the cheap bottle.

“Red gives me headaches,” you spoke.

“Depends on the type you get.” Richie quipped, not missing how your hand gripped the edge of the counter.

Richie was slowly drifting off into the deep end - the tension-thick air becoming too much as he stood before you, huffing out a breath as he reached over you to open the refrigerator, sliding the bottle inside, before pushing the door closed.

Now face-to-face with you, Richie keeps his eyes directly on yours, “Tell me, where’s your head at, sweetheart,” he questioned, the tips of your noses ghosting against each other as you shrugged.

“Can-can I touch you?” You asked, your voice coming out as a whisper as you lifted your head, inching your lips closer to his.

“I’m yours, I already told you that, baby.”

And Richie meant every single word.

You nodded, “then can you touch me?”

Richie nodded, bringing his hands to your waist, smoothing his hands against your skin, before lifting you onto the counter, allowing his hands to cup your face, “tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, I fuckin’ swear I’ll stop, baby,” he spoke, his raspy voice needy and hoarse as his eyes search yours for any signs of displeasure.

With that, Richie’s warm lips were on yours, the kiss warm, wet, and hungry as you both moaned into it. Richie’s scent of musky cologne and faint cigarette smoke sent you into a daze, a whimper sneaking past your lips as Richie’s tongue slid against yours. The rough hair of Richie’s beard deliciously scratched at your lips as he adjusted himself, deepening the kiss even further, pushing you farther back onto the counter, any further and Richie would be climbing onto the counter himself.

A gasp left the two of you’s lips as you both caught your breath before you hooked your leg around Richie’s slim waist, pulling him in closer with a throaty moan. Richie’s calloused hand slightly tightened around your throat as he groaned into your mouth, the sensation of your nails accidentally scratching at the side of his neck becoming all too good to him.

Without breaking the kiss, Richie hiked your other leg around his waist, swiftly wrapping his free arm around you as he pulled you into his chest, carrying you over to your dining table.

Richie pulls away from you, feeling a faint pang in his chest as you pouted, “I know, baby, just lay back for me, I need to fuckin’ taste you,” he pleaded, pulling you in for one more quick kiss, before you laid back against the cold glass surface of the table.

A short gasp left your lips as your back arched, the frigid glass singing your skin through the thin mesh of your nightgown, “fuck,” you muttered.

Richie’s hands were quick to lift the hem of your nightgown, allowing the mesh to bunch up at your waist as he tapped your legs, silently beckoning you to spread them as you complied.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ pretty,” He smiled, pulling you closer to the edge of the table, before lowering his head between your thighs and pressing a wet kiss to your panty-covered pussy.

Richie presses another kiss to you, before sliding your underwear down your legs and allowing them to fall to the floor, a groan leaving his lips as he raised one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh with open-mouthed kisses before making his way back down to your aching pussy.

Pressing his tongue flat against your wetness, Richie took a long and greedy lick up your folds, repeating this a couple more times, before sticking his warm and taut tongue inside of you.

“Fuck, Richie,” you breathed out, trying to grab at the completely smooth glass surface of the table as he stuck his tongue inside of you once, more, pushing himself deeper with a moan.

Richie had you right where he wanted you. And fuck, eating you out his new favorite hobby.

Richie was disgustingly greedy with you, the mixture of your slick wetness and his saliva coating his beard as he slurped away at your pulsing clit, your hoarse moans like music to his ears as he continued to lap away at you, the hand that held your leg over his shoulder now moving towards your core.

“Keep going, please, don’t st-”

Your whines fade into a gasp as Richie slides his index finger into you, the squelch of his finger enclosed in your walls sending you into a frenzy as Richie pulls his glistening face away from between your legs. Your mouth is hung open as Richie begins to thrust his finger at an agonizingly slow pace.

Taking in the wet sound of your pussy taking in his finger, Richie leans over you, his free hand now gripping your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, “M’gonna put another one in baby, just keep - fuck, just keep those pretty fuckin’ eyes on me, okay?” Richie speaks, his voice deliciously low as you nod feverishly, your nails scratching at the table.

“I-It feels so good, Richie, fuck,” you cried, your hoarse voice struggling against Richie’s grip on your throat.

Nevertheless, you did what you were told. You kept your eyes on Richie’s as he pulled his finger out of you, quickly re-entering you with both his index fingers as he pushed them all the way inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, you’re doing so fuckin’ good, baby,” Richie moaned, watching closely as you fought to keep your eyes on his.

Richie’s fingers quickened their pace inside of you, the lewd sounds of how wet you were, coupled with the ferocity of his skilled fingers leaving Richie wanting nothing more than to make you cum.

“Richie, I-I’m gon-”

“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” Richie cooed, maintaining the quick and hard pace of his fingers as he sloppily kissed you, keeping his forehead against yours as your eyelids became dangerously heavy.

“I’m so fucking close - so fucking close,” you moaned, your vision growing hazy as Richie hummed.

“You’re so fuckin’ close, I can feel it, baby.”

Richie’s hand moved from around your throat, to cradle the back of your head, forcing your to keep your focus on him as he curved his fingers inside of you, hitting that deliciously sweet spot, over and over again, until you let out a throaty cry. Richie quickly kissed you, his finger working you through your orgasm as you cried into his mouth.

Richie slowed his fingers to a gradual stop, allowing you to ride out your orgasm against his hand as you came down from your high. Your breaths were choppy and uneven as you tried to regain your composure.

Your pupils were blown, eyes wild as Richie took in your post-orgasmic appearance, so he decided he'd test the waters, bringing his/lips to your ear, “open,” he commanded, a burst of pride sweeping inside of his chest as he watched you close your swollen lips around his fingers.

You sucked softly, your strained eyes never leaving Richie’s as you gently pulled his now dry fingers out of your compliant mouth.

Richie couldn't wait to fully have his way with you, hell, in this moment even he knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. You did so good for him.

The two of you sat in silence, after Richie carried you to your bedroom, Richie standing between your legs, leaning over you as you pecked his lips, “You can stay the night, if you want,” you offered sweetly.

Richie was all yours and he understood that, one-hundred percent. How could he say no to those eyes, those same eyes that soaked his in as you came to a climax, how could he say no to you?

“Y’want me to stay?” He prodded.

You smiled, kissing the pendant of his gold chain that hung in front of you, “I want you to stay.”

Richie groaned, gently grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “alright, then you got me, baby,” he agreed, pressing his lips to your forehead, softly cradling the back of your head.

You weren’t sure what this would mean for your relationship, moving forward. Hell, Richie wasn’t even sure what this meant, but he knew that he wanted you, every part of you, he’d just hoped that you wanted all of him too.

i hope you all enjoyed part three - now things are going to finally get fun <3

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear #richie jerimovich fanfic #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich smut #the bear fic #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto

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