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cloveroctobers · 8 months

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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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xblackreader · 4 months

Text

About ClaireCarmy (Opinion)

Carmy’s family (Richie, Steve, Mikey, Fak) anyone who was trying to set Carmy and Claire up,

never had good intentions for Claire or for Carmy.

They had an image of what a good man who makes it out looks like in their heads:

He gets the girl, he’s got the job, he takes care of his family.

They wanted Carmy to be their ticket out of dysfunction and generational problems. They wanted to live vicariously through him and Claire was just a “pretty cookie cutter wife” that fit that white picket fence image.

Carmy was a guy like them who had a chance to make it out and prove they could too.

Most of this show is Mikey and Richie living vicariously through Carmy and Carmy allowing them to because he feels like he owes to it them not to live a life he wants.

He doesn’t want the white picket fence (at least not now or like this) he just knows that people have told him that’s what he should want with Claire.

He lives in spite of people.

“Fuck you, watch this.” And he’s still unhappy.

#the bear #the bear tv #just my opinion #my take #black women #x black reader #sydcarmy #syd x carmy #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto #mikey berzatto #Claire nolastname #fak is complicit asf too

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suekeyyyy · 1 year

Text

-Perverts of Derry-

✩ IT (2017) ᙭ Oᑕ'Տ✩

𝘉𝘢𝘥 ՏᑌᗰᗰᗩᖇY: Five "sɪsᴛᴇʀs" ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴇʀʀʏ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴇɴ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀᴛs 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦,𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦,𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺,𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏᴡɴ.

ᗯᗩᖇᑎIᑎᘜՏ: sᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴀᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴅs, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀssᴀᴜʟᴛ, ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ʙᴀᴅ ʟᴏɢɪᴄ, ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ, ʀᴀᴘᴇ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴄʟᴏᴡɴs, ғɪʀᴇ.

Ｃｏｍｍｉｎｇｓｏｏｎ...

#italia #x black reader #x black fem reader #x reader #IT #richie tozier #richie x eddie #richie x reader #eddie kaspbrak #patrick hockstetter #patrick hocksetter x reader #henry bowers #henry x reader #it x reader #the losers club #bowers gang #it x black reader

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soulc-hilde · 3 months

Text

Welcome to the Wild

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x OFC! Caden

Synopsis: No longer about her future, Caden spirals as the rug is once again pulled from underneath her feet. Living her days in a silent shell, she forces herself into her work. Noted as the restaurant's Mute Pâtissier, the stuttering eyes of her boss always finds themselves attached to her. Studying her. Like some animal in the wild.

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

“Honey, how are those buns comin’, love?” Mickey’s deep voice calls over the chaos of the kitchen.

In the far corner, blocked off from the madness was his sole baker, prepared for war and unbothered with the onslaught of orders. She pulls out the third baking tray of rolls and places them inside the rack before turning to coat a tray of recently cooled ones with honey butter. The perfect, golden rolls absorb the butter. Droplets run down its sides slowly, the bread appearing like a professional photograph.

“First three trays are finished,” she calls back, not a pause in her pace noticeable.

The Berzatto nods, a grin taking over his chiseled features as he watches her work. “Atta’ girl,” he compliments, hustling on with the service. Afterwards as the staff gathered for Family, everyone talking and laughing, Caden looks over at the man who seemed to bring ease into her life.

“Why that name?” She asks, quietly. He looks over at her, stumped at the question.

“What name you talkin’ about, Honey?” He retorts, eyebrows scrunched. She nods his way, “that one. Honey. Where’d you even get that from?”

This time he looks down at his plate, fork shuffling the food around. “Because you’re a good kid, ya know?” He tilts his head up, looking at her.

“You try to push people away, scare ‘em off, but you really just want a family. You want someone to love your sweet soul just as much as you’d love them.”

Caden scoffs, playfully, shaking her head. “The day that someone can look me in my eyes and say ‘I love you’ and mean that shit, pigs’ll start flyin’.”

She swallows a fork full of collard greens and a bit of turkey tail in the mix, eyebrows scrunching happily. Mickey looks at her, his shy gaze steeled as he stares through her. The once mute kid Tina brought to his office like a lost kitten has become the rambunctious, scatterbrained little sister he never asked for but appreciated.

He chuckles, “just be happy it’s ‘Honey’ and not ‘Squirrel.’ kiddo.”

She sends a playful glare, chubby cheeks stuffed with food. “Hey, my ADHD ain’t a joke,” she tries to scold yet her words come out jumbled and slurred.

He smiles, leaning forward, ear facing her, “what was that? I couldn’t hear you over those stuffed cheeks, Squirrel.”

“Go to Hell,” she mumbles, going back to her food, ignorant of his eyes watching her with a soft gaze.

---

No one really goes into details about the hero of the story dying and how their loved ones, their supporters, deal with it. For Caden, Michael's death wasn't that big of a shocker. No one lives forever unless you're the Devil's favorite. Mickey was the most stereotypical older brother anyone could ever meet.

The stand-in father. Believes everyone is better off without him. The one who puts up with his abusive mother's shit, not because he's an enabler but the little boy who watched it all go to shit just can't let go.

God, she missed him. Despite having her own older brothers, Caden was doomed from the start, as if neglect and trauma was all she was destined for. No friends, a negligent mother, an ill father, and avoidant brothers.

But, Michael was her brother, though.

When Tina brought her to The Beef, all the poor girl had was a backpack of clothes, her grandfather's saving, and desperation. Michael took her in, watched her bake and turn the pastries she once drew into a reality like some magician.

If only she knew how much she reminded him of Carmen.

"Those two'll bitch each other out, but they'd be one hell of a front." He'd think with that smile he'd carry as if everything was gonna be okay.

Maybe she shouldn't have answered her phone that night. She should've declined his offer, make up some lame excuse like homework.

No. Even if that was the last memory of him she had, she'd much prefer that they were together rather than apart.

---

"Cousin," Richie's microphone for a voice rings off the kitchen walls. "You may already know some of these guys, seeing as they've been here longer than me. Tina, Ebra, Angel, Manny, and finally, the soul of the team, Honey."

Caden side eyes the men, lazily looking at them for a moment before sending a nod toward the short, curly haired one. Just as quick as she turned, she resumes back to her station, sorting her spices and chocolates. Behind, Richie simply waves her off, blowing a rasberry.

"Don't mind her. The name's sweet, but, uh, she's kind of dark." He warns the younger man. Ebra leans over, "her name's Caden. If you're a smart boy, you'd call her that."

Richie scoffs, "c'mon, this is Carmy, we're talkin' about. Mikey's little brother? It works out, perfectly, the Bears and their honey."

Walking past, Caden smacks her hand against the back of head, beelining for the walk-in. The man winces, rubbing the heated spot with a grimace, glaring at her back.

Inside the walk-in, she glares at the bananas, aggressively picking them off the shared stem. Why the fuck would he say some shit like that? Makin' it sound like some damn affair happened between her and Mike.

She'll fucking kill him if he keeps going. Marching back to her corner, her blank eyes fall onto the man, or Carmy's, blue eyes. He was obviously watching, waiting for her to walk out.

He walks over as she begins chopping a peeled banana into perfectly symmetrical slices. "I'm, uh, Carmen," he practically whispers, fingers pinching at his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry... uh, about, about Richie. He's an asshole, doesn't know when he's gone too far," he continues.

She nods, lost amongst the rhythm she subconsciously follows with every cut. "Have you, uh, have you ever went to culinary school?"

Her hand comes to a stop, her attention now focusing on him. Rather than snap, she curls her plump lips inward and bites down before shaking her head.

He nods, shrugging, "i, I was just wonderin', ya know? With the way you, uh, take, take care of your station, it's, uh. It's experienced."

"OCD," she whispers.

Her eyes return to the cutting board, hands frozen in place to memorize the exact width she had cut. Finishing the first one, she grabs the second, mimicking the actions of the first time, not a step different or seconds behind.

Laying the bare fruit beside the chopped pieces of its twin, she places her hands in a starting position. Left hand gripping the fruit, index and thumb pressed gently against her cutting mark that matched exactly to the ones beside it.

Carmen watches, fascinated, as the embodiment of silence works in an ongoing loop of repetition, shutting him out from her world. Her fucked up world of madness.

"You enjoyin' the show or some'?" A voice questions him, snapping the man from his thoughts.

Turning to face the intruder, his eyebrows raise with panic as Tina glares up at him. The corner of her top lip is pinned up, teeth bared as if she was prepared to mame him.

"Uh, no, not. It's not, it's not like that," he rushes to his defense. Her eyebrows raise, expression shifting to one of aghast. "Oh, so, you don't think she's beautiful? Talented? What, you too good for this place?"

He jaw jolts, brain short-circuiting as the older woman rapidly fires assumptions his way. He knew coming through the restaurant as a nobody was a risk. He may have been Michael's baby brother, the star in his eyes, but they only knew Carmen by his words. To them, Carmen was a fantasy character. The kid that stood in front of them was just a stranger, the stranger who was also their new boss.

"Tia," the woman calls, finished slicing the bananas. She turns to glare at the two. "Do you mind? I've got a system going on, right now. Take the playground shit somewhere else, yeah?"

Unlike the staff built up of Chicago natives and ethnic backgrounds - Latino and Italian being the majority, she didn't yell. Regardless of how far she stood from anyone, she never even raised her voice in a way to project her words. She just talked, casually, and if you heard her than you heard her.

If you didn't? Well, tough shit cause she won't repeat herself.

Her voice was mellow and naturally rested at a low octave. Her accent nowhere near the Chicago accent, it was more of a general midwest/southern accent. Her words relied heavily on the southern part of her dialect. It was as if she was a puzzle that just kept scrambling, creating greater confusion than understanding.

"Yeah, system, mija," Tina nods, a condescending smile taking over. "Don't fuck," she points at Carmen, finger just inches from his face. "with the system. Cocotazo."

She walks off, leaving the younger chefs to themselves.

---

In the beginning, he believed that Tina was fucking with him. "The system" was a fucking mess. It was about as sloppy and greasy as the restaurant itself. As the thoroughly trained professional he is, Carmen decided that things were to take a change for the better. The first being to go?

Every fucking red flag that dressed the staff like some high-end jacket. And God, did they fucking complain. Turn into children with their stomps, glares, and petty insults aimed at him no matter what he did.

Just simply asking for the chefs to keep up with proper hygiene outside of the typical washing hands with soap for 20 seconds resulted in a 'fuck you' and 'don't fuck with the system.'

Well, fuck me for not wantin' to deal with sick customers, he scoffed at the thought. A breath-filled chuckle releases beside him. Quickly, he looks over to meet eyes with Caden. She leant her right shoulder against the doorway of the office, face seemingly blank but her eyes hummed with warmth.

"I wouldn't wanna deal with these bitches on a regular, much less because they got sick from us," she states, referencing to the statement that rang through his mind.

He straightens, "oh, oh? Di-Did I say that out loud?" She nods, "yeah, you did." She steps further into the office, closing the door behind her. "But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. Well, actually, it has some connection."

"Okay, uh, here," he stands, leaning over to push out another small metal foldable chair. "Take a, uh, seat. Take a seat." She nods, settling down beside him. "So, what did you wanna talk about?"

Please, don't say you're quitting. Please, don't say you're quitting, his conscience pleas.

"Staff," she starts off. "I love those assholes, but even when Mikey was here and runnin' the show, it was fuckin' chaos. They think they're functioning well because Mikey never corrected them, but we both know they're not."

His eyebrows raise with surprise. "Oh?" he whispers, sitting back in the wheeled chair, fingers pulling at his lips.

"Mh," she nods. "And don't even get me started on the bakery. Before Mikey died, we were workin' togetha' on how to make the bakery faster. Which meant better equipment and shit," she snorts.

"We don't have the money, though. Which leads me to the next suggestion," she leans forward. "We're gonna have to start hirin' some help."

Taglist: @spiderstyles04 @lostinwonderland314

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x oc #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x oc #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto x black! Reader #the bear #the bear fanfic #Jeremy allen white #Jeremy allen white fanfic #carmen berzatto x reader #soulc.hilde series #Sydney adamu #richie jerimovich

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tryingtograspctrl · 17 days

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ALWAYS: MICHEAL “MIKEY” BERZATTO X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER

SUMMARY: You hold each other down, that’s how it’s always been and that’s how it always will be.

Flashback

You sucked in a shaky breath, running your hands over your blouse to ensure that there were no wrinkles before opening the door.

The atmosphere of the restaurant instantly overwhelmed you, the cashiers up front yelling out orders, the register going ding every five seconds, the people shuffling in and out, some bumping into you without so much of an excuse me or sorry.

You stood by the door for a moment trying to calm your nerves.

“You gonna stand there all day sweetheart or are you gonna order something?” A voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You didn’t notice the line cleared out, you were the only one left. How long had you been standing there?

“I’m uh, i’m here for an interview.” You looked at the man behind the register.

“Really?” He stared at you in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You nodded rapidly.

“Shit, one second. ” He headed toward the back.

He quickly came back, another man behind him.

“You’re y/n?” His eyes trailed your frame, an unreadable expression.

“Yeah.” You fidgeted under his gaze.

“Follow me.” He started walking toward the back.

He led you into a small dining room, taking a seat at one of the tables gesturing for you to sit across from him.

“Listen you look like a nice woman, way too nice for this place and i just wanna give you a heads before we go any further.” He started.

“I gotta be honest this place is shit, everything’s broken all the fucking time, we’re always running out of something, there’s constant chaos, people yelling, losing their fucking minds, the pay is shit and benefits are non existent so don’t even ask.” He spoke bluntly, studying you.

You took a deep breath, taking in everything he just said.

“It was nice meeting you.” He half smiled standing up.

“Wait… i didn’t say i didn’t want the job.” You looked up at him.

He paused, eyes widening.

“Can you cook?” He sat back down.

“Been cooking my whole life.” You nodded.

“Good, good, that’s great.” He sighed in relief.

“Why here?” He looked into your eyes, searching for something.

“Not a lot of options and i gotta keep food on the table somehow, keep the lights on.” You mumbled biting your lip.

He smiled gently.

“When can you start?”

Present

“We’re out of bread… how the fuck are we out of bread?” You grumbled scribbling away on your notepad.

“Mikey.” You called out to him.

You paused waiting for a response and when you didn’t get one you exited the kitchen, looking around for the dark haired man.

“Mikey?” You spotted him sitting at one of the tables, staring into space.

You walked over to him, eyes shooting down to his hands that were shaking rapidly.

“Mikey?” You spoke gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

“Sorry what were you saying?” He looked up at you.

“How about we go outside, get some fresh air, yeah?” You brushed the hair out of his face. It had gotten longer over the years.

He nodded following you out the door.

“You ever think that this is stupid?” He questioned leaning against the brick wall, puffing a cigarette.

“All the fucking time.” You laughed dryly, rubbing your hands together to generate heat.

“Yeah, should’ve got rid of this place a long time ago.” He huffed.

“Hey, that’s not what i meant.” You furrowed your brows.

“This place is fucking awful, it’s a dump, it sucks the life out of you and sometimes i fantasize about leaving the oven on after a shift so it can burn to the ground.” You smiled as he chuckled, happy you could get a laugh out of him.

“But it’s home… you built something special here, helped a lot of people, formed a family. I don’t regret coming to that interview that day, i don’t regret staying either, sticking it out despite all the bullshit.” You continue, watching the busy street.

He turned towards you, eyes tracing the side of your face.

“You know, i never tell you enough how grateful i am to have you.” He spoke up after a moment.

You look at him, face warming at the compliment.

“You’re my fucking rock sweets.” He locked eyes with you.

“And you’re mine.” You smiled.

“When you feel yourself sinking i’m always gonna be there to pull your ass up and i know you’d do the same for me.” You spoke tenderly.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone, i got you and so does the rest of your team.” You grabbed his hand.

He lifted it to his mouth, planting gentle kisses on your knuckles.

He gazed at you affectionately, eyes soft.

“What?” You grinned nervously as he continued to stare.

He pulled you against him, your plush body colliding with his toned one.

He grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

Your eyes widened slightly but once the initial shock wore off you kissed back, sighing deeply, savoring the way his lips felt against yours, the way his stubble tickled your cheeks.

You both pulled away after a short while, foreheads resting against each other’s, small pants coming out of your mouths.

“Mikey.” You breathed out.

“I fucking love you.” He pecked your lips, closing his eyes.

“I love you too.”

A/N - This is inspired by the napkins episode, Mikey is super duper sweet and very charming ahhhh. 🌻

#the bear #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #the beef #restaurant #plus size reader #black plus size reader #mikey berzatto x plus size reader #mikey berzatto x black plus size reader #plus size!reader #plus sized reader #plus sized #the bear fanfiction #italian beef

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cyber333angel · 4 hours

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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 2024

cyber’s note : my first ever kinktober!!! im soo excited to participate and i hope you guys like it <3

01/9 — cockwarming w/ logan howlett

03/9 — spitting w/ rafe cameron

05/9 — shower sex w/ ellie williams

07/9 — dacryphillia w/ rafe cameron

09/9 — dry humping w/ logan howlett

11/9 — fauxcest w/ jj maybank

13/9 — abo dynamics w/ logan howlett

15/9 — “just the tip” w/ rafe cameron

17/9 — hybrid!reader x pet play w/ logan howlett

19/9 — breeding kink w/ richie jermiovich

21/9 — overstimulation w/ ellie williams

23/9 — watersports w/ logan howlett

25/9 — orgasm denial w/ logan howlett

27/9 — brat-taming w/ richie jermiovich

29/9 — virgin!reader collab w/skyoangels

31/9 — mirror sex & choking w/ logan howlett

possible add-ons: sex pollen, thigh riding, somnophilia, spitting, degradation, daddykink, period sex, witch!reader, beauty and the beast au —with various characters <33

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l0rds-in-black · 10 months

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Would anyone be interested in reader insert content for npmd? Whether it be one shots, or a full fic with a reader insert??

Asking cause I want to write stuff but idk if anyone will want to read it.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #the lords in black #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #grace chasity #max jagerman #nighthawks #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchet town #Hatchetfield high #x reader #reader insert #nerdy prudes must die x reader #nerdy prudes must die reader insert

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natti-ice · 3 months

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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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mcondance · 10 months

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“hold it open, lemme see.” richie slurs, words spacey and breathy and oh so disgusting. with a shaking hand you reach down between the two of you, spreading your lips so he can clearly see how he stretches you open. in turn, he slows down, makes a show for the both of you. humming in admiration and appreciation he watches, feasts his hungry eyes on the visual of his thick cock disappearing inside you, on the little bump that appears every time he rocks into you. in and out he pushes with eyes locked with yours, shallow thrusts that become longer and longer and deeper and deeper until his hips are hitting the backs of your thighs again. his blues linger on your expression, your eyes teary and mouth open and slack before your eyes flit down to where he rocks into your cunt.

“richie, fuck.”

he hums, wallowing in the air of your desperate whines. every cast of his hips forward pulls a whine out of you, blending with his disgusting words. “look a’that, ‘s like you’re made to take me.” he nods when you nod in agreement with him. he’s almost purring, your eyes shut tight and body tense and fluid all at the same time. “you are made to take me, aren’t you? fuckin’ made for it.” he pushes all the way in, his last words swirling into a growl. close to your face he moves and lingers, lips ghosting against yours, pressing your thighs even further to your chest, and he speaks once more. “you’re fuckin’ made for this.”

#richie plewse please please please please #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x black reader #richie smut #richie x reader #ermmmm wtf

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sageispunk · 4 months

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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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cloveroctobers · 1 year

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Carmy Berzatto — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: heavily influenced by this TikTok [user: addamsfilms] that put out the idea of bringing Rory culkin onto the show as Carmy’s blood cousin so here it is. Always liked rory so I thought why not? Also watched the show with Rory’s character they mashed up with Carmy’s “the expecting” and it was definitely weird af but I’m not really taking it in that direction lol. Definitely ended up completely different than I originally started! Some light hearted moments from a light hearted OC/Reader with a touch of heaviness because it’s still the bear after all.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @quinzelgifs + @pranink & @thepunkpanther

PROMPT from this list here: Making popsicles.

WARNINGS: kinda lengthy if you have the time, platonic carmy relationship? You tell me. Language ofc + things get physical somewhere towards the bottom, let us pray for Carmy 👀

✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

there’s this dull feeling that sits in the center of her chest but after a couple of breaths and the longer she stares at the boarded building, it goes away for now. The air is misty, the sky grey with a faint of yellow behind it; in the shape of the sun begging to be released. She’s not sure how long she’s been rotating her view of staring at the becoming of the bear and the sky but after awhile her body moves her inside.

Inside provides better warmth from Chicago’s spring that she’s peeling off her trench coat. She smells plaster, paint, and dust first before she studies the new layout that’s in mind for the restaurant. It feels much more open than the last time she set foot in here and although it’s only been a few weeks, she still feels like she might have missed out on a lot.

It’s loud inside the bear, drilling, the talking—yelling—it’s the same thing around here and knocking filling her ears as her brown eyes drift back to the only greenery inside. Her eyes go wide as she slowly steps forward to the potted Strelitzia, birds of paradise—if you prefer simpler terms, leaves beginning to droop and tan, later also finding no other than a used cigarette in its dry soil.

She lets out a scream, gaining the attention of Manny and Angel first who are quickly alerted with her presence, wearing their protective head gear before footsteps follow.

“Hey, there she is!” Richie yells as she stands up straight from her leaned over position, “welcome back to the hell hole, starstar!”

She blinks and places a small genuine smile on her face, “It looks great so far but tell me why there’s a cigarette just chilling in my plant?”

Richie glances at the said item and raises his hands in surrender, “wasn’t me this time! Take it up with thing 1 and 2.”

She dips her head, tongue pressing to the roof of her mouth until Richie brings her into a embrace, lightly shaking her from side to side. She swallows the smidge of annoyance for now, a simple hand going around to place on the 6’1 man’s back for a moment.

“Good to see ya!” Richie clicks his tongue just as more faces appear from the kitchen.

First it’s sweeps followed by Tina and Tyler who halts at the door.

“Starla! Sup girl! How’s that stomach treating you?” Sweeps holds out a fist for the girl to bump who snorts as her knuckles touches his.

She knows the man is lightly teasing her, as he analyzes the wall before taking a comfortable lean against it. Starla picks up on this and makes a mental note to ask about it later but she’s still a little annoyed that her baby is slowly failing.

“Yes, mama. How are you?” Tina wraps her arms around Starla, tenderly rubbing her back before moving to stand beside her, arm still wrapped around her waist.

“Eh…a lot better.”

Sweeps comments with a chuckle as he munches on some chips, “We told you not to eat that shit.”

“You did. I just didn’t want to be rude you know?” Was Starla’s reply as Sweeps shook his head.

“And where that get you huh?”

Richie sneezed and sniffed, “Yeah, starstar! You’ve got to kick that people pleasing habit out the way!”

This the young woman already knew, even when Tina nodded her head and continued squeezing her to her side. It was two weeks ago when she decided to try out this new “gourmet” food truck probably six blocks over and ordered some curry goat. She sent pics to the group chat and you already know that shit was fired up—except for the lack of response she received from Carmy.

Not that it mattered anyways, Starla still ate the meal in front of the owners because she was simply starving and on lunch break. Food poisoning was not fun or a good feeling but for the sake of not embarrassing the cooks on the truck…Starla ate the meal. It originally wasn’t horrible at the start, it also wasn’t the best flavor wise but it was ultimately the after that utterly destroyed Starla’s insides.

Which ended up with a nice trip to the hospital and a ugly bill in the mail a week later. Yes she was a woman down for a little while, which sucked for the bear since they needed all the help they can get. It was crazy to not only Starla but to be aware that the goal was to be open in May was mind-boggling. There was so much to do on the list and with Starla being around part-time, she helped out when she could.

Now she was back and she still didn’t know what she was stepping into.

“Hey Star,” Tyler takes his opening as he smiles at her from across the room.

Star smiles back, “Hey, Ty.”

“Glad you’re feeling okay.”

“Thanks, me too.”

Tina hums up at Starla who shushes the older curly haired woman as Tyler moves where the main counter used to be.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice in here,” Sugar greets as she leads the way with Carmy and Sydney not far behind, “how are you? Doing okay? Missed you.”

Starla lightly laughs as the blonde ambushes her with questions and hugs, “I’ve missed you too, Nat.”

“Jesus, let the girl breathe, will you?” Richie calls out while Sugar turns a icy glare to the man with the sledgehammer.

“How’s billy?” Sydney asks afterwards, “…you know the goat?”

“Wow, that joke was awful. Hi, Syd.” Starla says with her usual smile full of laughter lines as the girls share a high-five in greeting.

Starla adds, “I’m definitely vegan now and I’m also wondering why no one’s been looking after my plant.”

Of course Starla knew this was a big request to ask of anybody here and she asked numerous of times if it was okay to leave here. She was met with lots of reassurance from the Berzatto siblings and Sydney that it was fine, just to be met with her dear Cecil fighting for his life here.

“Oh fuck.” Sugar hisses as she peers over at her brother who holds a hand up from his crossed arm position, “I knew we were forgetting to do something.”

Starla pouted as she shifts her jacket from one arm to the other, “It was my mistake for thinking that this currently boarded up place had enough light for my baby.”

“It does—

Carmy starts…

“It will!” Sugar and Sydney say at the same time as Carmy starts speaking a word to Starla.

Tyler raises a finger, “I wish I would have known that was your plant, I would have taken it back to mine and my mom, who’s in town, could have looked after it. She’s good with things like that.”

“Oh no, you’ve done more than enough,” Starla fans her hand at the bandana wearing man, “Thank you though.”

Tyler dips his head with a smile again and Carmy picks up on this. It was no secret that Tyler’s been the most hands on when it came to Starla falling ill. Starla was not expecting this and appreciated the rest who did reach out to her considering they were all under intense pressure. A simple text was fine every now and then just to check in but Tyler felt the need to show up with remedies of self-care packages with the time he did make for her.

It was also no secret that Tyler had his eyes on Starla. How he would get caught just staring at her adoringly from across the room, completely checked out from any conversation he may be having with anyone else. He reached out to Carmy after hearing from Uncle Jimmy about the “shit ton” of help he was going to need in rebuilding the family business.

Carmy was reluctant on bringing Tyler in but he knew he needed more cooks and sure Tyler was only used to preparing diner meals (since that’s all he worked in back in Massachusetts and what he was familiar and comfortable with) but breakfast was Tyler’s specialty, he was eager to learn the ropes, and he had his own special craft.

Who was Carmy to deny that?

Carmy and Tyler weren’t the closest growing up, with Tyler only being a year older but it’s not like they saw each other a lot back then either. If Carmy told you that his mother, Donna Berzatto was a lot…then you can only imagine her younger sister, Lydia, who happened to be Tyler’s mother.

Donna was three years older than Aunt Lydia and once upon a time they were proven to be very close growing up from the bits and pieces Carmy remembers. Apparently Lydia was a, “Prissy man stealing whore and if she had the chance she would have stolen your father if he wasn’t in love with me instead!”

Whatever transpired between his mother and Tyler’s had nothing to do with Carmy’s relationship with his cousin. They just never saw each other, Tyler was heavily into science as a kid, with aliens being at the top of the list, and easily socializing with others whereas Carmy had a stutter that made him shy, studying denim along with ways to style jeans snd preferred world travel books. They emailed a couple of times as kids until Tyler started going to camp and Carmy rather stick to seeing what Michael was up to.

“Look uh, Star. I’m sorry about the plant—

“Cecil.”

Carmy blinked, “what?”

“His name, it’s Cecil.”

Carmy looked around at all the other faces in the room with him right now, resulting in wide eyes from Sugar, a shrug of shoulders from Syd, a stern look from Tina, amusement on Tyler’s face and Sweeps just continued eating unfazed.

“Show some fucken respect, Carmy. StarStar said the things name is Cecil. Cecil the plant! so address it as such!” Richie yelled out to the stressed man.

Starla thought she saw Carmy’s eye twitch and she was expecting that to become an argument between the two men—like usual—but Carmy simply just ran his hands over his face in distress. Exhaling he stepped forward to rest his hands on Starla’s shoulders.

“Want to catch up in the kitchen for a sec, Star?” Carmy asked, peering at the woman.

Starla answers, “sure.”

And with that they exit the deconstructed room to head into the kitchen together but not without a set of wondering eyes. Starla follows Carmy into the office where he awaits for her to take a seat while she’s stops, staring at the hole in the wall.

She pointed while Carmy exhales, “just another thing to add to the list.”

“Okay…so fill me in.”

“Have a seat first.”

“Oh god.”

“No, it’s not anything like that.”

Starla takes a seat, eyes going over some paint swatches for the new office and tilted her head at the sight, trying to fully picture it.

“First and foremost, how are you holding up?”

Starla wiggled in her seat, fixing her imaginary bow around her neck, “Oh! Just dandy, Mr. Berzatto. I sure do appreciate your sentiments.”

Carmy snorts, reaching forward to lightly shove her knees away playfully, “okay, wise ass. No but seriously, you’re doing okay?”

“Always! Of course,” Starla beams with a fan of her hand, “When am I not?”

Carmy presses his elbows into his knees, “uh two weeks ago when you were puking and shitting your brains out?”

“I don’t need the throwback visuals. I lived it already, thanks.” Starla crossed one leg over the other.

Carmy clears his throat, “uh right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Uh huh…are you okay, Chef?”

Carmy shifts his eyes back from the tunnel that wants to set in, a flash of white almost appearing above Starla’s head as he focuses in on the question that’s asked of him.

“Hm?”

“Is something bothering you? Want to talk about it?”

“Oh no,” Carmy frowns with a brief close of his eyes, “I didn’t bring you back here to talk about me. I wanted to check in with you because I know I haven’t been as attentive as I could have been when you were down and I want to apologize for that.”

Starla shrugs, “all I care about is Cecil. His growth should be much bigger and that was a bit of a let down.”

Carmy begins bouncing his leg, “And I don’t ever want you to feel that way because of me, especially when it was my responsibility to at least look out for the damn plant.”

“Talk to it, water it, give it sunlight, and breathe it in.” Starla listed.

“…that salt you’re throwing…stings you know?”

Starla let’s out a small laugh, “well there was a cigarette just lingering in his soil. How is he supposed to grow if there’s nothing but toxins being placed on his roots?”

Carmy couldn’t say much to that since he couldn’t recall if he was the culprit who may or may not have thrown the stick in there on his way out. He also felt like Starla was giving him some philosophy lesson since she tended to do that without notice sometimes. And whenever he pointed it out, she’d just whisper her grandfather’s name who was a retired philosophy professor down at Columbia College Chicago.

“Heard,” carmy remembers to breathe, “I fucked up.”

“Kinda but that’s okay. I won’t hold it against you,” Starla placed her hand on top of Carmy’s, who briefly stares down at their hands together, “We all do sometimes and I’ll get Cecil back together.”

“I have no doubts about that,” Carmy answers, “you’re the one with the green thumb.”

“And apparently Tyler’s mom is too.”

Carmy sits back at that, suddenly quiet which makes a frown attempt to make it’s way on Starla’s round face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That thing you just did with your face.”

“I just look like this, what do you want me to do?” Carmy was confused and Starla can’t help but to snort out a laugh.

Starla gets to her feet, brown coat held in her hands, “okay car…”

“Are we good?” Carmy stares up at her.

Starla pauses, pretending to think about it, “Duh! I don’t know if you know this Carmy but i consider you family and you’re stuck with me.”

Carmy felt a crooked smile itching to break onto the corner of his lips but he just shakes his head at the brunette. He’s not sure how to feel about that or if he should feel a way about that but at least it’s something.

At least she’s not pissed at him.

The thing about Starla is you’re never sure when she’s upset. She’s usually the happy go lucky one in the restaurant, the soft spoken one. Carmy quickly learned why Michael liked having her around. She brought a sense of peace during the chaos. Starla was as interesting as it comes since she had the culinary experience but didn’t feel the obsession with it.

Cooking became a hobby and once it became a profession she learned it wasn’t something she was in love with like other chefs. She wasn’t ready to devote her entire life into the craft and respectfully she stepped away from it. Until she came across Chicagoland, ready to order until she heard Michael Berzatto yelling about the lack of ingredients. She stepped in with a suggestion and from there, Michael wanted her in the shop for her quick thinking but gentle nature.

It wasn’t a done deal by any means, she proved herself in the kitchen with her out of the box thinking. Yes she went to school for a year, almost two, which she learned a lot spending time in the Netherlands but that didn’t feel like her purpose. It just felt like a experience that she was grateful for and could share with others from time to time but she enjoyed the roots of culinary arts in different spaces.

Which means most of her time was spent working at farmer’s markets and tending to farms (yes in Chicago!) and community gardens. That’s where her heart lay but she had to be honest and say a piece of it would always be here too.

“Good, Good.” Carmy states as he’s now on his feet, resting his arm across Starla’s shoulder, beginning to lead her out of the office while his phone buzzes.

Starla sighs, “you know what would make this tense energy better?”

“What’s that?” Carmy searches his pocket for his phone, peeking at it but continued holding it in his hand.

She rests her head against his shoulder in deep thought, “Making popsicles.”

“Marcus is still in Copenhagen.”

“Please. I’m well aware, that’s my other bestie. Location on at all times.” Starla stares at Carmy as if he’s just offended her.

Carmy scratches at his brow, thankful that his phone stopped buzzing, “that’s a thing?”

“Heck yeah it is! You can’t just send my bestie away to another country and not expect me to not keep consensual tabs on him! And I would do the same thing for each and everyone of you if they decide to leave for awhile.”

Carmy stops walking as he looks at Starla, “and what if you decide to leave?”

“Then…I guess that means I’d truly wouldn’t want to be found. Which would take a lot for me to do, I’m sure.” Starla faces the wild-haired man who pinched at his bottom lip in thought.

Carmy recently had this dream—or nightmare of Starla calling it quits. He summed it up as Starla breaking free—and that’s on high school musical! There were haunting cellos, the setting was iridescent but gritty and Carmy couldn’t see Starla’s face. He just knew they were sitting face to face on a white solid floor that turned into milk and he kept wanting to reach out to her but couldn’t. He felt his mouth moving but couldn’t hear anything but the cellos.

carmy didn’t know what that would mean if that became reality.

“Popsicles in the middle of April? I don’t know about that, we’re still trying to get the repairs done because we really can’t fail another inspection.” Carmy informs Starla who grips his shoulders.

“Listen, we can all use a beach day.”

“I’m not going to beach.” Carmy’s nose scrunched in distaste.

Starla pokes at his chest, “Okay fine! We don’t have to physically go there but I’ll bring the beach to you.”

“How is that going to work?”

“You have all this extra space now.” She taps her temple.

“There’s mold in the back room, holes in the walls, Syd and I are still working on the menu, walls that still need to be painted, inspections that need to be approved, new furniture that’s been placed in storage—

“And we will get to all of that. I’m sure all of the progress that you’ve made still counts for something and I can’t wait for you to realize that.” Starla told Carmy as she squeezed his shoulders, “and I’m gonna make you a appointment with my mom so she can get those boulders out of your shoulders but first…popsicles!”

Just like a flash of a camera, Starla whirls by him, pushing the kitchen doors open as she claps her hands getting the attention of everyone, “friends! May I have your attention, please?!”

“Guys! Star’s talking!” Tyler calls out to the rest, eyes solely set on her.

Starla winks at the round blue-gray eyed man across the room in thanks before clearing her throat, “Carmy and I are proposing the idea of a summer’s day.”

“Which means what? I don’t follow.” Tina asks, figuring that maybe a new culinary term she may have missed out on.

“I’m gonna go striking?!” Richie raises his fist in the air with a wide grin full of teeth.

Sydney immediately shields her face, “Oh please no.”

“Hearing that is making me nauseous again.” Sugar covers her mouth.

“You better not, don’t nobody want to see that.” Tina points at the taller man who just kisses his lips at the Latina.

“What?! I’ve got a great body,” Richie defends, “Just ask Freya!”

Fak pokes his head out from around the corner, “I believe you buddy! I’ve accidentally walked in on them once—

“Whoa! Hey! Shut the fuck up, please.” Carmy scowls, not wanting his old time friend to finish that sentence.

“Love you man, thanks for having my back! Unlike some people.” Richie slaps Fak on his back while glaring at Carmy who sneers at him in response.

Starla puts her hand on Carmy’s shoulder while sending a look to Richie who stands back on the balls of his feet, slowly putting his F U motion down from his chin once he realized Starla’s brown eyes were on his.

“As I was saying…we’re bringing summer to the bear a little early! Which means—

She lightly bumps Carmy’s shoulder to finish, “which means uh, making popsicles.”

“Making popsicles?” Sweeps asks, “I’m down.”

“And what else?” Carmy whispers to Starla.

Starla tells, “and we’re gonna have a beach day basically.”

“How are we gonna do that? Are we actually going to beach?” Tina questions.

Carmy quickly tossed in, “No. we don’t really have the time.”

“But we have time to make popsicles?” Sydney holds her arms out in bafflement.

It’s Carmy’s turn to stare at his partner considering her very valid concerns, “Look I know this is unexpected coming from me. However I’m taking my conversation with Star into consideration and will allow this break as a uh—as a learning experience for us all. I’m not the best at desserts and treats so this’ll give us the chance to bond and get inspired by your inputs by contributing this to the menu.”

“Wow, Carmy. That was beautiful.” Fak cradles his wrench to his chest while Carmy just shrugs, briefly glancing at Starla who smiles at him.

Sugar lifts her shoulder, “whatever, I can use a beach day.”

“You just pulled that out of your ass but I’m fucken tired of looking at these walls so why not?” Richie tossed the sledgehammer over his shoulder, making Angel quickly side-step out of the way.

Carmy ignores Richie again, “Angel, Manny. You guys can head on home and we’ll save you some of the popsicles for you to try tomorrow. Thanks for your work today.”

“You got it boss.”

“Good luck!” Angel chucks up the deuces as he leads the way through the kitchen.

Tina raises her hand, making Carmy point at her, “Jeffery, you said you’re not much of dessert guy so who’s gonna lead us on this?”

“Is it gonna be you, Star?” Sydney asks.

It’s Tyler’s turn to raise his hand, “Um, I can show everyone.”

Carmy blows out a breath, “I was hoping you say that.”

Everyone found themselves gathered in the kitchen, the heart of the bear as Tyler awkwardly held everyone’s attention. Breakfast maybe his specialty but slushies counted as breakfast just as much as smoothies. And popsicles were in the same category right? Tyler knows what he was doing, he swears! Starla stood right beside him, resting a hand full of comfort on his arm which made him stand up a little taller.

“Walk us through the steps, Chef.” Carmy tells his cousin, swaying from one foot to the other as Tyler swallows his nerves but nods his head.

Tyler clasps his hands together, “Okay so popsicles. It’s a lot easier than some might think and I believe we have all the tools we need…depending on what type of popsicles we’re interested in making.”

“I’m sure whatever you choose will be tasty.” Sugar encourages as she leans against one of the tables.

Tyler smiles a bit at his family member, “okay so what you would do is select the fruits you want as your main flavors. I know we have some fruits we can spare, perhaps the raspberries and pineapples?”

“Whatever you need, Chef.” Carmy replies.

Tyler continues, “Thank you Chef. We’re going to chop those fruits up and set half of them to the side but depending on the consistency you want, keep to the side or you can blend the other half or the entire fruit if that makes sense. From there you want to pick your liquid, I personally think rice milk is fire and also your safe bet if you’re serving to a party of people for the first time.”

“Rice milk? That’s a choice.” Sydney hums as she takes this in.

“Yes, Chef. I think it has the best consistency out of all the milks but I’m sure you and Carmy will figure out the best options if this becomes a keeper.”

Sydney glimpses at Carmy who holds her stare before they both turn back to Tyler. Starla also takes notice of this but figured that their thing and has nothing to do with her so she gives Tyler her time.

He goes on about selecting a sweetener of choice, he likes agave nectar, and possibly a hint of something cool, which is optional, like mint whether fresh or with syrup along with a splash of lime. Tina, Sydney, and Richie are on chopping duty while Tyler, Starla, and sweeps tend to the liquids.

Carmy is supervising it all, watching syrup come together as one in a pot before they have to get combined with the fruit. Tyler asks carmy for a few important tools, curious if that was something the restaurant owned for this snack since it’s not what he used back home at the diner. They don’t have the right machine to freeze the popsicles in minutes, which is okay Starla notifies, saying that they can actually venture off to the beach day as she disappears for a good twenty minutes while the rest carry on.

Starla spins around Carmy, seeming brighter as Tyler is using a stainless steel confectionary funnel to pour the soup like popsicle into the molds that sat on the counter. He then encourages everyone to do the same with the set of molds before bringing them to the freezer.

“That shit looks good as fuck, how long do they have to sit for?” Tina asks with a lick of her lips.

Tyler is wiping his hands on a rag, “I’d say at least six hours.”

“Six hours?! It’s already three o’clock.”

Tyler pursed his lips but appears apologetic, “If we had those huge instant freezers then we wouldn’t have to wait as long but time flies fast.”

“I’m leaving at six by the latest, make sure you guys save me one.” Sugar orders with a smile.

“What’s next?”

Fak exhales, “Man, That was shortest break ever.”

“It’s not over yet,” Starla places her hands on the counter, “please head to the beach oasis where the lockers once were.”

Murmurs fill the kitchen area as everyone heads in the direction mentioned. There sat a few beach chairs, towels, decorative sand, a umbrella, a projector that showed the ocean, along with the nagging sound of seagulls, and finally LED studio lights that mimics the hot sun during a summer’s day.

“Whaaaat!” Fills the room as everyone stared around the space in awe.

Starla calls out, “Welcome to a beach day at the bear, friends!”

“There’s actually a cooler here full of beer, hard lemonade and sandwiches. I’m sold and I love you, kid!” Richie yells, ready to yank his arms out of his shirt but not without yanking Starla’s cheeks to place a kiss on her forehead before stalking back to the sand.

Starla watches in peace as everyone makes themselves comfortable from sitting down or lounging in the faux sand.

“You really went all out,” Carmy says from beside Starla, “how long have you had this planned?”

“It’s been on my mind for awhile actually but it really came into effect after I learned about all these inspections,” Starla confesses, “Go on, look at the water, listen to the waves and the seagulls. Really enjoy it and be one with nature.”

Enjoyment? What’s that?

Carmy scratches at his hair, “…I’ll try as long as you officially promise you’re gonna be with us on opening night?”

“Do you really want another chopped on your hands?” Starla inquires.

Carmy looks up at the ceiling thinking about it. He’s heard about Starla’s unaired episode on chopped and how that was the third straw on her not wanting to seriously cook anymore. He figured it was traumatic enough especially since there’s footage that’s not been seen. He felt for Starla truly but he wasn’t afraid to push because he felt she needed to be on his team. If Michael saw it in her then, Carmy definitely saw it too.

“You’re better than that.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“Nothings perfect and I accept that.”

“Well I don’t.”

“Carmy, Starla’s said before that she doesn’t know if she’ll be with us in the kitchen on opening night and we should just respect that. Im sure she’ll still be here to support regardless if she has on a apron or not.” Tyler cuts in, making them both realize that he had been right beside them this entire time.

Carmy turns his stare to Tyler then, “I didn’t really ask for your input on this, Tyler. I’m the one that gets the say on building this team.”

Tyler sighs, “I’m just saying if you’re trying to keep your team then maybe you shouldn’t just only see your point of view. That’s all.”

Carmy’s tone is clipped now, “I’m sorry, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Starla’s been saying that she doesn’t feel enjoyment in cooking anymore. It just a hobby but Michael wanted her here and you’re kinda forcing her to still be here, although it’s part time. Don’t you get that it sounds like guilt tripping?”

“Are you serious?” Carmy glared at Tyler now, “do you honestly think I have to force anyone to be here? Like I’m not building this to actually be worth something? Worth something that people want to work here, put their soul into? Anybody can fuck off, including you.”

“Hey, Car.” Starla steps forward pushing his finger down as she looks back at Tyler who’s brows are raised, “Ty. Let’s calm down.”

“Honestly…screw that.” Is Tyler’s retort, “Just because he owns this place doesn’t mean he gets to shit on everybody else that may see and think differently from him. He doesn’t really appreciate you, Star. Not enough to let you go.”

“What’re you saying, you asshole?”

“I think you know what I’m saying, you’re just choosing not to hear it or deal with it.” Tyler is calm but his voice holds weight to it.

The sound goes right out of Carmy’s ears as Starla and Tyler share words. He didn’t know why Tyler thought he can come in here, after Carmy allowed him to be here and try to talk shit to him? Tyler didn’t know anything. He was just as new to this place as Carmy once was and he didn’t understand why Tyler felt the need to come at him right now? He’s been as patient as he can with Tyler, picking up on his weaknesses easily in the kitchen but kept them to himself.

He was family after all.

They didn’t get the chance to talk much when it came to Tyler’s personal connection to the kitchen or anything really but here he was speaking on Starla. Like Carmy was a crap person for wanting to see Starla reach her potential. He couldn’t fathom that Tyler was trying to tell him about her. Carmy’s been around Starla much longer than Tyler was and he didn’t miss how he was all puppy dog eyes whenever she was around.

He couldn’t blame him but he also couldn’t stand it.

Carmy usually wasn’t the impulsive one and tended to disassociate from all situations that ended up being too much. He was used to people belittling him and talking at him instead of with him. So he may have been triggered and didn’t realize that he pulled Starla out of the way to get to Tyler.

Until the sound entered his ears again.

“Carmy!”

It was sugar’s voice that brought him back into the scene. He was held up against the wall by Richie, with Sugar trying to get his attention but his eyes continued to search around. Tyler was getting up from the ground, holding his throat while Tina and Sweeps checked on his well-being.

On the floor sat Starla, holding her side, steel table slightly pushed to the side as her eyes swam with tears and Sydney stayed crouched in front of her. Both women turned their gaze to Carmy who was fighting to remember to breathe.

What did he do?

“You tried to rough him up, cousin.” Richie declared as Carmy’s glaciers fought to settle on Richie.

Sugar grips her brother’s face, feeling a bit of déjà vu, “ I love you, Carmen. Please…just calm down for me.”

And as he looked at his sister, he somewhat was.

“You good?” Richie asked, arm still pressed against Carmy’s chest but it was almost like he felt nothing.

Not until he noticed the swinging of the doors, signaling that Tyler was now out of the kitchen and Starla shakily beginning to collect her things.

“Star,” Carmy croaked out, “I’m—

“No!” Starla hissed before slamming her hand on the counter as Carmy almost moved to step towards her, “NO! You don’t get to act like that and expect me to be fine, it’s not right Carmy. This isn’t. I’m tired too and I don’t know how much more you think I can give.”

Carmy feels his stomach turning, like a washing machine off track—much like his own mind, “Don’t leave.”

A watery smile appears on her facial features then and she struggles to suck in some air, making a dull ache appear in Carmy’s chest at the sound.

He was the reason, he didn’t do enough.

“That’s the problem friend,” she gets out before she walks off with her things, taking the light right with her.

Carmy wants to be left alone, hours after that. He silences Claire, Sydney is at a lost for words and that’s another feeling he can’t describe as she leaves with his sister, Tina gives him a squeeze and a look to Richie who just nods his head, before she also leaves with Sweeps accompanying her as the night falls.

Richie knows that this moment was a huge one because he’s had plenty. Carmy needed help and if what he had with Starla is truly broken, he was going to need all the support he can get. Everyone in the bear has never had that on the outside and that’s one of the reasons why everyone’s connection is so strong on the inside. Perhaps that’s what brought them all together.

He doesn’t want to stare at the younger man for long, knowing that carmy would turn his anger on him so he leaves him in the kitchen and takes a seat on a bucket at the front of the restaurant, his desired spot.

That doesn’t stop richie from yelling that he’s here for carmy if he needs him.

He hopes one day he will as he lights up a cigarette and browses Facebook, seeing a picture of Tiffany with Frank on that jackoff’s page.

Richie should block him but can’t bring himself to.

Carmy is back in the freezer, door pinned back with a box full of beef stock as the light inside flickers above his head while he checks on the popsicles. He doesn’t have the energy to find a wooden stick, so he brings the mold back into the kitchen and pushes the frozen treat from the mold.

The popsicle slides against the steel table, leaving a light trail of its liquid behind. With shaky hands, Carmy scoops up the biting cold popsicle and let’s it sit against his skin for a minute before shoving it into his mouth.

It’s the right amount of sweetness and barley tart, as it melts against his tongue while he buries his head into his forearms that rests on the counter.

Blocking out the view of the kitchen and everything in between.

“Let’s go out.”

Starla doesn’t feel like it’s appropriate given the situation but the look in Tyler’s eyes at the front door of her apartment, she doesn’t argue much on it, tossing the ice pack into the nearby sink.

Sure she has words for Tyler too, like sticking his pointed nose in her own battles when it came to her friendship with Carmy but for tonight, she needs something else.

It’s raining hard as Starla sits on the passenger side of Tyler’s beat up pick up truck and he lets up off the gas as they locate a bar. He keeps close, attempting to shield Starla from the rain with his Jean jacket but it’s like she’s on autopilot, walking at ease; almost ahead of him as bits of rain falls over her, trying to knock her down.

Starla and Tyler both share that they aren’t much drinkers (Carmy too) so they limit themselves to two to three shots before Starla’s on the dance floor. Tyler doesn’t want to be a creep but he can’t help but to keep his eyes on the woman who gets lost on the dance floor, dancing the night away and keeping her distance away from anyone that tries to share this personal time with her.

How unlike her.

“She your girlfriend?” A brown skinned woman suddenly to his left asks with bangs.

Tyler stumbles, “ah, no. Just a friend.”

“Her lost.”

“No, it’s mine.” He sternly says to the woman who nods as she rests her hand on his chest in understanding.

Starla moved to the pulsating beat, tequila running fire through her blood with each twist of her body until she feels nothing. And when she opens her eyes to the shimmer diamond lighting along with the numerous of dancing bodies surrounding her…

She should feel alone like she commonly does in a room full of people but the gleam that outlines the frame of her being, tells her otherwise and the standstill in her movements gets her going to the beat again, head held back and arms raised high up to the ceiling with a smile splitting onto her lips.

Fear will no longer be welcomed here.

✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ✧ ˚✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Continue along with my summer anthology series here.

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