#luca the bear

[yannaryartside]

I want to talk about Marcus's mom

and the time of her death

So, there is this beautiful yet heartbreaking detail about the timing in which Marcus lost his mom.

Marcus mentions to Luca that his mother has already exceeded the estimated life expectancy for her illness.

Right before Marcus travels to Copenhagen, he tells his mom how excited he is about this opportunity to learn (one of his idols in Carmen's cookbook worked (or is) in Copenhagen); he is also looking forward to proving himself in creating original desserts. We know this is the first job he has felt passionate about, and we have followed his journey into curiosity, improving his skills and making this "his thing."

In the momment he leaves the room, we see his mom opening her eyes, and she looks into the darkness, as she is thiking, observing...

This moment made me so sad because it seemed like Marcus was just seconds away from a proper goodbye before the trip. But then I thought that she likely heard him; she heard her son explain all these new things in his life that he is excited about. She knows he has found his passion and purpose, and that passion is allowing him to grow and know other countries and expand his horizons...man. That is all a parent ever dreams for their child, along with happiness.

Let me emphasize this, we see her wake, taking this information in. And the last thing we know about her is that she died on the opening day. Marcus receives the message while hanging the sign Luca sent him after reading his note and smiling joyfully. She died the day his son had all the pieces in place for a fulfilling life: a passion, a promising career, a possible romantic companion that inspires and values him #lucus forever

All of that is heartbreaking in its own right, but in the context of her surviving her illness more time than was expected, it is like the show is telling us his mom was trying to hold on until she knew Marcus was going to be all right.

Oh fuck you, Storer; I am gonna be crying internally about this all day.

Credits: first image image by @aeaeaexxzd, the rest by thedarkmongoose

#marcus my inpiration #lucus is my otp it need a name equivalent to chef kiss #lucus the bear #marcus the bear #marcus brooks #luca the bear #the bear #the bear fx #the bear meta

[inklore]

just a taste

premise: meeting luca after work doesn't usually end up with the two of you in an intense lip lock, both of you knowing once you start it's hard to stop. but that's what offices are for, right?

pairing: luca x (f)reader

word count: 3.1k

contents: literally barely any plot here, oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, coming inside, established relationship, doing it at the workplace, teasing, dirty talk, pet names.

note: i know the bare minimum about this man because i’ve never seen the bear but those tattoos, the accent, the hair?? fill me like an eclair is all i have to say ok!

The cool breeze of the night air almost makes you regret not just heading straight home and slipping under the steam of a nice long shower and grabbing the first blanket you see on the sofa and planting yourself there for the rest of the night. Await your boyfriend's arrival under the comfort of cotton and cushion that he’ll surely plop down next to you on after he’s kicked off his shoes. His cold fingers finding you under the blanket to pull you close to his side, a string of kisses pressed along the side of your neck before finding your lips. The smell of yeast and sugar—embedded in his skin at this point—making you bury your nose into his collarbone. 

But this was a ritual for the both of you. 

You finishing your studies and then meeting him after work. 

The two of you walking home together, barely making it through the threshold of your place before lips and clothes were being pressed together and thrown to the floor. Luca’s soft laugh at needing to shower. Thus always leading to your face pressed into the wall of the shower and Luca’s fingers digging into your hips as he thrust inside of you. 

So that nibble of regret doesn’t last long when you come to a stop in front of his work. The makings of anticipation pull at the corner of your mouth as you grab your phone from your bag and start to text him to let him know you’re out front. 

A text that’s barely on the last word when the breeze of the door is hitting you and making you look up, “you can go in. He's in the back.” a co-worker you’ve met a dozen times, but his name slips your mind as you give him an appreciative smile and thank him as you slip through the doors as he walks out. 

You could enter the kitchen a dozen times—a million, a billion—your nose filling with that sweet aroma, Luca bent over a table, a dish, fingers deep in a ball of dough, the monochromatic uniform making his tattoos stand out on his skin like the most beautiful canvas, and you’d never get over the view. 

Over how your insides react when you see him in his element.

See him doing what he loves. 

It’s like the first time every time. 

Just like the first time he dragged you into the kitchen after your tenth date. Showing you his own version of paradise. His love. His joy. The way his face lit up when your eyes brightened when you bit into the scone he had made—saved—for you. The euphoric sweetness a good dessert can do to one's brainstem is still a scientific mystery to you, but you’d gladly leave the research to the experts if you could experience it forever. 

Taste Luca’s creations forever. 

That memory seems like ages ago. Now well into two years of your relationship. 

Nothing seems to fade with Luca. 

Your first times feeling just as tortuous to your fluttering insides as the tenth or twentieth time around. 

It knocks you off kilter in the best way. 

And when you look over at Luca after dropping off your bag and sweater in an open chair, you can not help but laugh when he finally looks up from cleaning off the surfaces of the metal tables and that stone look of him being in chef mode falls from the creases of his face and his features melt into something soft. 

He doesn’t say anything until his arm is around your midsection, drawing you in. “Hi, beautiful.” He smiles as your lips meet in a long kiss. Kissing you as if he hasn’t seen you in days, as if he has spent the entire day waiting for this moment and this moment alone. “How was your day?” 

“Not as good as it is now,” you tease. Hand in the back of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. 

The hum that makes your lips buzz and that lands on your tongue as he backs you up so your back is pressed into the doorframe makes anything you could tell him about what happened in your day lackluster. Incomparable. How could you possibly think of anything worthwhile—how could anything be as worthwhile—as his tongue moving along your bottom lip, his hand at the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing a small circle into your skin? 

It couldn’t.

"Let me finish cleaning up," he smirks. Thumb and pointer reaching for your chin, squeezing it, luring you in for one last kiss before returning to cleaning and leaving you dazed in the doorway.  

And if you didn’t know how seriously Luca takes this, from the ritual of making pastries to maintaining a stern, clean kitchen, you would tell him to hurry. Complaining that it is not fair for him to kiss you like that and then make you wait for him to finish, but the payoff was always worth the wait. And you love Luca’s love for his craft. Love him in this element—watching him and seeing him go into that little part of his brain that makes him go into boss mode. 

The stern gentleness of it all. 

It’s breathtaking to watch.

It’s art.

He’s art. 

So that’s what you do. 

You push off the doorframe and enter further into the kitchen just to watch him. 

“How was your day?” You ask while watching him write on the white board in the corner. 

“Good. We got a new guy who came in.” 

“Is he any good?” 

“Better than he thinks he is.” 

“I bet you brought out his best. You always do.” You smile at him when you watch him shrug off the compliment, not missing the twitch of the corner of his mouth. Ever so modest. 

Wordlessly, he puts the cap back on the marker and sets it against the metal of the board, walking over to one of the refrigerators and pulling out a small bowl of something green and white. 

Something that looks too beautifully crafted to eat, let alone eaten by someone who might not fully understand what went into making something so decadent—something that looks like it would be served to someone with a gold card, not someone who eats boxed mac and cheese for dinner twice a week (which Luca always tries to make fancier than Kraft ever could). 

Luca hands you a spoon, “told him the only critic that mattered was sharing a bed with me.” You make a face, the both of you knowing how outlandish that sounds when the food genius himself is standing in front of you. The critic who mattered to a lot of people more than the girl who was sharing his bed. 

But it still brings a smile to your face. 

“Did he think you were utterly insane for such a statement? I think eating greasy takeout two nights in a row is five star dining.”

He chuckles, “you’re the only critic that matters to me.” His palms come down on the edge of the metal table between you as he leans against it. “The only important one at least. Try it.”

The swoop that runs through you from his words, from his eagerness to hear your thoughts on a dessert you do not even know the name of, but know you will appreciate more than anyone else because it came from someone he admires, makes your cheeks heat up. 

And when it touches your tongue, when that euphoric sweetness overcomes your tastebuds, you don’t think the English dictionary could come in handy with describing the taste. The goodness of it. Compliments, which you know Luca and his fellow chefs have heard many times before and then some. But still bring that artist's joy to their chests when your eyes widen and you look at them in something akin to shock. 

The moan you let out makes him grin.

“Good?”

“Is he single?” 

“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” His arms cross over his chest, a playful brow raised.

You take another bite of the dessert, “I think you might want to start looking for another job.”

“And a girlfriend?”

You nod, “with something that tastes this good, I would give him my social security number easily. Oh my god.” You dramatically moan around the spoon, the action doing little to hide the simpering look on your face.

“Here I thought I was the only one who could make you spill such confidential secrets.” Luca strides across the table, coming to stand at your back. His lips pressing against the back of your neck and the top of your shoulder. 

Finding its home where your collarbone meets the junction of your throat, where he lets his warm breath blow against the known sensitivity there, then presses his lips to it. Making your back push into his front, your body melting against him. 

A soft noise lays dormant at the tail end  of your throat, making a ghost of a smirk etch against your skin from his mouth as he murmurs, “and the only one who can make those noises come out of you.”

Your voice is breathy when you say, “so much for being humble.”

"When it’s the truth, I do not need to be humble." His lips trailing to your ear, fingers running up the back of your exposed thighs, pulling up your skirt until they are at the apex of your hip, skating forward and close to your clothed mound. “Am I wrong? Should we see?” 

The spoon in your hand lucky you don’t have superhuman strength because it would be crushed in your grip right now. 

Luca’s fingers splay themselves across your pelvis, toying with the top of your underwear. “Hmm, awfully quiet now. Where’d my mouthy girl go?” An airy chuckle tickles your ear as he lets it out, “humbled are you?” 

There’s a teasing sneer forming on your mouth before it does a 180 and morphs into an ‘o’ as Luca’s fingers push into your underwear, the pad running through the clear as day arousal that’s been making your thighs clench uncomfortably since your kiss in the doorway. 

When the finger moves against your clit there's no covering up the gasps that fall from your lips. Or the way your ass grinds against the erection that’s pressing up against it. 

“Who’s humble now?” He teases. A cheeky grin on his face when he pulls his hand out from your underwear, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking it into his mouth. Making your cheeks heat even more when you turn to look at him. Your teasing turns needy as you give him that look, the one that always makes him drop whatever he is doing and have his body on yours within seconds. 

You both know that making it home now will feel ten times longer. Ten times more agonizing in the cool air with your warming bodies.

With you soaking your underwear and him hard against his zipper. 

So when he says “office”, all you can do is chew on your bottom lip in eagerness as you make a beeline towards it. Luca closer behind you than you expect when you hear the door shut seconds after you’ve entered and his mouth immediately on yours, your ass hoisted onto the nearest surface. 

Luca’s fingers making quick work to pull down your underwear, your skirt bunched at your hips. You fully expect him to pull himself up from his knees after slipping the lace from your ankle and tossing it to the floor. You expect him to come back up and slide inside of you quick and easy, but instead he’s trailing kisses and bites into your thighs. 

Blue eyes look up into yours, and he must see the need in them—that glint that tells him all you want is for him to be inside of you right now. The heady woes of foreplay just torture at this point. 

His teeth sink harder into your flesh, making you gasp. “I’ve worked hard all day; don’t I deserve a treat? A taste of the best dessert out there.” 

And how could you argue with that?

You can’t.

Not when his tongue runs from the bite mark in your skin to your wetness. Spreading you around him as he licks a stripe up your pussy. Your grip on the metal your ass is under hard and tight enough to leave marks against your palm. 

And as crude as it makes you sound, as obscene and cocky as it comes off your lips, you will never hold back from telling Luca that his talent as a chef will never outweigh how good he is with his mouth and cock. 

He’s multi-talented and it’s a blessing and a curse to your insides. 

“Oh, fuck. Luca,” your head hangs between your shoulders. Your fingers in his hair, the heel of your shoe pressed against his back—his apron long gone, leaving him in that navy blue—his fingers digging into the side of your thighs as he keeps you against his mouth. 

The mouth that’s switching between sucking your clit between his lips and rolling his tongue against it. Eating you like you’re the best dessert his tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

It never takes him long to get you there. To make your chest heave and your nerve endings light up, as if they are about to make you panic from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that is completely taking over your body. 

His fingers have created beautiful, mouth watering food, just as they’ve made you completely lose your mind. Your legs shaking around his head. Your back involuntarily bows until it hits the metal surface of the desk you’re perched on. 

It’s when he slips two fingers inside of you that you completely lose it. The sob that pulls itself from your lungs feels red-hot in your throat as your fingers grip the strands of his blonde hair as you come against his mouth. Your hips riding out your high. Rolling against his tongue in a languid way, drawing out the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Your body still reeling and alight with that desire-train that still has it wanting more. That heavy ache between your legs that wants to be filled. To be fucked by something bigger and thicker than a finger.

Your mouth comes down on the tabasco tattoo below Luca’s wrist in a gentle kiss, one of your favorites of his, when his hand comes to cup the back of your head to pull you up to him. 

His thumb runs from your cheek to your chin, where he pushes it up, so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you as he stands between your legs. Your nails run along the tattoos along his arms, up his bicep, and to the nape of his neck. A fire burning in his eyes when your fingers run between the strands back there. 

“Tell me,” he says close to your lips. He’s checking in. Seeing if you’re too spent for his cock, seeing if there's more you want. If you want to wait until you get home. If you’re ready for him now. 

“It’d be cruel to not fuck me now.” You say it in a half-tease-half-serious tone. 

“Ooh,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “I don’t want to be cruel.” You can feel his other hand move between the two of you, undoing the button of his pants and messing with the zipper until he’s pulling himself out of them, hard and leaking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give my girl what she so desperately needs?” 

Luca smirks when you laugh into his mouth, “the worst kind.”

With one last kiss, lick, and nip at your lower lip, he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your thighs shake. Nails dig into his skull as he soaks up your oversensitivity to coat himself before going lower and slipping inside of you in one slow, fluid motion. 

Your mouth hung open at the stretch, and your breath caught in your lungs. Your foreheads resting against each other as you let your walls accommodate his girth, both of your breaths heavy. The pounding you can feel between your legs—that you’re not sure is coming from him or you or something more poetic and overwhelming like your conjoined bodies aching as one, like a heartbeat aches for a chest cavity when it’s torn from a body. 

The two of you need this. 

Need each other. 

When Luca starts moving, you know the two of you are both completely fucked. Spent and so full of desire that you know your time in this office is just the start of a long night of tangled limbs and wet mouths. 

The sounds you are making against each other's mouth are breathy and intoxicating. His tongue in your mouth swallows every mewl and moan he coaxes from your body with each stroke of his cock. 

His fingers find the back of your head again, not allowing you to even think about leaving his mouth. 

You think you see stars when his palm finds the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher on his hips. Think you could let this man completely consume you, and you’d still never be satisfied. Never get over how good it feels to feel his hips drive deeper into you, to feel the head of his cock hit that spot inside of you that makes his name roll off your tongue like a prayer. 

“Who’s pussy is it, baby?” 

"Mm'fuck," you are not sure if he is still playing the game of you leaving him for the new chef or if his filthy mouth is attempting to completely destroy you—which is nothing new when he has you coating and tightening around his cock like this. 

When you say his name, when you whine it into his mouth like a pathetic desperation, the erotic noise that it’s met with makes you cling to him tighter. Makes you press yourself closer to him. The movement makes the outside of his pants grind against your clit. 

“So beautiful,” Luca murmurs. The octave of his voice grows lower and choppy with heavy breaths the closer he gets. Neither of you lasts much longer when his pace picks up. The grip the two of you have on each other is hard and rough, enough to tear and leave marks that you’ll later kiss with gentle lips, unlike the passion that’s coming through with the hard kisses your mouths are giving as you both come. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” He breathes into your mouth, twisting your insides even more. 

#luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #will poulter smut #luca smut #luca x you #luca the bear x you #the bear #the bear fanfiction #will poulter x you #the bear fx #the bear one shot #will poulter fic #the bear x reader #will poulter #adam warlock smut #luca one shot #the bear imagine

[goodsirs]

Will Poulter as Luca in The Bear — 2.04 "Honeydew"

#the bear #the bear fx #will poulter #luca the bear #thebearedit #tvedit #wpoulteredit #willpoulteredit #*

[drrav3nb]

MARCUS & LUCA | THE BEAR SEASON TWO

#thebearedit #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear s2 #will poulter #lionel boyce #marcus the bear #luca the bear #i see the vision y'all #imma need luca to come back in s3 so you can take his new bf on a date #like can we talk about that first gif #luca had such a bright smile after marcus teased himmmmmm #omgggggg #and look how happy marcus looked when he got that letter from luca! MY PRECIOUS BABY #and look at that look luca gives marcus in the second gif like HELLOOOOOOOO! #and luca mimicking the operation game sounds after marcus brings it up T_T my silly goofy boys deserve each other! #chef boyfriends #bakery boyfriends #i need a ship name!

[filmtvtoday]

Marcus— MAKE IT WORTH IT! GOOD LUCK Luca, #33

#the bear #thebearedit #marcus brooks #luca the bear #ours #mia #usergiu #usernivi #usergreta #jackpearcsn #trueloveistreacherous #usermaguire #userabs #userzaynab #useraurore #usersavana #tuserhan #tuserambs #usermimsi #usertina #useralison #userjessica #uservalentina

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still. 

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin. 

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine. 

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight. 

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son. 

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either. 

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall. 

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father. 

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together. 

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma. 

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up. 

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head. 

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms. 

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household. 

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating. 

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?” 

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!

#will poulter #chef luca #luca the bear #the bear fx #chef luca x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x ex-wife!reader #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #will poulter fic #will poulter fluff #will poulter angst #will poulter smut #ava writes

[dropitpunk]

luca and carmen berzatto both being into you

luca x fem reader x carmen berzatto

cw: threesome (they tag team you), dubcon if you squint, sub!reader, degradation, creampie, dirty talk, vaginal sex, anal sex and rimming, oral, manhandling, rough sex, crying during the act.

sequel to this. i recommend you to read it first!

a finger was now finding the way under your shirt, slow and teasing.

"we will have to wait until someone finds us." carmen leaned in and whispered playfully in your ear.

"what do you mean? do you... do you not have your phone with you?" you asked meekly, feeling luca's hands creeping under your shirt and caressing your waist. carmen smiled at you, clear amusement covered his whole face.

"why would i have it? we were just cleaning, pretty thing." carmen said in a condescending way. deep down you knew it wasn't a good reason, but you were getting confused with how strong his perfume was up close, a mix of cigarettes, sweat and just pure man.

"but... what are we gonna do?" you were suddenly feeling shy under the attention from the two men. luca stopped his hands just under your breasts, looking at carmen before answering into your neck.

"i have a few ideas, baby." luca kissed the back of your neck softly, barely there. your body shivered and you gulped, looking clueless at carmen who just brought a hand to your cheeks. "and i'm sure i'm not the only one with them."

"d'you wanna stay here with us?" carmen kissed your forehead gently as luca peppered your neck with wet kisses, breathing heavily in your ear. you didn't consider there could be a choice until now, and your mind couldn't process an answer with how hot you were feeling.

"hmm?" luca pressed, rubbing his growing erection into your ass and making you moan against carmen's hand. you nodded quickly and eager, lust clouding any possible judgement.

carmen's lips brushed against yours while luca kept humping you through your clothes, hands finding your breasts and holding you tight to his body.

"i guess you do." carmen kissed you with roughness and lack of care, his lips chapped but soft against yours. his tongue explored your mouth messily, a visible display of dominance when combined with the strong hand holding your face in place by your neck. the other was caressing your hair, grabbing it with force enough to make you whine in little pain.

luca's hands went under your bra, teasing your nipples with the tip of his fingers while carmen kissed you, letting one of his hands go to your ass and squeeze, slapping the back of your thighs with a smirk against your mouth. you moaned, trying to make sense of the situation, overwhelmed with sensations.

they were everywhere, swallowing you and doing whatever they wanted.

your pussy was so wet you were sure they could feel it over your clothes, throbbing against carmen's clothed cock that stimulated you just right when he bucked his hips.

"i can't believe you're this horny from being groped by two men in this fucking closet." luca laughed against your skin, he sounded so mean to your ears your pussy clenched around nothing, whining against carmen's lips.

a string of saliva connected you and carmen when he pulled away, he smiled at how shiny your eyes looked and how swollen your lips were. he pecked your lips and kissed your cheeks, whispering to you, "probably would've liked more men in here, fucking slut."

"no, carmy." you whined and you couldn't recognize your own voice, so high pitched and needy. luca scoffed, pinching your nipples as if he was punishing you.

"you answer him but not me?" luca said annoyed and unclasped your bra, carmen helped him out and took off your shirt quickly.

you were exposed, and before you could think about covering your breasts with your hands you were being turned around, now facing luca and his furrowed eyebrows.

luca didn't get angry at you often, always so sweet and gentle with you, but you couldn't be more turned on from how possessive he looked. his gaze was burning your skin.

"thanks, man, this is all for me now." carmen winked at luca and he rolled his eyes, mouth finding your sensitive nipples and twirling his tongue around one nub, the other being roughly handled by his hands. his fingers could cover your whole breasts by how big they were.

carmen's fingers went and came from caressing your back and your waist, back to massaging your shoulders and neck. he continued for a few seconds before tugging at your pants, playing with the buttons before kissing the top of your head.

"i just have to know how wet you are first. i bet you are dripping, you sound so fucking horny, baby." you moaned in response and he slid a hand under your pants, rubbing you over your panties. your hips bucked against his fingers, trying to get any contact possible.

your panties were ruined, barely any fabric left to cover your pussy from his touch. carmen smirked and pressed his thumb against your clit, your ass rubbing against his groin. luca grazed his teeth over your nipples just to bring your attention back to him, kissing down your belly and stopping just before carmen's hands were.

"you wanna see?" you let a confused sound and then realized carmen was not talking to you when luca nodded against your chest. you felt two fingers going under your panties and sliding against your slit, collecting the wetness there and leaving just as you were starting to hump his hand.

"look at this, fucking soaked. just from a little kissing and touching." carmen held his fingers up to luca and you felt your face burn, an embarrassed noise letting your throat and making luca chuckle.

"i don't even think she can handle us both, being this weak." luca said and carmen brought his own fingers to his mouth, tasting you and humming with delight. "we gon' have to keep her still so she can take it."

luca took your pants and underwear off in one go, holding your arms so you could step off them without falling into carmen. you were completely exposed to their predatory eyes, feeling conscious of how luca and carmen were still completely clothed.

you felt dirty, it felt good.

"real gorgeous, baby," carmen said against your skin as he got down on his knees, hands grabbing your waist. you couldn't see, but the look in his eyes was full of devotion, ready to give it all to you. he kissed your ass cheeks, resting his forehead against you and breathing heavily.

"you smell so good," luca whispered and kissed your belly button, groaning when he caught sight of your pussy, glistening with wetness and all puffy from carmen's touch. he kissed your knees and two strong hands separated your legs as he bit and licked your inner thighs.

carmen held your ass cheeks apart, biting the skin softly and slowly bringing his tongue to your hole. you jumped, the feeling foreign but welcomed.

"never had your ass played with before? gon' have to prep you before i fuck you here, baby." carmen smiled teasingly and luca chuckled, amused at your gasps and sighs and how your body tensed at carmen's words.

luca lapped all the wetness from your inner thighs, giving your pussy a little kiss before licking your slit, groaning into your cunt with hunger.

they were synchronized when they found your most sensitive spots, sucking and licking you like two starved men in a competition. your legs turned into jelly and you were sure you would have fallen if their grip wasn't so tight.

carmen bent you a bit more so he could stuff his tongue into you as he grabbed your ass, saliva dripping from his chin and making a mess in your thighs.

your hands were holding onto luca's hair for dear life as he sucked your clit, the slurping sounds loud and embarrassing to your ears but quickly getting overhead by your moans and curse words.

"pussy so good, carmen, you need to have it later," luca took a breath to glance at carmen, half of his face covered in your juices. "wet and so fucking sloppy just how i like it."

"her ass is so tight, think you gon' have to keep her mouth shut or she gon' scream this whole place down when i'm fucking it. isn't it right, baby?" carmen said like you were too dumb to understand, and he seemed right when you just whined in agreement, tongue too heavy in your mouth and jaw slack.

luca suddenly stuffed two fingers into you, sliding them in just easy from how soaked you were. carmen took a hint to do the same, sucking one finger and entering your ass, pumping it slowly and carefully to not make it hurt so much.

luca reached up and grabbed your breasts for support, tongue working along with his fingers to make you a moaning mess. you clenched around carmen's finger, your hand slamming the wall beside you to equilibrate.

"she's gonna be too busy trying to take my cock into her pussy to care about you, carmys." that seemed to irritate carmen, as he brought another finger to your ass much more harsh, the tight skin around it burning and stretching to accommodate the thickness of his digits.

luca moved quicker, fingers leaving and entering your cunt in a fast pace, the tips were reaching your sweet spot in a way only a experienced man could. you could swear you were seeing stars, eyes pitch black and head dizzy. your head was spinning and your stomach was so tight you didn't know if you were gonna cum or faint. or all at the same time.

"sweetheart is gonna cum." carmen cooed at you and spit into your asshole, finding the pace that brought you the most pleasure.

his tongue joined his fingers and you were gone, coming hard around luca's fingers and on his mouth. you felt like you were gonna pass out, seeing black for a few seconds and only feeling your high.

luca drank up all your wetness with thirst, making you try to get away from his mouth, overstimulated. carmen held you in place, his tongue even far into you as you kept rolling your hips in hope of stop being touched.

you cried out, "too much."

they pretended to not hear and luca only stopped when he looked up and saw tears running down your face, stopping licking your pussy and bringing two hands to your face.

"baby, why are you crying already? you forgot you still have to take our cocks? so cute." luca cooed at you and pinched your checks, pecking your mouth a couple times.

carmen stood up before giving your ass a gentle slap, kissing the back of your head.

carmen held your chin to his face now, kissing your lips and looking at luca before smiling and saying, "i don't think she understood you. she's got a dumb look in her eyes."

"such a cute fucktoy. the cutest really," luca said against your neck, unbuckling his belt with one hand, tatted arm holding your waist firmly. luca rubbed his cock against you still with his boxers on, teasing you a little.

on the other hand, carmen put his pants down quickly, just enough for his dick to spring free, hitting your ass in the process. he kissed behind your ear, smiling at your sobbing, more tears running down your face.

"just fuck me, please, please..." you didn't know at who you were directing your pleads. it could be to any of them, and it was to both at the same time.

"you gon' learn to appreciate me more. you think carmen is gonna go easy on your virgin little hole? i'm just gonna destroy you a little, pretty. it's not even gonna hurt." luca smiled down at you and you shivered, holding onto his arms and throwing your head back. his blond hair was messy, and his skin was sweating, cheeks slightly flushed with the heat.

you could feel carmen's curls tickling your skin as he laughed, rubbing his cock against your entrance. the hole clenched around nothing, copious amounts of saliva coating his tip when he slowly entered you, just the tip resting in you.

you gasped, feeling it burn. carmen was thick, more than any partner you've ever been with, and feeling him a way you've never felt anyone before was overwhelming.

your glassed eyes looked for luca for support when carmen let more spit coat his dick and thrusted into you with full force, your whole body burning with the sensation. it was a pleasurable pain, just enough to make you wince but throw your ass back to him. luca just smirked, watching you struggling to take it all.

you were gasping for air, but luca didn't let you look back to carmen as he took your mouth in his, covering your noises with his tongue.

"i told you you'd have to shut her up." carmen chuckled and caressed your waist, being merciful as he let you accommodate to his size. his white shirt was almost see through with how much you were sweating, wrinkled from your touch.

you were too distracted to see luca freeing his painfully hard cock from his boxers, but you surely felt his full length sliding into your pussy in one movement. he gasped, he didn't really mean to but you were just so wet his hips lost control. you moaned loud against his mouth.

"i'm too full..." your eyes rolled back and you could feel your orgasm approaching just from feeling them inside you. you were aching, ass and pussy stuffed so full you couldn't even move.

"hold on tight, baby." carmen kissed your hair and started moving with caution, stretching you up in a way you didn't thought it was possible. while carmen was thicker, luca was longer, reaching a deep spot inside of you.

carmen was groaning in your ear every time he moved, the tightness around his dick too much to take. he held his shirt up and watched it disappear into your ass inch by inch, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"i can feel him inside you too. i guess it's the first time we are getting along." luca laughed and whispered against your face. he started to thrust into you, holding your leg up so he could find your g-spot quicker. the angle made carmen come closer to you, sturdy chest pressed against your back.

they found a rhythm that seemed to work for all three, using you for their pleasure, bending you and moving your limbs as they liked. strong bodies held you in place, their cocks going in and out of you at a rough pace.

luca's heavy balls slapped against your pussy and he moaned with his face in your neck, kissing you and making you move by his strong hands in your waist.

carmen embraced your upper body and whined while rubbing his curls in your shoulder, back hugging you in a rather sweet act. much different from how rough he was fucking your ass, from how hoarse his voice was from spilling obscenities to you over and over.

"gonna come in your ass, baby." carmen struggled to say as his balls were tightening and you clenched around them, saliva pooling in your mouth and running down your chin.

your face was covered in tears, eyes all red and swollen from how much you were crying. it was too good, too much all at once. you could barely take it.

"you gonna have to suck my cock clean from how much cum i'm gonna give you." luca groaned, almost delirious with your pussy squeezing him so well.

your belly clenched and you couldn't breathe, reaching the strongest orgasm you've ever had around their cocks. you couldn't see or hear anything for a moment, just how good you were feeling. your head was resting against carmen's unconsciously and your hand was holding luca's, trying to find support.

they kissed you through it wherever they could reach, coming at the same time. your ass and pussy were full of cum, mostly dripping from your inner thighs and ass to the floor, making a mess around you.

you were all warm, slowly coming back from your high. luca looked attentive at you, although breathless and visibly shaken. carmen rested his forehead against your shoulder, eyes closed and arms still around you, hold even more intense now.

"you okay?" carmen was the first one to talk after minutes of recovering, voice sweet and with sincere concern.

"yeah, i'm good." you said, body still spasming. a gentle kiss was placed on your lips from luca, and two on your cheeks.

"then we can switch places." carmen smiled wickedly and winked at luca, who smirked and nodded.

they were finally getting to know each other.

a/n: thank you for the response on the first part, it encouraged me lots. i would really appreciate it if you shared your thoughts on this one!

#the bear #luca the bear #luca x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear imagine #carmen berzatto x you #will poulter x reader #will poulter #jeremy allen white

[pantherxrogers]

You’re #1 to Me - Luca x Reader One-Shot (18+ ONLY)

Content warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, explicit language, and sexual content

Summary: The reader and Luca are in an established relationship. Luca comes home after finding out he isn’t the actually best chef (based on the conversation in episode 4 w/ Marcus). The reader is determined to lend him a HAND 🤗

A/N: Did I just write smut about a character with less than 10 minutes of screentime?! MAYBE YES!! 😛 I’ve been extremely down bad for Will Poulter recently 😭 also,,, @wakandamama ‘s Sydney x Carmy fics are inspiring me to write more! Here’s a one-shot for my favorite baker! <3

“Babe, he’s like....really good,” Luca murmurs into the quiet air of your shared apartment.

“Yeah, but so are you.” Your confidence in him is slowly soothing the ache in his chest. 

“It’s just…he’s like..” He can feel the words slipping from his brain, the steady feeling of your fingers against his scalp lulling him into a relaxed state.

The pair of you are tangled together on the couch, you’re halfway on his lap while he rests his head against the back cushion. The smooth column of his necks calls out to you, tempting and waiting. His eyelids flutter involuntarily, when he feels the soft kiss you place there.

“He’s like…what?” You breath against his neck, pulling him away from the noise in his head. The silence stretches between the two of you, Luca’s uncertainty stirring up inside of him.

“Because, I say,” you whisper into his ear, “you’re still number one to me.”

Your arm drapes loosely around his shoulder now, nestling further into his side. His strong arm acts as a cradle, pulling you in, before he meets your eyes.

The sadness in his eyes has given way to something else, and it causes a warm tingle to flood your body. The tension has shifted now, and it’s much more welcome this time.

“Come here,” his voice is firm, but gentle when he turns to give you his full attention. Leaning in, his lips are tentative against your own. This kiss is soft and light, but it still makes your tummy flutter. The insecurity that he’s been feeling at work weighs him down. Luckily, you know what he needs in this moment.

The intensity of your lips against his own brings him back into the moment. While he might not feel like the best chef in the world, he’ll be damned if he can’t help you feel as good as possible.

Deepening the kiss, he eases his hands onto your hips, bringing you to his lap in one fluid motion. The sudden change of pace leaves you breathless, giggling into the kiss when your lips meet again.

He breaks the kiss, only to softly nip at your neck, teasing you until he gets to the spot that makes you let out a soft moan.

Your hips softly rock against his own, the thin pajamas pants making it much easier for you to feel the growing tent in his pants. Wandering hands knead against the plush of your ass, his hips lazily grinding upwards.

When you bury your face in his neck, you’re met with the lingering smell of sugar that clings to him. The scent overwhelms you, driving your need to be even closer. All you can focus on is making him forget about his stress.

Your hands trail down, slowly lifting his shirt over his head, revealing the tanned skin beneath it. You can’t help but trail your hands over the defined muscle, his eyes following your motion.

“Luca,” your soft voice grabs his attention. He’s in a trance, the soft lighting of your shared apartment makes your beauty feel unbearable.  It’s only when you softly smirk at him that he’s prompted to respond.

“Yes, love?” The raspiness of his voice makes you tug on your lip, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by your lover. His hands have slipped into your bottoms, toying with the string of your thong.

“I want to make you feel good, is that okay?” His answering groan makes your heart race, “You know you don’t have to ask me that,” he grunts, tugging you back in for a kiss.

His lips are urgent against your own, the smooth glide of his tongue causing a stir in your belly. You blindly reach down to loosen his belt buckle. The kiss breaks, only for a moment, so you can look down to lower the band of his sweats.

His lips frantically reconnect with yours, eager to be close to you. Each swipe of your tongue against his own is making him harder, the thin boxers doing little to conceal him. He jumps a little when you reach your hand down to stroke him through the fabric.

“Hmm, fuck,” he sighs, the gentle touch of your hand causes his hips to stutter. You ease off of his lap, sitting on your knees next to him, needing more space for what you’re about to do.

In a swift motion, you’re rolling down his boxers, causing him to hiss as the cool air meets his hard cock. He glances over as you reach up to wet the palm of your hand, the lewd act making him twitch.

When your soft hand wraps around his base, Luca swears he might pass out. You stroke him from the base to the tip, causing precum to leak onto your hand. He lets out a loud moan when when find a steady rhythm. He’s thick and warm in your hand, turning you on even more.

“Does that feel good baby, hmm?” You tease him, his hips bucking up to chase the relief.

“Yes, fuck, f-feels good,” he moans out, his hand reaching around to grip your lower back, grounding himself. You’re leaning into him, pressing kisses against his neck, then softly sucking on the skin. Your hand slows against him, toying with his tip.

“I can tell, baby, you’re making a mess all over my hand,” you breathe out, loving the way his cock twitches as you tease him.

“C-can’t help it, you feel so good,” he whines out, trying to keep his hips still. Your other hand comes up to softly tug at his balls, making him lose his composure.

He lets out a curse as he throws his head against the back of the couch, his hips bucking against your hand.

“It’s okay, baby, you can come for me,” the warmth in your voice engulfs him, causing him to release all over your hand.

His chest slows as he comes down from his high, muscles slowly relaxing further into the couch. You retract your hand, reaching for his shirt to clean him off before gently tucking him back into his boxers.

The soft presses of your lips against his cheeks bring him back down to Earth, his eyes finding yours without fail.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of you feel shy, the redness in his cheeks makes your heart swell.

His blonde hair is messy now, adding to the boyish look on his face. His eyelids droop now, the knowledge that you’ve fully relaxed him causing a genuine smile to spread across your face.

The rest of the night is spent in both of your favorite ways, tangled together, listening to the lull of the other’s heartbeat.

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

Tagging my fellow The Bear enthusiasts 🥳 (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@wakandama2​ @blowmymbackout​ ​ @kdoxkeic 

#the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #the bear smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #will poulter fanfic #will poulter fanfiction #luca the bear #the bear #the bear fx #the bear x reader #will poulter smut #luca x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #will poulter #𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics

[nolita-fairytale]

Pastry Chef Luca of the Bear Masterlist

burn your life down: (pastry chef luca x fem!reader)

leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep. it's a story about learning how to fall in love again, about second chances, finding inspiration, and that sometimes, change can be really, really good. (completed)

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen

don't you worry there's still time (pastry chef luca oneshot, from the world of 'burn your life down')

headcanon: new year's ever & day with luca

burn your life down bonus content

meeting pastry chef luca headcanon (teaser for 'burn your life down')

pov: you're the main character of 'burn your life down' and this is your instagram grid (moodboard/social media pov)

pov: youre the head chef of kokuore - the restaurant in 'burn your life down'

a behind the scenes look at 'burn your life down'

the secondary characters - the kimuras & the mikkelson twins

instagram profiles for the secondary characters by @translatemunson

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[unbearableblog]

My Christmas gift for you.

Messages (Carmen Berzatto x reader)

Summary Carmy’s actions towards the reader might eventually lead to consequences.

Word count ~2,8k

Warnings 18+, No use of Y/N (there is rarely a name but it’s just for aesthetics, you are welcome to insert your own name), action set in S2 so possible spoilers, cursing, angst, relationship problems, possible mentions of smut

A/N God this took a lot from me! Legit flew to Copenhagen haha. I am very grateful to each and every one of you who read, liked, commented or reposted and supported this! I would never think that this would happen. I hope you’re not going to crucify me over the plot. Thank you so much for waiting!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Chapter 1 (the one with departure, Denmark, and desserts)

Things were a little different at the Beef lately.

“Richie, shut the fuck up!”

“You first, child!”

Well, maybe not so different. But they certainly were different with you. Amongst the neverending screaming, cursing, and fighting, you somehow survived getting shot at, losing the power, dealing with the IRS, and everything else that constantly went wrong with this cursed place. The amount of experience you had in this short amount of time has topped anything you've done before. You couldn't catch your breath. But that's what you do for the ones you love, right?

It's been some time since you started helping Carmen with the Beef - serving the customers on a particularly busy day, calming down Carmen, sometimes giving Richie a pep talk when he needed to keep his shit together. But mostly you just chatted with Sydney and sat in the kitchen, doing your college assignments while watching Carmen work. You could never get tired of it - he looked so professional and smart. It was his element. Well, when everything was going well.

The entire time, you were there, talking to Carmen as he prepped for the day, giving him a smile and getting one back, just watching him go on about his day and move so swiftly like a well-oiled machine. Seeing him in an apron drove you wild. You'd have to stop yourself from going up to him and touching his god-given curls or rubbing his back through his white T-shirt (but more often you failed to do so). Most of the days you patiently waited to go home and show him everything that was on your mind all day.

One time he caught you staring, mind far away from the Beef. His voice brought you back.

“Are you thinking about my fingers again?” He said while putting his arms at his hips, almost offended.

You bit your lip and looked at him with a guilty smile.

His hand went up to brush through his curls.

“You’re not gonna get any work done if you keep thinking about that. And with the way you look at me, can say the same thing about myself.”

You whine and playfully pout, not wanting to keep studying.

“Come on, princess,” he comes closer to you and whispers in your ear so that his whole voice goes through your body and his lips brush your ear “And when we get home you can tell me all about it while you sit on my ‘pretty’ cock”

Sometimes he would explain what he was doing or why things weren't going the way they were supposed to, sometimes you would share something you found fascinating in your assignment. He would always listen, even if he didn't fully understand, but you knew he was trying to. It made you feel so special - you got the whole attention of this hot 3 Michelin star chef, covered in tattoos and buff, but he looked at you with such care and softness. His muscular arms touched and wrapped around you with strong tenderness and appreciation. Sometimes you saw the same attention to the details in the food he was making - he really cared.

Everything changed after the Beef closed down.

Carmen was a little taken aback when you told him you were going to Copenhagen with Marcus. You were at the restaurant, like any other day, figuring out a thousand things that were wrong before the opening, when you heard Denmark being mentioned amongst the guys.

“Someone's going to Denmark?” you asked, turning around on your chair.

“Marcus is,” Carmen brushed off, and continued having his conversation with him.

“Wait, to Copenhagen? Why?” you felt ignored.

“Uhh, to learn everything about desserts,” Marcus answered. Carmen didn't even look in your direction.

“When? Why didn't you tell me?” you sounded excited because you were, but your heart felt like it was placed into an iron cage. Carmen knew how much that city meant to you, and to not even mention that your friend was going there felt neglectful. But maybe you were overreacting - he was probably busy, he doesn't have to tell you everything, and it surely wasn't for long anyway.

Berzatto shrugged his shoulders. “Why? It's just for some time.”

“I was actually thinking about going there too. I haven't seen my sister in a while. Maybe we could fly together? I know everything there,” you were ready to help Marcus as a bonus. You really appreciated him as a friend, and returning the favor for all those delicious pastries he made at your request would be terrific. You could also use a fucking break from Chiberia.

“For real? That would be awesome!” Marcus exclaimed with his arms, his smile releasing your heart from its prison.

“Uhh… yeah-yeah, sure, I guess,” Carmen squinted his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I- uhhh, have to go out for a minute. Umm,” he swallowed “-meet that rep for me, yeah?”

An entire work shift of flying has gone by the time you started seeing the bronze-roofed houses sprinkled like decorations on a Red Velvet cake. You made Marcus promise you not to judge the country by its airport, as it usually was surprisingly dirty. Nevertheless, there were hints of what life there was like - a burst of energy, culture, and flavour. You walked what seemed like forever through the endless white halls with blue sections, wondering how many times Carmen had been here and whether you ever crossed paths. You kind of wished he was there. Your excitement rubbed off on your friend - Marcus was beaming with happiness, anticipating your time there. He knew it was going to be life-changing.

The moment you went outside felt like you could breathe again. The weight of The Beef, Carmen, stress, problems problems problems dropped off, was left behind, and never got on the plane. Your chest wasn't encircled by snakes that only pushed until you suffocated. Your mind was clear.

You helped Marcus settle in his awesome boat, and after reading the owner's note to "keep the water in Coco's bowl", searched for the cat for like 20 minutes. Unfortunately, your efforts were fruitless.

Marcus only let you go back alone because you assured him of your safety (you gave him a speech about how it wasn't like Chicago) and experience. Still, he made you text him when you got to your sister's. The two of you were always trying to make your relationship work, but the distance didn't make it easy. That did not mean that you were going to give up - you were used to making a lot of effort for the people you love. She was ecstatic and grateful to see her little sister. The rest of the evening was spent eating, sharing your lives, and talking about your mysterious boyfriend.

“I don’t know, he’s just so… distant. He always leaves somewhere, does god knows what when he knows we don’t have much time! Sometimes it feels like I care about the restaurant more than him. Which is so weird because he was so into it before! He planned the whole thing! And I am so fucking stressed from it all! I never even wanted to work in a restaurant but I was there for him!” you expressed your pain very loudly.

“Have you thought of… breaking up with him?”

You exhale and almost completely give up mentally.

“I don’t know… it feels like we don’t have much of a relationship at all anymore. We don’t go out, all the time is spent on the opening. I swear sometimes I’m there just for our friends and his sister, I can’t just leave them without help while he’s wandering somewhere”.

You couldn’t sleep because being in bed without Carmy by your side felt plain wrong. You were also jetlagged which meant that the peaceful world of Morpheus was avoiding you like a plague. The same thing happened to Marcus, so you both were just texting about what you were doing.

“idk, i gave up and went to get some tea” you typed, a warm mug in your hand as you cozied up on the couch with a blanket.

“yeah, same shit here. bout time to get ready anyway”

Your whole house was asleep, and probably would be so for a while. It was too dark to go out for your liking. Boredom kind of crept in.

“what is it exactly u're gonna do there?”

“uhhh i wish i knew. make some things from the pics i showed u i guess”

“can i watch?” Was it too much of a request? Who even knows if you'll be allowed there?

“yeah i think so. i'd love to not have to do this alone”

You smile, finish your tea, and get up to find some clothes.

You finally reached the place and were met by a tall man in an apron. He introduced himself as Luca, and you heard a very sultry voice softened by an accent. You wondered where he was from.

“I'm Chef Marcus. That's Liv. Is it cool if she just hangs around and watches me?”

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hello. You could also join in. What kind of a chef are you?”

“Oh I'm not, I'm -”

“Well, with the amount of time Liv spends in our kitchen listening to every word of the CDC, I'd say she might as well be a chef by now,” Marcus only half-jokes. You give him a look anyway.

Luca prepared everything and soon he and Marcus were working. You were sitting on the other side of the table, able to see everything. Only now you were starting to notice how strong he was, you have to be, you thought, if you stay on your feet all day. His arms were also covered in tattoos that didn't seem to make sense, like Carmy's.

“So who are you?” Luca's question doesn't sound rude, just curious.

“I'm his boss' girlfriend,” you nod as you speak.

“Wow,” he seems to be thinking something, but maybe it's just him being focused on putting the peanuts on dessert, “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, visiting my sister? It was time and I thought Marcus here could use someone to show him around. As for here, I was really jetlagged and bored.”

Luca was amazing. The way he coached Marcus even when he made mistakes was consistently calm, stern, and leading. Not once did any of you feel berated or hear his voice go louder, all you knew was to just try again. His entire presence excreted stability and equilibrium.

After an extensive lesson, it was Marcus' turn to try. All of you leaned closer to the dessert in hopes of seeing more. You held your breath as you watched Marcus carefully place a tiny piece in the clockwise direction of the dessert when in the blurred background of your vision you felt something change. Instinctively, you looked up from the dish, and your eyes met the gaze of your friend's teacher. There he was, almost lying on the table, looking at you. As if he wasn't busy right now. As if the dessert didn't matter. Hypnotized. “Got it!” Marcus smiled and stood straight up. “Great job, chef,” Luca switched back to Marcus.

Suddenly a firework of spice embraced you in its scent, making your head go round from the all-encompassing desire to taste it.

“Oh my god, are those cinnamon buns?” you had to put your hands on the counter to keep yourself up. “Yeah,” Luca stood straight. “You like them?” “They smell amazing!” you could swear you saw a quick prideful smile brush Luca's lips.

“They are her favourite. And she's very specific about'em too,” Marcus threw you under the bus.

Luca seems interested. “In what way?”

“I'm not, okay? I just believe that cinnamon buns should have a lot of sugar and cinnamon, or else they're just buns. There was this place near the park, and the pastry they sold was like 90% dough. I didn't like that at all” you defend yourself, and Marcus scoffs, having heard you rant about it many times at The Beef.

“Abomination,” Luca shakes his head.

“Exactly! I love it when there is so much sugar that it's oozing out, that's how it'd supposed to be.”

Your lighthearted banter somehow led to Luca opening up and talking about his life and experience. He also shared a couple of stories about determination, his acceptance of not being the best, and some of his failures. Soon all of you were joking around and laughing at your pasts. You felt your heart warm up to him and thought that leaving the house was a good idea.

Marcus stepped outside to check on his mom. He called her sitter as often as he could, and every time you hoped that everything would be alright. Luca was silently doing his work, kneading some dough. It was a demanding process, but so meditative, and you couldn't help but float away watching his big hands grab and squeeze the smooth dough, throwing it back onto the table occasionally, his long fingers dug into it, leaving an impression. “So where is he now?” you ask. “Who?” “The chef who was better than you. Where is he now?” you wondered if Carmen knew him or told you about him. “Well, you tell me. Apparently, opening up a new restaurant,” the chef said, as he threw a careless nod in your direction. Huh? Your heart drops. What? You let out a nervous scoff. “You're saying it was… Carmen??” Your question was met with a simple nod as he kept working. “Carmen Berzatto, the chef that was better than you at everything?” you almost spell out. Luca just takes his eyes off the dough and watches your reaction. He is also confused. “God, he really is the best?” the question sounds more like an exhale. “People keep saying it, but I guess I didn't realize” you sit down, defeated, and stare off. Your mind keeps pacing - what happened to Carmen? How did he go from being the best to being a yelling mess of chaos? Why is someone who looked up to him so calm and collected but still successful? Why can't he be like that? “You sound surprised. What, he doesn't feel like it?” He asks while kneading the dough, this time slower and a little softer. You look at him, then shake your head away and look down. You want to tell him everything about the way Carmen treats you, and how different that is from what your beginning used to be, how he doesn't appreciate you even though you spent so much time in and on The Beef, and how unfair that is, and have his deep voice tell you the answer, but you can't. That would be weird. Luca notices your hesitation. “You know, when we worked together, he would often be… difficult,” there is a pause after he says it because he is reading your face, trying to understand if he's walking on thin ice. He isn't, so he continues. “Partly why I didn't become better than him was because he wouldn't let me.” “Yeah, he shared something like that.” His brows went a little higher, and his grip on the dough hardened and stayed there. “My point is, being with a person like that can't be easy. Man, we only worked together and I already wanted to smother him, can't imagine being in a bloody relationship,” his smile makes you laugh and for a second you forget every bad thing in the world.

Later that day you wanted to call Carmen. “Carm, you free?” You wished to tell him everything - how much you loved the city, how nice his friend was, the fun you were having, and how good this was for you. Kinda wanted to beat his ass for being so mean to Luca too. “not rn, Liv, busy”

Of course.

“Olivia! Come here!” your sister screamed to get your attention. You noticed she was standing at the door, talking to somebody, so you got up and approached her. “What's up?” you asked. She closed the door and turned to you, holding something in her hands. “It's a gift from your boyfriend,” she said in a teasing tone, and you could swear that the last time you saw her that giddy was in high school. “What? How do you know?” A drop of hope celebrated its birth in your chest. “The delivery guy said it's from a chef,” the last word she playfully stretched out, so it came out a little funny, like Tina says it. You couldn't believe it. There it was, a white box carefully tied with a red ribbon. Finally Carmen realised how distracted he was and decided to apologize. Obviously, you were gone, so he missed you. Your heart filled with warmth and you smiled to yourself - you knew things would get better. You take the hefty precious gift from your sister's hands, sit on the couch, and open it with anticipation. Inside, 9 breathtaking gourmet cinnamon rolls with caramelized sugar barely fitting, leaking out of the mouthwatering, well-kneaded dough. And a note.

"You deserve all the best in the world - Luca"

I hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 might come quicker if you comment how you liked it

Snippet from the next chapters

🏷️ Tagged everyone in the comments! If you want to be excluded, just let me know♥️ @carma-fanficaddict @eternallyvenus @sia2raw @helloheyhihowdyheya @soursopsista @m1dnightsnackz @custarrds

Dividers by @saradika

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #carmy x reader #the bear season 2 #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #the bear fx #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #chef luca #chef luca x reader #chef luca x you #luca the bear #luca x reader #the bear show #carmy x y/n #copenhagen #the bear series

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #luca the bear #the bear tv show #the bear x you #the bear x reader #the bear imagine

[thiagodasilva]

chef luca and his shiso dish. if you even care

#I’m LOOOKING #will honey the only blond and blue eyed man to make me lose my mind (maybe I’m a liar) #the bear fx #luca the bear #will poulter

[miley1442111]

tortured poets department masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fortnight (featuring finnick odair)

tortured poets department (featuring spencer reid)

my boy only breaks his favourite toys (featuring aaron hotchner)

down bad (featuring jj maybank)

so long, london (featuring robert 'bob' floyd)

but daddy i love him (featuring rafe cameron)

fresh out the slammer (featuring aaron hotchner)

flordia!!! (featuring bucky barnes)

guilty as sin? (featuring aaron hotchner)

who's afraid of little old me? (featuring spencer reid)

who's afraid of little old me? (featuring carmen berzatto)

i can fix him (no i really can)- (featuring carmen berzatto)

loml (featuring peter parker)

i can do it with a broken heart (featuring sydcarmy)

the smallest man that ever lived (featuring derek morgan)

the alchemy (featuring jake 'hangman' seresin)

clara bow (featuring emily prentiss)

the black dog (featuring spencer reid)

imgonnagetyouback (featuring bradley 'rooster' bradshaw)

the albatross (featuring steve rogers)

chloe or sam or sophie or marcus (featuring sydney adamu)

how did it end? (featuring aaron hotchner)

so high school (featuring spencer reid)

i hate it here (featuring luca from the bear)

thank you aiMee (featuring natasha 'phoneix' trace)

i look in people's windows (featuring robert 'bob' floyd)

the prophecy (featuring aaron hotchner)

cassandra (featuring rafe cameron)

peter (featuring pope heyward)

the bolter (featuring spencer reid)

robin (featuring carmen berzatto)

the maunscript (featuring bucky barnes)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #the bear fx #aaron hotchner #luca the bear #the bear #sydney adamu #syd adamu #carmy berzatto #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns imagine

[anundyingfidelity]

THE SCENE — Will Poulter x fem reader

Summary: you're in a romantic comedy with Will Poulter and kind of develop a small crush on him. After a hot make out scene, you can't stop thinking about him.

Pairing: Will Poulter x fem!reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, handjobs, couch sex, semi clothed sex, overstimulation, usual dirty language and dirty stuff.

Notes: Reader is around 38 (in my head) and Will is 30 because I fucking need some Will with an older woman and I need him in a romantic comedy so bad right now and this is me trying to fulfil my fantasy as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filthy shit. Anything is welcome.

>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Finally, he kissed you. But it wasn't just a simple kiss. It was a hungry, needy kiss. Something you longed for since you both met on set.

He pressed his body against yours, his big frame over you, his fingers caressing your cheek until he reached the skin of your neck. His touch made you ache, and he wasn't even down there, where you needed him the most.

As you gasped between kisses, his hands traveled down your hips, until he grabbed your ass, in a harshly way. His big palms squeezing your skin through the pencil skirt. Will broke the kiss, scanning your swollen lips and big eyes, before he pulled you up from the floor only to sit you on the kitchen island, and him now standing between your legs.

It was your turn to kiss him. You pulled him for a sloppy kiss as your lips crashed together again, inviting his tongue to taste your mouth. He started to take off the buttons of your blouse, leaving it open to see your covered breasts, and hungrily you invite his hands to feel your exposed skin. He touched, under your guidance, and felt the heat of your body against him.

Your hands then moved to his trousers, undoing them as fast as you can between kisses. Will pulled you closer, if that was even possible, pressing your bodies together. You grinded against him, and felt his increasing arousal. His growing erection wasn't something he could hide; and this made you crazy, for him and his touch.

His hips moved, thrusting into you, feeling your heat against his clothed crotch, and his lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin. It made you gasp and whimper softly, and you thought you'd come just by the friction your bodies were creating...

"Cut!"

The director's voice made you stop.

You almost forgot you were actually acting a heavy make out scene with Will Poulter.

"Are you okay?" you asked sweetly once you stopped, trying to keep it professional.

Will nodded and breathed out. "Yeah, are you alright?"

"I am," you smiled.

He helped you to get on your feet and the staff quickly came to fix yours and his clothing, while listening to the praising from your director and the crew on what you just did. The blonde, tall man blushed a little.

The film was a new romantic comedy, with you and Will on the lead. You played a prestigious boss of an important magazine and Will was the new, naive intern on the company. Will's character was younger than the your character and he fell for your character in an instant. So this scene was the peak of their relationship, where both finally give in to each other.

Unlike you, you fell for Will in real life.

Will's character was clumsy, cute, really kind and hardworking, exactly like him. He was shy when you met at first but as time went by you learned to enjoy each other's company and, in fact, you got along very well.

You sighed, finally this was your last scene for the day, so the crew and the director wrapped up everything, and you finished another long shift of filming. After the scene, you left the set saying thank you to everyone and smiling a lot more than you pretended to Will. God, you were so into him.

The crew took you to hair and make up to take off the clothes for the scene and clean your face. It was late at night, so after that, you went back to your hotel. The only thing on your mind was him. Him touching you, him kissing you, him adoring and worshiping your body in just a few minutes was driving you crazy.

Maybe it was just a mere coincidence, but once you waited for the elevator to arrive, Will appeared by your side. A shy smile on his lips. Your cheeks heated and your body ached, the images of his hands roaming your figure appeared on your head again.

"Almost over," Will said. "The filming, I mean..."

"Yeah, thankfully," you responded almost immediately.

The elevator doors opened. Will let you get in first and he followed behind. You were the only two people inside the elevator and in silence you arrived to your floor. It wasn't good that you were staying on the same floor, only a room apart. At least, not for you.

You started to walk away, with a smile, and suddenly felt like you had to do something. Anything to talk to him, to have him closer.

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink or something?" the question came out of your mouth without thinking twice, and it certainly caught Will out of guard, judging by the look on his face.

He was standing a couple feet away from you, ready to enter his room, but he stopped from doing so.

"That would be lovely," he said.

"Then, wanna come in?" you asked, playfuly, knowing he would follow.

Will chuckled and you let him in your room. It was a small suite, with a living room and a bedroom. The moment Will entered the place, he thought it had all your aura in it, a proper hotel room for a star like you. Someone whom he really admired a lot from afar, and you had no idea about it.

"Anything special you'd like?" you asked Will, after saying he could sit on the couch. You opened the fridge and his answer was a little weird for you.

"Water will do, thank you."

You glanced at him, your brows furrowed.

"Really, water's fine," his lips put on a pretty, shy look on his face. But you said nothing, grabbing a glass of water and if this was going to go his way, you took water for yourself too.

You offered him the glass and he gladly accepted it as you took yours and made yourself comfortable in the couch, leaving just a little space between both of you.

"I can't believe we're only a couple of days to finish here," Will broke the silence first. God, how much you loved hearing his voice.

"Me neither, hasn't been that long..." you replied. I wish it never ended, at least not yet, you thought.

Suddenly, Will called your name and it slipped from his mouth like the sweetest thing you've ever heard him say. He started to think perfectly his words. "Um I really enjoy working with you," he said. "And you're awesome, and I'm your fan- sorry if it's weird."

A wide smile was on your lips and you felt heat rising on your face. "I enjoy the time with you as well."

The chat went smoothly, with him praising your work and you did the same with Will. He respected you a lot since you were older than him and you had a prominent career he followed closely before. It was nice to have him in your place, alone, without the pressure of doing a perfect scene or your crew around. Even when the british man was just being sweet and making some jokes through your conversation, all you could think about was the heated scene you shared today. On the way his hands traveled down your skin, how his lips felt soft, and the way he was pressing your body to his... A new wave of silence filled the place as you finished your glass of water and placed it on the coffee table, his empty glass was already there.

"You know, I couldn't stop thinking about our scene today..."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" you asked, curious. You could swear you were closer to him now, your legs almost touching. A small blush appeared on his face at the way your eyes looked at him.

"Well, you're you," he mumbled. "And you're wonderful and beautiful..."

"Well, you're beautiful too, and I like you," you didn't mean to say those last words but it was done now. His eyes went wide. Well, now he knew. Will barely gasped and licked his lips. And you just wanted nothing more but kiss him. Now.

He remained quiet, so you decided to make your first move and slowly, you leaned in to kiss his lips. It was short but he closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm feeling. It started soft and delicate, until his hand tangled in your hair, playing with it gently. You whimpered in the middle of the kiss.

"God, you're so gorgeous," you breathed against his lips, taking in every inch and detail of his face. His plump lips and his darkening eyes filled with lust and his furrowed brows were everything you wanted to keep on your mind forever.

You moved until you finally were sitting on his lap, each leg on his sides, and kissed him, this time, you were impatient. Gladly, Will followed your pace, letting you guide him through it while your hips moved slowly, grinding against his crotch.

Will gasped against your mouth, his big hands went down on your sides smoothly. His erection was evident and he found himself not able to control the rolls of his hips, your core already aching and dripping for him. Your small moans were swallowed by his mouth and you continued with the friction your now heated bodies created.

Suddenly, you broke the kiss to get some air and studied the look on his face. It was pure lust. Just exactly how you felt.

"Why you accepted my invitation if you wanted just water?"

"I wanted to be with you," he answered, biting his lip.

"Well, then undress me."

And he did as you ordered. You got on your feet and Will took off your blouse and your pants swiftly but gently at the same time, your bra ended up somewhere on the carpeted floor along with your panties. Finally exposed, you climbed on top of him again with such confidence, that his blue eyes wandered in every inch of your skin. He thought you were perfect like this.

Taking his hand you guided him to your core. And how wet you were by now. He rubbed your folds and your clit, as he left soft butterfly kisses on your neck, inhaling your scent. Your skin was heating and your heart racing. And his touch felt like heaven. His fingers teased your slit and you rocked your hips to feel him where you needed the most.

You didn't care he was still fully clothed, all that mattered was his digits playing with your cunt and his other hand running from your leg to one of your breasts to squeeze your flesh gently. Quickly, you found his belt and undid his trousers. Will breathed against the crook of your neck as your hand ghosted over his now tight boxers, throbing for you. You moaned as one of his long digits entered you, your spine curled. The feeling of getting stretched and ready was too much, and his agonizing slow rhythm made your body ask for more.

The heat between your legs ached and you met the thrusts of his hand rolling your hips, your hand palming him hardly through the fabric while he increased the pace of his finger, adding a second one soon enough. Will used his other hand to hold your waist, fucking your pussy with his fingers, clearly saying he wanted to guide the flow of what you were starting.

"Oh, Will, please," you whimpered, and leaned down to kiss him, eager. Your hands released his cock from his boxers and your palm worked on his hard dick, using the precum of his tip to create friction. Once you pulled away from the kiss you met with his flushed face, scrunched eyes, licking his lips with his tongue... he looked so pretty like that, under your touch and the small control you gathered before was back.

So you continued pumping him, the living room of your suite now was filled with the obscene noises of your pussy as his fingers thrusted into you and your hand pumping him. His eyes opened slowly and met your dark gaze, Will did not stop fucking your cunt, until you grabbed his wrist with your hand, his hard cock now free from your palm. He pulled out his fingers, glistening because of your juices and you took them in your mouth, tasting yourself. His muscles tighten, he felt like he would cum right there just by the licks of your tongue on his fingers, until you cleaned them good.

"I felt you getting hard today..."

You started to take off the buttons of his dress shirt, exposing a little of his well-built chest, hands ghosting over his soft skin.

"I- I couldn't help it," Will gasped, his big hands grabbing your sides.

You smirked. "I know."

And with those words, you sinked down on his cock, your walls pulsed around him as he filled you little by little, until the curve of your ass met the fabric of his trousers under your bare flesh. He let out a low moan and your pussy clenched around him. You were more than ready to take him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, hypnotized on how good you felt.

So you ride him, holding yourself on his shoulders, with his hands gripping your hips, and you feel his dick deeply every time you sink down again into him, your tits bouncing, and both your moans and his groans mix together. And you realized then that you're finally connected, just as how you fantasized, exactly how you used to dream wide awake.

You realize you're riding him, fully naked, on the couch of your suite, while he was almost dressed. And you loved it. You loved the way he let you fuck yourself on him, and how his big and strong hands remained on your skin, how his fingers moved to cup your breasts. He felt like heaven.

A familiar sensation starts building down your belly, and your walls squeeze his cock as you bounce repeatedly. So close. So fucking close to the sweet end. Your body was desperate to reach the edge and release the tension you had saved for so long, just to have this moment with him. His grip grew rough on your hips, but Will remained still, and you knew it was taking a huge amount of self-control to buck his hips and thrust into you.

And finally, you exploded cursing under your breath, leaning your forehead against his. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips, your pussy clenching around his shaft, but you took a while to slow down and you held tightly on him. The wetness of your cunt sliding down your inner thighs.

"Fuck me," you gasped, still riding out your orgasm. "Fuck me like this until you cum."

And without a word, he did. His hard grip made you remain still, his hips rocking at a brutal pace, you were still sensitive from your orgasm, but it truly didn't care. He was already twitching inside of you and your whole body trembled. Your fingers tangled on his blonde, soft curls, while biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Will was so close to his own peak, his thrusts became erractic and breathy moans left his lips. You were also sure his grip would leave marks on your body, but that was more than okay. It would be perfect to remember how good he was making you feel and how hard he made you cum... Everything was more than perfect and every thrust made you crazy, aching for more of him and how deep he felt inside of your spasming walls...

With a last powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside you, spilling his seed deep inside of your cunt with a shattered breath against the crook of your neck. You just wished to stay like this forever, with him moving you on top of him gently, milking every drop of him.

Your body felt weak, but you smiled, panting and moving to see his beautiful sweaty face. He was completely spent, as much as you were. His hands caressed your thighs in a gentle way, and you pecked his nose, tasting the salty sweat running down his skin.

"This was so good," you mumbled.

"You feel good," Will answered, now he kissed your lips. "You feel better than I ever thought..."

You chuckled. "So you also imagined something before."

"A lot, in fact," he nodded, smiling and kissing your cheek, lips tracing the features on your face.

"Mind sharing some of them later? Maybe in the shower?" you suggested.

"Darling, you don't even have to ask."

The sweetness of his deep voice and the dark meaning of his words sent shivers down your spine. This was going to be a long night.

#will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter x female reader #will poulter x you #will poulter imagines #adam warlock x reader #will poulter imagine #the bear #will poulter fanfiction #luca the bear

[kdogreads]

You’re My Peace

Chef Luca x f!reader

TW: angsty Luca (before his Carmy epiphany), hurt/comfort-ish, cursing, established relationship

AN: I just love him 🥹 lmk what else reader x Luca should get up to! Thank you for reading 🫶

You weren’t sure what time it was when you finally heard the front door to your apartment open. You’d been in bed for an hour or two, but you couldn’t sleep without Luca softly snoring next to you, looking like your own personal Adonis even in his sleep.

He started rustling around in the kitchen as soon as the door shut, so you decided you’d get up and see what he was doing. Plus, you needed to know why he wasn’t coming to bed.

“Baby, what’s going on?” You ask groggily, startled that every light was on in the kitchen in the middle of the night, “Are you alright?”

“Sorry, my love, didn’t mean to wake you,” He stepped over to you and pecked a soft kiss into your forehead before turning back to the counter.

You stood in silence a moment, trying to make sense of all the utensils and plates Luca was pulling out of the cabinets at 1:30 — no, 1:33, you noticed — in the morning. He’d already been gone all day at school, putting in hours more than required.

“Baby,” You sighed and closed the gap between you, gently grabbing his face and making him look down at you, “Can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow? You have to be tired, Lu.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, leaning over you so his lungs filled with the scent of your coconut shampoo. His lips pressed into the top of your head for a moment before he started to speak.

“I’ll be 10 minutes, love, I promise,” He kissed your forehead again, “Then I’ll come to bed.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, “Jesus, Luca, come on.”

You stepped back as his hands began reaching for the spice cabinet. He shot you an apologetic look before he started grabbing things off the shelf.

“I know, baby, it’s just that Carmy, ah, the bloke I’ve been telling you about-,” He rambled as you searched for any more patience left in your body, “-yeah, he made this, uh, this dish today and I’ve almost got it down—.”

His voice trailed off as he kept opening cabinets and drawers, pulling more spoons and bowls and testing your resilience all the while.

“Luca, please, it’s late—,” You started.

“Really, love, just 10 more minutes.”

“Luca—,” He kept moving, clearly not sensing your impending implosion.

“Baby, come on,” You tried one last time before you couldn’t keep your volume down anymore, “Luca!”

He instantly dropped the wooden spoon in his hand, turning his full attention to you. He never raised his voice at you, and you’d never yelled at him.

“Please, baby, listen to me,” You started softly, stroking his broad shoulders with a gentle touch, “You know how much I want this for you, and I love you so damn much for your dedication, but I need you to be here when you are here.”

Luca let out a shaky breath, his warm hands reaching up to cup your face tenderly. His slender fingers reached into your hair and pulled you up towards him, pressing his lips into yours in a slow, languid kiss.

He leaned back slightly, far enough to slide his right hand down to his chest, clutching it into a fist and circling his heart. I’m sorry.

You mirrored his motions, dropping your hand down to circle your own heart with a bit more fervor. I’m sorry, too.

You held each other’s gaze for a long moment until Luca closed his eyes and leaned his head into your shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist and pulled you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Your own arms drifted around his just as tight. One hand was tangled in his messy curls while the other drew pictures absentmindedly onto his back.

“I just thought I could be the best, thought I was the best,” Luca spoke into your neck, his muscles relaxing as your hands danced over them, “And realizing I’m not, that I never can be, it’s just—.”

“A lot,” You finish for him, helping him not have to think.

“A lot,” He mirrors.

“Hey,” You gently pull his face up to meet your soft gaze, “You don’t have to be the best to be really damn good.”

The corners of his mouth twitch up slightly, almost in a smile, “I know that now. I think I just had to— I don’t know, make peace with that.”

You send him a knowing smile as his lips drift to meet yours again, a little deeper this time.

“Plus,” You begin, “If anyone is going to out-chef you, Chef, it has to be Carmy. He’s like, from another planet or something.”

Luca huffs out a laugh and your heart immediately feels lighter.

“Carm is really good,” Luca chuckles, “He’s got something special.”

“Just as special as you have, Lu.”

He kisses you like he’s trying to pour all of his love into you in just this moment. Your mind swirls as his lips leave yours, batting your eyes open to clear your head.

You placed a peck on his firm shoulder and step away to head back to bed. It’s only a few seconds of clanging until Luca is closing your bedroom door behind him.

“Dishes’ll be there tomorrow,” He mumbles as he climbs into bed, his weight practically collapsing into the plush surface.

You slid into place beside him, one leg tangled over his as his strong arms pull you into his chest. Luca’s warm hands sent a shiver up your spine.

“I should’ve just talked to you, my love. I’m sorry,” Luca stroked his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Heard, Chef,” You smirked but meant it just the same, “Can’t scare me off that easy.”

Luca smiled and tucked you into his chest, wanting to hold you as close as he could. His heart beat evened out as he felt your own, strong and steady, drawing him out of his anxiety.

You ran your fingertips of Luca’s toned back as he pressed gentle kisses into your cheek and neck. The two of you shared a comfortable, warm silence for a moment before a thought popped into Luca’s head.

“I thought I had to make my own peace,” He pulled away from you so he could see your face, “But I think you are my peace, love. You are always the answer.”

Your eyes prickled with tears, seeing the truth and adoration in Luca’s gaze. He’s saying all this while you’re trying to figure out how he thinks he’s the lucky one.

You wrack your brain for the right words, but all that comes out is, “I love you so fucking much, Lu.”

Luca stared down at you lovingly, planting needy kisses onto your lips.

“I love you just the same, my peace.”

————

It wasn’t more than a month before a delicate peace dove tattoo showed up on Luca’s forearm. Followed closely by a framed portrait of he and Carmy on the wall in your kitchen.

“Both sent me to war,” He teased when you questioned the timing, “But both brought me peace.”

#luca the bear #luca x reader #chef luca x reader #chef luca #the bear hulu #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #kdogreads

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

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

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

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

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sydney says, “give it time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

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

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

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

He nods.

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t clueless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

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

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

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

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

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

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

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

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

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

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

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

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

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

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

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

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

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watching you prep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is a sight to see.

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

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

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

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

“The hell is this place?”

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

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

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

“What looks good?”

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

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

“Sounds good...I guess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not really my problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sydney.

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

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

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

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

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

Communication was important people!

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

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

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

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

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I saw you—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

If you believe in that shit.

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

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

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

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

“What’s funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the rating?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet.”

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

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

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

“I said that?”

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

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

Someone just had to look hard enough.

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

“What do you want?”

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

“You swore off love.”

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

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

Maybe.

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

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

“How’d—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

#Spotify #queued #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear s3 #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x black reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #natalie berzatto #richie jerimovich #michael berzatto #marcus the bear #luca the bear #february prompts #february fluff #neil fak #jeremy allen white