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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter two: friday

summary: big announcements are made at the james beard house dinner, and carmy tells you how much you mean to him.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking

word count: 4.6k

listen to: in transit - albert hammond jr. | nightswimming - r.e.m | friday i'm in love (cover) - phoebe bridgers (playlist here)

a/n: remember when i accidentally posted this earlier today at the start of the american work day? that was weird. anyways...

read: chapter one | bonus smut scene

Friday

The way that the four of you flow together is like a symphony – each one of you so committed to your craft – to excellence – and the feeling you get sends chills down your spine. It’s a sign of how far you all have come, which is what the menu is all about this evening. It was Syd and Carmy’s idea: each dish presented this evening would embody a part of The Bear’s story. You’d even worked with Marcus on elevating his signature chocolate cake, wanting to keep the heart and soul of it, even if it had to lean a little more towards the fine dining side of things.

Never in a million years would Carmy have thought that, on his first day at The Beef, that you’d all end up here. After all the chaos, all the swimming upstream, it felt near-impossible that something so disorganized and broken could become something so beautiful.

He’s near-shaking at the idea of what he has to do next, but he also knows that this is a story he has to tell. It’s not really something he’s spoken about – at least publicly – and not to the food world.

But he can’t tell the story of The Bear without Michael.

He feels like he’s sweating through his chef whites, but you remind him that he’s going to be great. It’s a huge step in his healing journey and after a long talk about it, Carmy had decided it was something he felt he wanted to do.

“Before we wrap up the evening, we have one more dish before dessert,” Carmy says, earning the attention of the dining room full of people.

He hopes his voice isn’t shaking too much, and he nervously fidgets with a spoon he’s holding in his hands while you and Sydney stand behind him as literal and emotional support.

His face feels hot. He feels like he wants to throw up and cry at the same time, and he looks back at you for reassurance.

You nod your head in his direction, a comforting smile on your face, as Sydney grabs your hand. You’re both nervous for him.

You can do it, Bear. Let it rip.

“As some of you may know, three years ago I left New York to go back home and take over the family restaurant – the restaurant that would eventually become The Bear,” he explains.

“This dish is uh… it’s really special to me,” he says, trying his best not to let his voice break as he continues.

“It’s an ode to my late brother: a play on the braciole he used to make for me and my sister every Sunday.”

The dining room gets quiet, each person hanging onto every single word that Carmy says, his vulnerability palpable.

Carmy suddenly feels emotionally exposed, but he knows there’s no turning back now. He can practically hear Mikey’s voice in his head, encouraging him, pushing him to let it rip. Knowing that he’s got you and Sydney behind him gives Carmy the extra boost of confidence he needs to get through this speech.

As he explains each component of the dish, it becomes easier to fake it: fake some confidence, fake that he’s not crumbling inside. Carmy knows how to talk about food so he leans into it, even if it feels like his voice is caught in his throat. It feels like second nature -- like falling into an old pattern he's practiced a thousand times -- as he hides behind his tough, calculating, diligent exterior. But he feels as if he’s just put his open, bleeding heart on a plate, and it's impossible for him not to feel.

Carmy clears his throat before concluding his presentation with, “So thank you again for dining with us this evening. Uh… Chef Sydney has some news she’d uh… we’d like to share with everyone.”

He thanks the gods that he made it through.

He can’t wait to get out of the spotlight.

Carmy moves aside, letting Sydney take center stage, and he can feel the blood rush through his head – an almost dizzy-feeling. As he stands next to you, you bump up against his shoulder, giving him some comforting touch, in an effort to ground him.

“Thank you, chef,” Sydney begins, glancing back at Carmy. “And thank you for sharing this dish with us. I know that it’s something you hold close to your heart and our story of The Bear wouldn’t be complete without it.”

The dining room full of people begins clapping once again and it gives Carmy a moment to zip himself back up emotionally. He only reminds himself that he has a few moments left of being in front of people. While he may be an expert at fooling everyone else with his stoic exterior, you can see he’s struggling to hold it together.

“And thank you again to everyone for coming out tonight. We have some really exciting news to share. After putting our heart and soul into The Bear, we are at a point in its journey where we can expand,” Sydney begins, earning a few excited whispers from the room.

“We felt tonight would be the perfect time to announce that we will be opening up a second restaurant – a separate concept that I will be leading as CDC in Chicago. I’m really excited to have this opportunity to develop my own concept with my business partner, Carmen Berzatto, and to lead my own kitchen.”

The entire room erupts with applause once again as the wait staff begin to bring out Carmy’s perfectly plated beef dish. Carmy nods as a signal to you and Syd and you both follow him back into the kitchen.

“Stay. I’ll go help Marcus,” Sydney says to you, reassuringly.

She rubs a sympathetic hand over Carmy’s upper back before saying, “Good work, chef.”

Sydney hurries over into the prep kitchen to help Marcus plate dessert, while you hang back with Carmy in the hallway. He’s avoiding your gaze and you can tell he’s trying his best not to lose it right then and there. His body is still – frozen in a moment of time. There’s a tension that runs across his chest and into his shoulders that hadn’t been there at the start of the night. He looks like he hasn’t taken a breath since his speech began either.

“That was really beautiful, Bear,” you say softly. He still won’t look at you, but you understand why.

“Thanks,” he nods curtly.

There’s a silent tension between the two of you and you know what you need to do next.

“What do you need?” you ask.

“Think I uh-, just need a little fresh air,” he mumbles, his voice breaking a little, before clearing his throat again.

“‘Course. Marcus, Syd and I have got this,” you encourage him.

You wait as Carmy slips out back for a break, before making your way back into the kitchen. Loving Carmy through his grief sometimes looked different. Some days he’d need space. Other times he’d need you – crawling into your arms and allowing you to care for him. Together, you’ve had to learn how to ask, and he’s had to learn how to tell you what he needs.

“How’s Carmy?” Sydney asks with a concerned look on her face, causing Marcus to look up from the plate he’s working on.

“He’s okay. Just needs a break,” you answer. You’re not worried about him. You know how painful that was for Carmy, and you’re more than happy to give him the space he needs to sit with it.

“What can I do?”

And then Marcus is handing you a few extra plates, asking you to double check his previous count to ensure that every single plate went out in a timely manner.

Carmy returns about ten minutes later, ready to jump back in. He’d just needed a timeout – a moment to feel the enormous swell of emotions that had come up when talking about Michael to a dining room of eighty people. Soon enough, he’s helping plate the tiny chocolate layer cakes, with an olive oil ice cream, and a tahini caramel drizzled over the top.

Dessert is the last dish to be brought out, and as Marcus presents, the four of you receive a standing ovation at the James Beard House. It’s like for the first time in a week, Carmy can breathe again. He feels like a one hundred pound weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, and his heart swells with pride over how the night’s gone. Everyone’s liked the food, you all have worked so beautifully as a team this evening, and he can’t believe he got through his fucking speech without crying in front of everyone.

Entirely exhausted yet filled with a grand sense of accomplishment, the four of you drag yourselves out of the James Beard House and back out onto the streets of NYC. You’re not sure who suggests it, but you’re grateful the idea has been brought up as you’re carrying pizzas you picked up on the way back to the hotel. Piled onto the two full beds in Marcus and Sydney’s room, the four of you can finally celebrate a job well done.

“Yo, I think I like the Sicilian slice better,” Marcus says, polishing off another piece of the pepperoni and mushroom.

“Oof,” Carmy sounds, watching your face for your reaction. “You’re playing with fire, Marcus.”

Sydney snorts, “Fuck. We’re finally able to relax. No one kill each other, please.”

“What? We’ve already had the Chicago vs New York pizza debate,” Marcus says, throwing up his hands as if he’s innocent. I know what I’m getting myself into! I’m just sayin’ the Scilian slice is giving mad Chicago vibes and it’s dope.”

You laugh, shaking your head, while Carmy playfully nudges you.

“Okay, while pepperoni and mushroom is a classic and you know I have mad respect that, as a New Yorker… hard disagree on your style of pizza, chef,” you say back, starting on a new slice of one of the remaining NY Style pies.

“You know what’s fucking fire? Pepperoni and jalapenos – pickled, not fresh,” Sydney chimes in and you all reply in a chorus of agreement.

“Hundred percent,” Carmy says.

“Never fresh. The sour tangy brine is key,” you add. “At least we can all agree on something.

“You know what’s fucking wild?” Marcus begins, looking across the three of you. “We made this whole fancy ass meal, yet we’re eating pizza in a hotel room at the end of the night.”

Carmy laughs dryly, “Yeah, man. It’s kinda par for the course.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Seriously!” Sydney exclaims.

“Speaking of, how was your stage at per se?” you inquire, curious to hear about his experience in the fine dining kitchen. “We barely had time to catch up this morning about it.”

Truthfully, you’d all been so focused on tonight going well that no one had really talked about it.

“Man,” Marcus sighs. “It was cool. But like. Now I know what you guys are talking about when you say a chef only let you zest lemons for three months.”

You laugh in response, thinking back to the time blood orange juice caused you an existential crisis. That existential crisis – the one that led you to quitting your job, leaving fine dining behind for good.

“And it’s like… the whole staff works as a machine. Kitchen’s more like a science lab than a kitchen. I got lucky, huh?” Marcus continues and Carmy shakes his head.

“Yeah, per se’s a lot like where we used to work,” Carmy says with a shrug.

“Should’ve seen Alinea. It’s very… science lab meets art school,” Sydney adds. “Inspiring… but cold.”

“Damn,” Marcus shakes his head, feeling luckier than ever that he got to learn from the three of you instead.

“Wait. Syd, how was your supper club?” you ask, suddenly remembering that she hadn’t had a chance to tell any of you yet. She had, after all, gotten home late last night, only to get up early to go with Carmy to Chelsea Market.

“Oh my god,” she gloats. “So fucking cool. Like unreal. You guys have to come with me next time.”

“I uh-,” she starts again, as if she has a secret. “They actually asked me to come back and do a pop-up dinner, especially with the new restaurant opening. I mean, they want to do a collab with me!”

“Okay, I see you,” Marcus calls out, proud of his friend.

“Of course they do!” you cheer her on.

“What do you think, chef?” she asks Carmy, searching for approval in the way his face changes as he hears the news.

“I think… you’d be silly not to. We’ll work out a time for you to come back up here once we get the new restaurant up and running,” Carmy reassures, respect and pride in his eyes as he exchanges a look with Sydney.

“And of course, I want you guys back here with me. Like… are we the fuckin’ dream team, or are we the fuckin’ dream team?” Sydney celebrates, reliving the memories of this evening.

Tonight has been so incredible and Sydney wonders if this is what it feels like to be at the top of your career. She wants to savor the moments of this weekend, replaying them over and over again in her head.

“Oh 100%,” Marcus confirms with confidence.

“Absolutely,” you promise.

A temporary quiet settles between the four of you as you reflect on the evening. Carmy is quiet again, caught up in his head as he’s filled with a deep sense of gratitude: for all of your hard work, for how well the evening went, for his team.

You all are his people.

And he’s never had people before.

Not until now.

“Thank you guys. For tonight,” he says, his tone serious. “You guys were rockstars, and... I couldn’t have done it – any of this – without you.”

“Aw, Carmy,” Sydney smiles, savoring this rare tender moment with Carmy.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Marcus reinforces.

“Of course,” you smile proudly.

You each take a moment to feel it all: accomplishment, the gratitude, the love and genuine respect you all have for each other.

“Not to ruin the moment or anything,” you begin, half apologetically. “If anyone’s up for more fun food debates tomorrow, Carmy and I have a fun little tradition I’d love to share you guys.”

You and Carmy exchange glances and it’s as if he can read your mind.

“Walking dumpling tour?” he questions.

You confirm with a nod.

“What’s the-?” Marcus begins to ask as Sydney finishes his question with, “... the walking dumpling tour?”

“A fun little thing we used to when we still lived here,” you reply. “Hit up as many dumpling spots as we can in search of the best pork dumplings that Chinatown can offer. Hell, I’ll make up a scorecard and we can rate them.”

“Sounds fun. I’m in,” Marcus says.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Sydney agrees.

Carmy checks the time on his phone.

“Yo, it’s getting pretty late. We should probably head to bed,” Carmy says to you.

“Oh shit. It’s almost midnight?” Sydney asks, seeing the time on the hotel room clock.

“Yeah. Guys, this has been fun. Seriously, great work tonight. I’ve missed this so much,” you sigh, totally satiated.

“You know there’s always room for you at The Bear,” Marcus says genuinely, before adding, in a more teasing tone, “You can send me your resume and I’ll take a look. Nah I’m just playin’!”

You laugh, playfully rolling your eyes, “Okay, it is definitely bed time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, goodnight you guys,” Marcus replies.

“Goodnight.”

As you and Carmy leave Sydney and Marcus’ room, it dawns on you that you’re not quite ready to go to bed. While you’re exhausted, and should be in a carb-induced sleepy pizza-coma, you’re wired from the adrenaline of being back in the kitchen.

“Hey, Carm?” you ask, stopping him as he fumbles with the room key.

“What’s up?” he asks back.

You pause for a moment, and as you speak, there’s a certain hesitance in your voice, like it’s the first time you’re asking someone out on a date.

“Do you want a drink?”

He’s caught off guard by your tone of voice, curious to know where this is going.

“Now?” he asks back with a half-smile plastered to his face.

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I-, I don’t know if I’m ready to go to bed yet.”

You can see the hesitation on his face as he thinks it through. While Carmy knows there are plenty of bars still open in NYC right now, he’s not sure he wants to leave the hotel.

And neither do you.

You offer your hand to him, “C’mon. I’ve got an idea.”

“I don’t know if we’re supposed to be here,” Carmy states nervously, looking around the empty room.

He’s bouncing his knee up and down as he sits on a bar stool, alternating between watching you behind the bar, and looking around to check for anyone who may catch you. The bar itself is poorly lit, save for the pool lights outside, that come flooding in through the large floor to ceiling windows.

“We’re not,” you reply, without a care in the world.

He lowers his voice before asking, “What if we get caught?”

You giggle, “You are such a baby, Carmen.”

He rolls his eyes as you search for what you need, pouring the appropriate combination of liquors into an old fashioned glass.

Gin. Campari. Vermouth

After stirring them together over ice, you reach for an orange and y-peeler that the bar is stocked with, shaving off a piece of the orange peel.

“Besides, isn’t that the fun part?” you ask, a glimmer of mischief flashing across your face.

Carmy shakes his head, averting his eyes as he brings his hand up to his mouth, “You’re a bad influence on me.”

You snort in response and it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“And you love it, my little rule-follower.”

“Relax, Carm. I’m gonna leave $40 behind the bar for what we took and we can go back to the room when I’m done if you’re so worried about it,” you offer as a compromise, the tone of your voice still a rebellious one.

He has to admit that he finds your devil may care attitude incredibly sexy. Carmy’s not sure whether he’s anxious or turned on right now.

“Yes chef,” he finally agrees, cheekily.

“Lighter, please,” you request.

Carmy pulls his lighter from his pocket, tossing it to you. You catch it, immediately flicking it on, using the flame to torch the orange slice.

Just a spritz of the orange, and then the rest of the peel for garnish.

You hand Carmy the drink from across the bar, before working on your second one.

He looks down at the deep red colored liquid before saying, “Sweetheart, you know I hate gin.”

But you’re one step ahead of him.

Only moments later, you’re stepping around the bar with a second glass of whiskey on the rocks prepared for him. You trade glasses with him, and he can’t take his eyes off of you as you finally say:

“Cheers.”

Clink.

“Cheers.”

You both take your respective first sips, making sure to hold eye contact with him as you do. He looks at you, and you’re not sure if he’s more surprised that you haven’t gotten caught or that he’s willfully watched you break into the hotel pool bar.

“Thought you said we could take these back to the room,” he challenges.

You smirk, even though your heart is filled with pure adoration for the man standing across from you.

“Yes, chef.”

It’s an easy choice to take your drinks back to the room, opening the french doors that lead to the terrace. You pull a spare blanket from the hotel room closet, curling up with it outside. You drape the blanket over both you and Carmy as you settle down on his lap. He’s brought his lighter and a cigarette out with you, so you close the french doors behind you so that he can light one up.

You haven’t stayed up this late with Carmy in a while. It feels good – spontaneous and a little rebellious – like anything could happen at any given moment. New York City always seems to bring this side out in you.

It’s home.

But Carmy is also your home.

Having the two of them here all at once is an indescribable feeling. You enjoy the bitter taste of your negroni, the cool spring air kissing your skin as you sit on your boyfriend’s lap. Carmy enjoys his cigarette, his whiskey sitting on the patio table in front of the two of you, as he exhales the smoke away from you.

“Does being back here feel… I don’t know. Weird to you?” Carmy asks, breaking the quiet between the two of you.

It’s like he can read your mind, again.

“Yeah,” you answer. “But it’s a good weird. I think maybe because we have all these memories here, you know?”

He takes another drag off the cigarette and it’s your turn to ask him a question.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t spilled your drink on me that night. You think we still would’ve become friends?”

He’s quiet for a moment as he thinks about it.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, answering honestly.

You let out a small laugh.

“Hell of a way to get a girl’s attention.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Bullshit.”

He’s telling the truth – sort of. He hadn’t been trying to get your attention, though he had spent most of the night racking his brain for any kind of conversation starter – get out of his own fuckin’ head. But he’d spent most of the night overthinking and coming up with reasons not to. He had sort of been your boss back then, after all.

He waits a beat before admitting, “And maybe the only way I would’ve even talked to you that night.”

You hum in response, taking another sip of your negroni.

“Even then I thought I’d fully fuckin’ blown it.”

“You didn’t,” you say, shaking your head.

“Uh… yeah I did,” he smiles, shooting you a ‘c’mon’ kind of look. “The first time you ever actually talked to me and… you’re fuckin’ furious. I was terrified.”

You can remember your first real conversation with Carmy fondly – even if it hadn’t been the fondest experience at the time.

“Baby, you ruined my shirt!” you exclaim with a laugh. “I had every right to be mad at you.”

“I wasn’t sure I’d see another day after that,” Carmy recalls, shaking his head.

“Also. Who drinks a soda the night they get the biggest promotion of their career?” you add, referring to the coke he’d spilled all over you the night he’d gotten promoted to CDC.

“Pop,” he corrects you. “... is a perfectly normal thing to drink at a bar.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s not. But I love you anyway.”

The staff of the restaurant had wanted to go out and celebrate Carmy’s new position, only Carmy hadn’t seemed like he was in much of a mood for celebrating as he’d refused shots all night. He’d been so nervous to talk to you all night, the recently hired pastry chef, and you’d assumed he hated you considering his cold and stoic demeanor at work seemed to translate to you outside of it as well. He thought for sure he’d blown any chance of getting to talk to you that night, when you accidentally bumped into him and he’d spilled his soda all over you. Your shirt was soaked through, and your friends had rushed in with a spare t-shirt for you to change into. You’d come to find days later that it was Carmy’s shirt that he’d had in his bag.

That soda – and his chivalry that evening – had set it all in motion.

“After all that, think we’d be here?” he asks, his eyes more like a sad, sweet puppy than ever before.

“No,” you answer honestly with a half smile. “But once I got to know you, I hoped maybe we could get here.”

He sighs, searching for the right words to tell you how he feels. The love you have together is more than he ever thought was possible for himself, and being back here with you has brought up so many memories of not feeling like enough.

“It kinda feels…” he begins to say, choosing his words carefully. He wants to get it right. “...like. I don’t know. Kinda like we’re going backwards and forwards at the exact same time, you know?”

You take another sip of your drink, processing what he’s said. He’s nailed it and you just need a moment to sit with his words.

“Yeah,” you sigh, like he’s finally named that thing you hadn’t been able to. “Like our past and our present are colliding or something.”

Carmy nods in agreement, “Yeah.”

You sit together in your comfortable quiet, listening to the sounds of the city below you: sirens, car horns, music from the bodega across the street.

“I don’t know if I ever told you… how much your friendship meant to me back then. I wasn’t… well, I wasn’t in a great place,” Carmy admits, his eyes piercing and honest with his words. There’s a sadness to him and you wonder if this has been weighing on him over the last few days on top of everything else.

“I know, sweetheart,” you reply empathetically.

“I know we’ve talked about…” he trails off, searching for what he wants to say. “... how much we mean to each other now. But you meant so much to me back then too. I don’t-, I don’t know if I ever told you.”

“Carmy,” you say, your heart swelling with love for the sad mess of a man whose arms you’re wrapped up in. “You didn’t need to. I-, I knew because… because you meant so much to me back then too.”

He pauses, wondering if he should keep going, and coming to the conclusion that he wants to – not for your sake, but for his.

Because he wants to tell you.

“When we met… I wasn’t… planning on letting anyone in,” he continues.

“Hmmm, didn’t notice,” you joke with him.

He gives your hips a squeeze, causing you to giggle as you snuggle a little closer to him, hugging the blanket around the both of you.

“I thought for sure I didn’t need anyone. Sure as hell didn’t want anyone. Had gone so long without someone to-. It just didn’t make sense for me anymore.”

You listen quietly, wanting him to give him the space to say what he needs to say.

“You know, my sister used to say, she used to tell me that one day I’d wake up and I’d need someone. Someone other than Mikey and his friends – the kids I grew up with. And I didn’t believe her. And then he cut me out and-. And I got really fuckin’ good at it. At the food. At being alone….”

And then you came along.

“But you didn’t push me… you didn’t ask me to be anyone that I-. You just… let me be me… even if I didn’t give you much to work with at first. I think… Sugar was right. I needed a friend back then… and you were always a friend. Are always… It’s why I love you.”

You’re grinning, and you’re also so, so proud of him – how far he’s come – to be able to tell you all of this.

You lean over to set your drink down on the patio table. You only have one thing to say him, as you hold his head between both of your hands:

“I’m so in love with you, Bear.”

read: chapter three

a/n: the above first conversation/meeting that carmy x reader talk about WILL be written for my 'make my heart surrender' prequel everyone buckle up for the will-they-won't-they bc we all know THEY WILL

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender #still into you

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sohin-ace · 3 years

Text

Dio - Drive

What a horrible day.

You walked, your shoulders and legs heavy with exhaustion. It was barely the middle of the week and you were already wanting to give up. Maybe you shouldn't have taken such a stressful job in the capital in the first place.

You only wished for one reason, one that would push you to flee this life. Just one event, anything to take you out of that grey routine. Something that would prompt you to give everything up. Anything, even if it was painful, or scary.

Just one sign, one occurrence. Anything.

"Young lady."

You lazily glanced behind you at the deep voice seemingly calling out to you. It was an insanely tall and strongly built blonde man. Surely, those kinds of men were nothing common, especially in Egypt and you couldn't help but flinch the slightest bit at his imposing appearance.

"Yes...?" You tried hesitantly, trying your best to not sound rude. "Did you call me?"

With a small smirk, he slowly approached you, his red cloak gracefully following his movements. He seemed to grow bigger by the second, towering over your smaller frame. You gulped and observed him. Hopefully he just looked scary, but was harmless, like most big men.

"This car... I couldn't help but notice it react as you came closer to it." He observed, near impressed. "Is it perhaps yours?"

Your brows furrowed slightly. What a strange speech he had. Could he not just say he saw you unlock it? You brushed it off as a foreigner-type incidence. He sure didn't look like he was from the area anyways.

"Uhm, it is! Did something happen? Are you okay?" His question put you off slightly and it dawned on you that maybe he asked because something may have happened to your vehicle. You subconsciously scanned your car, checking for any trace of an accident.

You sure hoped he didn't ram into your car or anything, that would just be the icing on the cake after such a horrid and stressful day.

You didn't want to bother filing obnoxious paperwork, but most importantly, you hoped the man was okay and not hurt in any way.

Well he seemed fine, but you knew how crazy people could be in the capital, going bonkers over the smallest accident, claiming they were hurt to the point of being hospitalized even though they barely scraped themselves just to grind that sweet insurance money.

"Excellent. Get in." The man ordered dryly, his smirk not faltering as he got a bit too close to you for comfort.

Your breath hitched as your attention dropped to him and him only, your thoughts suddenly empty. "E-excuse me?!"

His expression fell. His patience was running low. Boy, were you the uncooperative type.

Dio, as it was his name, forcefully grabbed your arm and you yelped in fright, his clawed and huge hand bruising your already tired and much weaker arm.

"Wh-what are you doing??! Let me go!!! LET ME GO!!!" You screamed in sheer panick and thrashed around, trying to get the frightening man away from you. What the hell was wrong with him?

Fortunately for you, the city of Cairo was bustling at this hour of the evening and the commotion was not getting unnoticed by the many men and women walking by.

"Hey! You! What do you think you're doing to this woman?!" Some man intervened and scolded after Dio, sympathetic of your poor situation and unable to stay indifferent to you being manhandled. "Let go of her, man!"

Of course, Dio paid no mind to this man's useless barking, until he felt his own arm getting grabbed forcefully. How utterly troublesome.

"HEY! I'm talking to you, you bastard!"

"... Unhand me this instant if you care for yourself." The vampire threatened with an unfazed yet icy voice. Shivers of dread coursed through you.

"Huh?! Say that again you asshole? Listen, I don't like sick perverts like you so you bette-AAAARRGHHHH!!!!!!"

In an instant that your eyes couldn't catch, the man's arm that was grabbing the causasian in front of you suddenly went rolling onto the concrete road, completely detached from the rest of his body, blood gushing everywhere onto him as he fell to his knees and cried for dear life.

"UAAAAAAAAARRGHHHHH!!! MY ARM!!! MY ARRMM!!!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

You gasped in horror and trembled like a leaf, your blood turning cold. You couldn't even scream at the absolutely horrifying and gruesome sight, you could only breathe erratically and cover your gaping mouth, your eyes watering at the macabre scene. That was how shocked you were.

Just... What the hell was happening?

Among the screams of people coming to his aid, calling the police, the firemen, any authority reachable, you didn't even notice Dio pulling you closer to him, now handling your wrist in his huge hand.

"You will drive for me. Don't make me repeat myself." He demanded with a surprisingly careful, indoor voice.

You stared up at his harsh and unforgiving amber eyes, events not making sense in your alarmed brain.

You wanted to protest. Oh only God knew how much you wanted to protest. But your were stuck between fight or flight and were as good as paralyzed.

Even if you did want to obey his orders, you were completely incapable of moving a muscle. Your shaky legs wouldn't respond and it was hard to breathe. He was terrifying. This man was so terrifying.

In an empty instant that felt like no second at all, you found yourself at the driver's seat of your own car, the door beside you shut.

Strange. It felt as if... As if...

You had been teleported...?

You couldn't dwell on these confusing and quite impossible thoughts when the car suddenly bounced on its suspension springs under the weight of the massive man intruding the passenger's seat of your car and, while he was at it, your personal space.

You couldn't help the shaky whimper that left your mouth as he blankly stared ahead and closed the door, silencing the outside noises and screams.

You were trapped in your own safe space. The string of strange events happening one after the other left you completely numb and mind broken. You didn't know what to do. What were you supposed to do?

"Drive. I will guide you."

You flinched at his deep voice amplified by the acoustics of the tiny space. You obliged and started the engine, driving slowly and carefully to who-knows-where.

Was he kidnapping you? Was he leading you to your own grave? Who was this man? Was he even... No... Clearly he was not like anyone, but maybe not to the point of not being human, that would be delirious, right?

Right?

"Are you scared?" He broke the silence in a strangely soothing and breathy voice. You shakily nodded, foolishly honest. Not trusting your voice and the lump tightening in your throat as you held back more tears.

There was no point in hiding the truth anyways. This man clearly knew the effect he had on you and how terrifying he was to the poor innocent civilian that you were. He chuckled in a low rumble before speaking again.

"Turn left."

"Are you..." You gulped, your voice wavering like a broken radio station "... Going to kill me...?"

You rathered not glance at his face in fear of seeing his current sinister smile, how amused he was by you. It was extremely unfunny to you but what a cute little entertainer you were to him.

"... Maybe." That meant yes. You had accepted your fate. "I am in a good mood, if you keep being good to me, who knows? I might let you live."

You had no hopes for this. He spoke like he was being exceptionnally merciful, but you already considered yourself dead.

You clenched the stirring wheel and turned towards each directions he instructed. You thought of crashing the car for a moment. If you were going to die tonight, you might as well take him down with you.

Yes, it would be so easy. Just take a sharp turn and step on the gas, hand brake, right into the nearest wall or maybe just throw your car over that bridge into the Nile. You could do that.

But you didn't.

You eventually started to approach an unknown part of Cairo, somewhere you never bothered visiting. Some kind of secluded yet beautiful residential area, that 'Dio' man probably lived around here.

You stopped at a red light with frustrating thoughts in mind. Where you just his taxi driver? Was he just messing with you all this time? But the stranger's arm flying off earlier, and the weird skipping of time that followed. Were you just crazy? Oh God, you didn't feel good at all, this didn't feel right.

You had a hard time breathing properly and you felt your tears come back tenfold, this time, accompanied by a painful coil in your stomach. You don't think you've ever felt so strongly in your entire life.

"Don't be afraid." He reassured, his voice of velvet tingling you.

He reached over and ever-so-gently ran his knuckles over your now wet cheek, wiping your hot tears that streamed down your face against your poor will. You wanted to flinch away, but you dreaded that his gentle touch would turn deadly and violent at the first sign of resistance from you.

"I could make a use of you, if only you listened to me." You didn't dare look at him, and the light just wouldn't turn green at all. He continued, "Would you be dear and care listening to me?"

He spoke so sweetly to you, so kindly. Like a caring father. He didn't even look that old, let alone like he could be a parent, but you felt like a helpless child in under his looming presence.

He was a monster but he was being so comforting suddenly. His aura felt so warm, so gentle, you couldn't help but relax and sigh deeply. You suddenly really missed your father.

You nodded obediently and he carefully held your chin between long and cold fingers, tilting your head to look at him.

"Good, you are good. I will make you an offer that I'm sure will please you just as much as it would do me, if you would accept."

Like hypnosis, you felt dizzy under his touch and you drowned in his molten lava eyes. Whatever he was doing to you felt like bliss and you knew at that point.

You couldn't say no.

With cloudy eyes and a mindless blurry nod, you swallowed all his words, all his promises. He swore a peaceful yet exciting life, stress-free, filled with many pleasures, he promised you every kinds of gratifications. For only you gave him one thing in return.

Your loyalty. Nothing more, nothing less. Be loyal to Dio, become his. Make him your Lord, your master, and you shall obtain everything.

Was that it? He would give you Heaven for the sole condition of your loyalty? Oh surely he could be lying, right? Just a scammer among all the others that inhabited the city of Cairo. Why would he ever say such nonsense to someone he just met?

As if he was some kind of ultimate being with some Godly power. Utterly improbable and ridiculous.

"So...? What do you say? The choice is yours, dear." He offered with the stance of a noble gentleman, knowing very well there was no choice to even begin with.

"... Yes, my lord."

And with a soft smirk of his, the light turned green, and you pursued your little trip.

Right to Dio's mansion.

#writing #x reader #reader insert #jojo #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #stardust crusaders #part 3 #jojo part 3 #dio #dio brando #dio x reader #dio brando x reader

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aileysmirnov · 5 years

Text

◇◆Ailey Villains Gallery: Scarecrow◇◆

Scarecrow's face claim: Adrien Brody

Secret vs Scarecrow! How did they met?

Ailey (Secret) and Scarecrow met 'thanks' to Batman:

One night in Gotham, Scarecrow infiltrated the Iceberg Lounge with the intention to Kill some of Penguin's Henchmen.

With a more "upgraded" (and letal) version of his fear gas.

Just as a way to send a message to Oswald who had stolen some of his gas and now was selling it for a very high price on the dark market.

To prevent Batman from intervening, Scarecrow convinced Riddler and Dr Pig to create a "distraction" (if murdering almost 11 people between the two and then make an "spectacle" about it, can be called like that) for the Bat.

And unfortunately when the "Caped Crusader" realized it was a trap (thanks to one of Riddler's "funny" riddles) he was already too far from the building.

Too far from stopping Scarecrow.

He analyzed all of his options pretty fast: he couldn't send Damian, he was with him, Dick was in Blüdhaven, He already send Tim after Riddler and Steph after Pig, Cass and Barbara where in another state with the Birds of prey, Duke and Kate where teaming up to solve a crime involving a new rising homicidal cult and Jason…he wasn't in good terms with Jason…again…and he losed his track at least 2 weeks ago.

And so…he reluctantly took the phone and dialed the number of the one person he could think of.

Ailey was doing the usual: shouting angrily and throwing a tantrum towards her employees (like the good little tyrant she is) for a last minute cancellation of 4 of the stellar models for the upcoming Winter collection of SVELLYO. When all of a sudden she received a call from the one and only: Bruce fucking Wayne.

—B! What a perfect timing! Is not bothersome at all!—she remarked the words sarcastically annoyed a tone that sounded like the venomous hissing of a snake.

—Listen Ailey, I don't have time for thi-

She cut him off

—What a coincidence! Neither do I, B's man! Byee~

—Ailey…—He didn't shout at her but his more menacing (than usually) tone, make her feel like he did; it was a voice tone that Bruce normally just used when he was with Joker and when he used it. Oh boy, You just knew the man ain't taking any shit.

—Listen to me. And listen. C A R E F U L L Y. Scarecrow is in the Iceberg Lounge it's 2 minutes away from you by flying. I need you to go after him and prevent whatever he's up to against Cobblepot.—He said a little more ""nicer"" (if it's even possible) this time, but still with a hint of frustration in his voice.

—yeah…well…I also need this little favor, B—Bruce was about to fucking lose it in that moment, there where lives in danger and this CHILD was just thinking of herself!! But before he could lash out at her with a "I'm dissapointed" speech; Damian took the phone.

—He said he'll do it, you have my word. Now…Go! —Robin said without thinking twice

—Thank you, my zelenyy*! I'm on my way! —and with an Angry Bruce Lashing out at every single thing on earth on the background, Ailey hanged up, wrote a quick note to his secretary, asking him to give all of her employees a rise (including him, of course) and sprinted out to SVELLYO's roof top; without a word to the perplexed staff.

Once she stood there.She could feel the cold night breeze hitting her face and without any doubt she jumped abruptly from one of the highest points in the city.

Her eyes opened at the middle of his falling, adrenaline and renewed energy cursing trough her veins, her blonde hair replaced with a glowing rose gold, a metalic blue growing in her gaze and her outfit conveniently transformed on an all black bodysuit with slight hints of gold on the bottom of her sleeves.

His whole body defying gravity, flying through the night sky with the same grace and glory of a swan and leaving a subtle trace of light glowing pink as she passed by.

She arrived at the Iceberg Lounge back entrance at least 5 seconds earlier from what Batman had predicted.

Penguin's henchmen where all gathered in what appeared to be a small cellar on the very back of the casino, they were complaining about an out of the blue"meeting".

Secret (Ailey) assumed it was Scarecrow's way to get them all in the same place and avoid any unnecessary complications.

With extreme caution she stood and watched near the skylight, trying to fade away her own slightly glowing nature with the moonlight.

Her eyes searched quickly inside the room, ans she soon spotted atleast 6 gas tanks oddly put in some of the poorly lighted corners of the cellar.

But no sign of the maniac

Or so she though until the abrupt pain in her neck and the obscure presence behind her sooner than later make her realize; she wasn't alone.

She could feel the infernal pain from the toxin filling his lungs and cutting her breath and her vision becoming a little bit dizzy.

—You should know better than spying on people, dear…It might not end up being what you expected—his voice was deep and unforgiving, a condescending tone and the weight of countless sleepless nights leaked through every word.

She tried to speak but only felt her throat closing.

—Now, now, dear…all will end up soon. —His tall and lanky figure covered by worn out clothes to match his own psychotic aesthetic made him look intimidating. And without any glimpse of empathy he proceeded to toss her body aside with a kick like if she was a filthy dead rat, and continue to watch expectantly to the ignorant henchmen above.

He was waiting, waiting for one of them to foolishly reveal where his beloved toxin was and after a couple of minutes one of them casually mentioned a secret basement where the most important items waited patiently for whoever was able to afford his almost ridiculously expensive price.

Crane smiled wickedly to himself…he had just what he wanted…almost.

He activated the slightly hidden tanks of fear gas and watched in admiration as some of the henchmen faces started to change into a horrified expression.

—Head's up, asshole!—He didn't even had time to process the situation properly, when Secret's hands where at both sides of his head, the tip of her fingers illuminated and emanating Rose gold strings of pure energy attaching themselves to Crane's mind.

And at that exact moment he remembered: the pain, the panic, the fear.

The very first time he tested his toxin, was on himself: he was laying in to that dirty old shack for what felt like an eternity; he screamed and begged and yet the hallucinations didn't leave him, his mind was racing with the most horrible thought it could possibly even consider, everything so real and yet so distant. He felt hopeless.

And the delicate strings clinging tight around his mind. Lord, what a bittersweet nostalgia! He felt the same, the same way as the first time, he could hear the screams, the voices, the endless discontent. But couldn't find anything around him…just…hollow and for some strange reason…that scared the shit out of him.

Ironically it had been years since the last time Crane felt genuine fear.

When Crane woke up, he was already in that horrible place: a worn out cell from Arkham

But strangely he didn't feel any kind of anger or frustration. No…he felt…elated in the best way possible almost like if he had reborn!

And so…he stood there; staring blankly at the small window with an almost devilish smile across his face.

Waiting for the next encounter

◆◇◆◇

Ailey felt so proud of herself, she had successfully managed to knock out Scarecrow, control the gas leak and save Penguin's henchmen! All alone! And even took the liberty to recover all of Crane's toxin samples Penguin had!

She couldn't wait to see Bruce's face, Oh that man owed her BIG TIME!

When Bruce and Damian finally arrived at the Batcave, he was welcomed by her.

She looked like a 10 year-old who approved one of his test and was proudly showing off the paper to his parents.

Wich made Bruce smile…a little (even if he doesn't admit to it)

—See? You can trust me, B!—she said handing him the samples.

—So you send him to Arkham? Hmm…honestly I didn't though you'll made it…but good job…I guess…?—Damian admitted, while taking off his mask.

—Well, I'm glad I'm not THAT disappointing, sir! —Her tone expressing the sarcasm and slight frustration and offence in every word. Which Damian only replayed with a faint little smile.

—…Good Job, Ailey…—Bruce spoke for the first time since they arrived

—…and thank you for your help…—He completed with a slightly more """friendly""" tone (which just means less stiffness in his voice but still maintaining his authoritarian tone)

—yeah…well…don't thank me yet…we had a deal!—She said while playfully floating around him and touching the ears of his Bat-suit; Bruce could only do as much as to touching the bridge of his nose trying to contain his very obvious nuisance.

—…What do want? —He said sighing heavily.

—Nothing much, really! I want You, Damian, Dick and Katy modeling for SVELLYO winter collection catwalk, next week! —

◆◇◆◇

OMG! That was fun! I was going to put a small and cute little drawing of Ailey touching the ears of the Bat-suit but I still haven't finished yet! So yeah…I will edit it once I have it done!

Anyway! I loved writing this, and I will be uploading more content for Ailey, wich now she has her official anti-hero name! And is called

🥁🥁🥁🥁

Secret!

Shout out to @melyaliz / @insideoflit for the name idea! I honestly struggle so much with names 😅

Thanks to @Shiro.GURu (on insta) for helping me with this! Love ya, girl <3

Tagging: @lobodesaturno @snowflake2sstuff @lord-carstairs @weam0theblueblues @morefarthanaway

#batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #OC #scarecrow #antihero #dc comics #damian wayne #robin #jonathan crane #ailey #greek mythology #adrien brody #edit #hedcanons #imagine #villian #lol bye

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