#carmen berzatto smut

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

would it be possible to write pathetic subby carmen?? maybe even pegging him?? idk id really really appreciate it!

oh yeah. that’s the good stuff. smut warning, obvs.

“I didn’t even know your back could arch like this, Carmen.”

You run your hand up and down the length of his spine, admiring the dips and curves and the dimples at the base of it.

“Stop it,” he mumbles.

“Stop what?”

“Talking like that.”

“You don’t like it when I compliment you?”

He groans, burying his face in the pillows in embarrassment. You pull back your hips before slamming them against his backside, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling at the noise he makes. You’re having too much fun - keeping your strokes deep and slow, making sure Carmen stays right on the edge.

“Please.”

“You look so pretty like this, Carmen. Ass up, face down, taking my cock like you were made for it.”

You watch as his knees buckle, sending him crashing down onto his stomach on the bed. You hike his hips back up to where they were, giving him a condescending slap on the backside as you do it.

“Stay in this position or I won’t let you come. Understand?”

When you’re met with silence, you pull out of him completely, laughing when he whines.

“Understand?”

“Yes, yes. Please. I understand. Please.”

“Please…?”

“Please, baby.”

Slap.

“Nuh uh. Try again.”

“Please, ma’am.”

Slap.

“Nuh uh.”

“Please… mommy.”

You slide back into him with no warning, his breathy moans like music to your ears.

“Good boy, Carmen. Good boy. I’ll give you what you want now, because you’ve been so well behaved.”

All he can do is whine, pushing his hips back to meet your thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. There we go. Good boys get rewarded.”

[carmenberzattosgf]

okay but imagine carmy’s first time without the condom☝️😊 how he’d ask you if you’re sure so many times beforehand and when he’s finally inside he has to hold you still because damn! that feels almost too good! and it’s even worse if it’s the first time he cums inside too -💫

Carmy has you stripped naked within ten minutes of knocking your apartment door. You fall back on the mattress and watch as he quickly takes off his shirt and pants.

He crawls over top of you next, meeting your lips for a series of hot, messy kisses. He’s still wearing his boxers, so you take it upon yourself to push down his waistband so he can kick them off. He groans into your mouth when you grip his cock and lightly stroke him, spreading precum down his length.

“Need you to fuck me, Carm. Please—don’t wanna be teased. Just need you.” Carmy usually insists on eating you out first, but you want him inside of you.

“Y-yeah—I’ll take care of you.” He pauses for a moment, realization hitting him. “Shit! I don’t have a condom.”

“I wasn’t expecting you, or I would have bought some,” you giggle. He showed up tonight completely unannounced. He kissed you with hunger when you opened the door, making it clear what he needed from you.

“Sorry, I uh—just had to see you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day at work—shit—“ his voice falters as you stroke his dick again. More precum forms at his tip. “I can eat you out?” He offers.

“Want you, Carmy. I’m on birth control, it’ll be fine.”

You feel his cock pulse in your hand from your words.

“Are you—are you saying—“

“Please, Carm. I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck—are you sure? Shit, I can run down the block to the corner store if you want me to.”

By hooking a leg around his waist, you press Carmy in closer to you, lining him up with your entrance.

“M‘positive. Want you to fuck me. Please,” you beg. Carmy doesn’t take much convincing, though. He sinks into you slowly. A broken gasp leaves his mouth as the head of his cock slips into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ve never—never done this without a condom—holy fuck, baby.”

“S’good, Carmen. Filling me up so, so good—shit,” you whine as he completely bottoms out inside of you. He’s pulsing inside of you, and panting into your ear. You can’t help but move you hips to feel his cock nudge against your walls.

“Fuck. Stop. Stop moving,” he says through clenched teeth, gripping your hips to keep you still. “Just—just give me a second.”

You know better than to press your luck, so you run your fingers through his hair as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Shit—so—so wet—fuck,” he murmurs. “Didn’t know it could feel like this. M’not going to last long. God—“

“Carmen—please move. Please—“ you beg. “Don’t care if you don’t last—want you to fill me up.”

“Holy shit, baby.” You watch Carmy’s eyes go dark. He was planning on pulling out and cumming on your stomach, but now that option is off the table. You want him to pump you full of his cum, and that thought alone makes his cock twitch.

Once he starts fucking into you, Carmy’s pace is relentless. He’s holding onto you for dear life, arms wrapped around your frame. He’s not hiding his face in your neck, though. He’s resting his forehead on yours so he can watch your face as you take his cock. Whenever he’s not kissing you, he has his bottom lip inbetween his teeth to contain the sounds of his moaning.

“So tight—so fucking warm, baby. Perfect for me. God, you’re perfect.”

“Carmy, Carmy—I can’t—m’gonna—“

“Soak my cock. Let me feel it,” he commands. He moves one of his hands to circle your clit with his thumb, and that sends you over the edge. Carmy’s pace grows sloppy and erratic. His forehead moves to rest on your shoulder, so he can look down and watch his cock thrust in and out of you.

The pulsing of your cunt around him with zero separation pulls a broken groan out of his lips, but he’s still trying to hang on for you. His hips fuck into you roughly, pounding into you hard and deep.

“Carm—cum in me. Fill me up—wanna feel you spill out of me—“ you cry. He lets himself go at your words, biting into your shoulder as his hips press as far into you as possible. You feel him throb inside of you, filling you up with cum.

You both lay in bed for who knows how long to catch your breath. Carmy’s still inside of you, keeping you plugged up with his load. He’s the first one to break the silence.

“Baby, I don’t think I can go back to using a condom again after that— I’ll pay for you to get an IUD, or an implant, or whatever you want.”

“Deal.”

[lovebugism]

you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot. 

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way. 

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway. 

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

“Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure. 

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again. 

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin. 

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease. 

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping. 

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper. 

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

[thebearer]

could use a push |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: sometimes carmen needs persuasion to finish his tasks. sometimes you have to persuade him.

part of the carmen x social media manager au. the two other works follow me and fall into me can be found here <3

contains: smut. slight voyeurism-ish?? oral male receiving. super sweet and smutty. social media manager!reader. carmen hates doing tasks lol.

“Carmen,” Sydney turned, carrying a large tray of vegetables that needed to be prepped, expertly dodging the other chefs working on the line. Carmen gave a huff of a grunt, not bothering to look up from his own prep, too in the zone. 

“Chef,” Sydney huffed, firmer this time, catching his attention when the tray smacked on the counter next to him. “Someone’s in the office for you.” 

“Me?” Carmen blinked, brows pulling in a deep frown. “No, not f’me-” 

“-Yes, for you, Chef-” 

“-No, that’s Richie’s job. Cousin,” Carmen leaned back, shouting towards the swinging doors. 

“Carmen, will you- there’s someone in the office for you. Ok? They’re here for you, not Richie.” Sydney muttered, shaking her head in annoyance. 

Carmen paused, looking at Sydney. “What’re you doin’?” He asked. 

“What?” 

“No, what’re you doin’?” Carmen repeated, eyes narrowed at her skeptically. “No-No one should be in my office. I’m not doin’ the interviews for bussers, that’s Richie, so who’s in the office? Hm? What’s goin’ on?” 

“Nothing’s goin’ on, jeez.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “There is someone in the office for you.” 

“Yeah? Is it-it’s Fak? Is he fuckin’ with me? Gonna walk in there and what? Gonna spray some shit on me like we’re fuckin’ fourteen-” 

“-What? No.” Sydney frowned. “I don’t- Look, I was told not to tell you who’s in there because it’s a surprise, ok? It’s not bad. Just- Can you go in there? I don’t know why they asked me to do this, but I’m clearly not good at the whole surprise thing, so just do me a favor and go see for yourself.” 

Carmen huffed, wiping his hands on the clean towel next to him, craning to see his office from his spot. He looked at Sydney with a deadpan expression. “If I get sprayed with some shit, Chef.” 

Sydney rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning to pass the prep to the chef beside her. Carmen looked carefully to see if anyone around him was lurking, hiding in the shadows to watch him get ambushed so they could have a laugh. He felt like he was twelve again, Richie and Mikey always fucking with him so he’d get red faced and embarrassed just so they could laugh at him. 

Twisting the knob to the office, Carmen let the door fall open before he stepped towards it. Thankfully, there were no signs of shit falling from the ceiling, nobody hiding in the shadows. Instead, sitting in his office chair was a much more pleasant surprise- you. 

“Hey,” Carmen’s face lit up, lips curling in a greeting. “What- I didn’t know you were comin’ today.” 

“I decided to surprise you.” You smiled back. “Ambush you, really.” 

“Ambush?” Carmen snorted lightly, shutting the door behind him. “What’re you ambushin’ me for?” 

You stood, letting your arms wrap around his waist in greeting, lips brushing his before he took your mouth in his fully, kissing you sweetly just like he had this morning. “Mm,” You sighed, pulling back quicker than Carmen would have liked. 

“I came to ambush you for content.” You batted your eyes sweetly at him, feeling his shoulders fall under your touch. “Because you were supposed to let me shoot the new menu items this week and you still haven’t.”

“Baby,” Carmen huffed, pulling a hand away from the small of your back to rub over his forehead. “I-I don’t- Why do I have to be in them?” 

“Because people want to see you, Carm.” You glared at him lightly. “They see Marcus and Tina and Sydney all the time, and they want to see you too. You’re the head chef.” 

“Yeah, but-but why? It’s so fuckin’ stupid.” Carmen grumbled, huffy already, the start of a bickering fight you’d had a million times before. To say Carmen was camera shy was an understatement. 

“Why is it stupid?” You put your hands on your hips. “People want to feel connected. They want an inside look. They want to feel like they know you and they’re a part of something. That’s what gets people to come.” It was the same argument, every time. Carmen knew it, he understood it, he just… Well, he didn’t like it. 

“I’ll prompt you on everything to say,” You grabbed at him, trying to coo at him, coax him into finally letting him do your job. It was easier before the two of you were dating, before he was comfortable, when he’d suck it up in the name of professionalism. 

“All you have to do is cook me a dish, and answer my questions, and that’s it! It’ll be done in no time, and you can pick whichever one you want from the summer menu.” You ran a hand soothingly down his arm, over his toned bicep, trying not to drool at the definition. 

You could feel Carmen swaying already, turning into your touch, teetering on relenting. “Does it have to be a video?” Carmen grumbled, looking at you with pleading eyes. “‘M already behind and I-I need to do some prep, and-” 

“-Don’t lie to me.” You frown at him. “I asked Sydney before and she said you were all caught up for the day. Ahead, actually.” You lifted a brow in challenge. 

Carmen huffed, turning to look over his shoulder, cursing Sydney in his head. “I know your games, Berzatto.” You poked his tummy lightly, trying to lighten his mood with playfulness. The last thing you needed was him to be so sulky during the filming, ruining the content. “Know all your tricks, so don’t even try them.” 

Carmen let out a half huff, lips pursing in a tight line in defeat. He was so pouty, petulant, really, but you decided against teasing him about it. 

“One video?” Your hand slid up his chest, cupping his cheek gently, pulling his eyes back to yours, heart fluttering when his gaze was on you. “One video and… and I’ll make it up to you.” 

Carmen’s heart stuttered, leaping with excitement he tried to swallow down. “Yeah? Make it up to me how?” He muttered, voice dropping low to a near gravel. 

Your lips twitched, pulling at the corners of your mouth in a wicked, triumphant smile. “If you do the video for me today,” You purred, slowly pulling away, slinking towards the door. “I’ll owe you something later. Whatever you want.” Your lashes batted in suggestive playfulness.  

Carmen’s palms itched with excitement, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. “Yeah?” He tried to keep his voice steady, keep it from cracking to show his eagerness. “W-What’d you have in mind?” 

You shrugged sweetly, clicking the lock on the door. “Oh, that’ll be up to you, Chef.” You grinned, Carmen’s posture going rigid with thrill. 

“But if you promise after this you’ll do my video,” You stepped towards him, toe to toe with each other, though neither touched the other. “I’ll give you a little taste of what I had in mind for later.”  

Carmen swallowed, nodding furiously. He’d blame the blood rushing from his brain to his cock as the reason he agreed so easily, the reason he was persuaded without much fight. You lifted your brows in an amused question. 

“Yeah? You’ll do it for me?” You tilted your head to the side gently. 

Carmen nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. “Yes, fuck, yeah. I-I’ll do it.” 

You grinned, sliding your hands down his arms, towards his torso. “Thank you, baby.” You hummed sweetly. “You want me to give you a little sneak peek of what I had in mind for tonight? A little thank you for now?” 

Carmen bobbed his head furiously, swallowing a shudder when your hands slid over his lower belly, slowly towards his waistband. “You want me to give you a little taste then?” You whispered, a purr in your tone that had Carmen throbbing, aching behind the zipper of his jeans. 

“Please,” Carmen croaked, jaw tight trying desperately to stay quiet. 

You grinned triumphantly, hand sliding and cupping over his bulge, palming him through his jeans. “Alright, since you asked so nicely.” You batted your lashes at him, holding his gaze as you sank to your knees in front of him. “I’ll give you a taste.” 

Carmen’s head tipped back in pleasure, swallowing a breathy moan that threatened to escape, eyes darting around the small space of his office. The door was locked, the blinds shut, but still he had a nagging fear that Richie or Sweeps or someone would bust through the door, catching the two of you in the act. His veins pricked with tingling excitement at the thought, heartbeat thudding in his ears when he looked down at you through his lashes, watching you pull him from his boxers, pumping his length. 

“Mm,” You moaned quietly, soft lips pressing even softer, feather-like kisses up his shaft. 

“Do-Don’t tease me, baby.” Carmen whispered, voice tight in a groan. You looked up at him innocently, eyes rounded sweetly. “Please.” Carmen added. 

“I won’t.” Your breath ghosted over his cock, leaving him shivering at the sensation. The pad of your thumb swiping over his already leaking head, spreading his release around. “I’ll make it quick. Just relax, Carm. I’ve got you.” 

Carmen slid a hand over his mouth, muffling a moan when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head. His teeth sank into his knuckles, head tipping back towards the ceiling at the sensation. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fu-uck.” Carmen muttered, your free hand pumping his length, slowly taking his tip past your warm lips. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time, rounded and eager to please, eager to watch him be pleased. 

Carmen’s free hand moved to the top of your head, cradling it gently as you sucked him off, cupping his balls and massaging them. You’d always been so good at this. He’d told you that from the beginning, heart nearly exploding when you’d smiled sheepishly and asked him, “really?” in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. 

From then on, Carmen had never failed to sing your praises- in anything you did, but especially when you gave him head. Now, he fought back the urge to groan loudly, to look down at you and say filthy, sweet things that would have you squirming, thighs rubbing together. Anywhere else but here, he would have, but he couldn’t risk the others hearing. 

Instead, he moved his hand to cup your cheek, hollowed and full with his length, thumb brushing over your cheek bone sweetly. “You’re makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, baby. S-So fuckin’ good.” Carmen rasped, clenching his hips to keep them from bucking when you moaned around his lengths, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. He was close, you both knew it. 

You pressed the pad of your thumb gently down the seam of his balls, hitting a sweet spot Carmen didn’t even know existed until he met you, a breathy whine of a moan catching in his throat. 

“‘M close, baby. “M- Like really fuckin’ close.” Carmen whispered, brain beginning to fog, ears starting to buzz with a dull ringing that always came with his orgasms. 

You picked up speed, head bobbing at a fast rate, up and down his length, swallowing him further and further, gagging when you took him a little too far. You always looked at him with embarrassment, a little sheepish when you’d do that, like he didn’t beg for you to do it again, like he didn’t bust every time you did. 

“Shit, shit, shit, ‘M-” Carmen’s mouth fell open dumbly, eyes blowing and glazing with ecstasy, a strangled gasp and moan filling the room as he came, spilling his load down your throat. You kept pumping him through it, milking his length onto your tongue, hot release onto your taste buds while his body shook with pleasure. 

Carmen’s shoulders heaved, rounding with exhausted pleasure as he slowly came down off his high. You waited until he looked back at you, eyes meeting yours to swallow. Carmen nearly fainted right then and there at the sight. 

Thirty minutes later, you were set up with your camera, the two of you giggly and sweet in your own corner of the kitchen, while Carmen eagerly filmed your video. Even feeding you a bite when he was finished with the dish, beaming at your praise. 

[wtfsteveharrington]

something new | luca x reader

i was awoken from a dream last night

contents: requested size kink so luca is hung!! basically pwp, slight somnophilia if you squint, unprotected sex, spanking, lots of pet names from Luca, reader receiving fingering, dirty talk, semi-submissive reader vibes, pulling out for backshots but some cum play still whoops

a/n: used a photo of will bc it fit the vibe so well 🌝 can we, as a fandom, decide a last name for this man!! only semi proof read i fear pls ignore any mistakes. also no pronouns or real reader description used.

contents: 2.7k.

the climax right before morning's first light

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your body feels heavy as it’s pulled from a deep sleep. 

There’s warm lips on your shoulder placing soft kisses along your skin, a hand kneading at your ass while you wake up. You hum into the quiet room while burying your face into the pillow desperately not ready to wake up. “S’everything okay?” 

Luca’s chuckling against you, sliding his calloused hand up the back of your thigh while you stay lying on your stomach. He looks down at the sight of you illuminated in the moonlight from his apartment window, soaking in every inch. His hand cups under the bottom of your behind, giving it a little jiggle for his own entertainment. 

“All’s fine, my love. Didn’t mean to wake you so early.”

You turn your head towards the nightstand and it takes a few blinks for your eyes to finally focus on the dim clock. 3:30 AM. Early enough for him to get up to shower, make tea, and leave out a small note of affection on the counter for when you wake up at a much more reasonable time. He typically doesn’t wake you, opting to shimmy out of the bed but not this morning. 

There’s lips on your neck now. “Was dreaming about you and had to make sure you were real.” His hand is sliding in between your thighs now, pulling them apart. Inches away from where you’re starting to crave him. You’re whining in the pillow now while arching your hips up towards his touch. He’s grinning against your skin and rocking himself towards your side. Luca’s hard and heavy against you. “Gonna go take care of this in the bathroom. Just needed a little touch of you before I go.” 

You’re shaking your head now, trying to unpin your arm that’s trapped between the two of you so you can find the waistband of his sweats slung low on his waist. “No, no. Don’t go.” The elastic is tight against your fingers as you slip your hand into his pants, fingertips brushing along his growing length which rewards you with a moan from your boyfriend. His hand gently slaps down on the flesh of your ass before he starts to pull away. You murmur out protests as you stretch your arms out straight ahead of you, fingers curling around the edge of the bed. There’s a rush of cold air as he pulls the blanket from your frame and tosses it to the empty side of the bed. 

He’s grabbing a pillow next and tapping his fingers against your side, grinning as you take the hint and lift your hips for him. “Just lay there, Darling. Let me take care of you.” Luca makes sure you’re comfortable. Taking his time to fluff the pillow just right. Running his wide hands down your back while still lazily waking up. The bed creaks under the two of you as he moves to kneel between your spread legs. He admires your stretched out form. The curve of your ass propped up and his for the taking. You’re wearing an oversized cliche t-shirt from the last trip you took together and this old pair of underwear with a half worn off print. Not the sexiest outfit to ever grace this bedroom to say the least and yet Luca doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

His thumbs slide along the seam of your underwear that’s stretched across your cheeks, warm hands sliding up your backside to your lower back to gently work on your relaxed body. He leans forward to reach up towards your shoulders, the length of him sliding against your ass and eliciting a moan from you. Luca’s taking advantage of this position to rut himself against you, the feeling of your soft body under him working him up even more than he thought was possible. 

“Always so good for me, aren’t you?” You’re nodding against the pillow, turning your head to the side to press a kiss against the hands that are now on your shoulders. “Only yours, Luca.” He’s groaning above you and there’s warm, open mouth kisses being pressed along your spine now. 

There’s a shuffling coming from behind you as Luca makes quick work of kicking his sweatpants off. You feel the warmth of his skin directly on the inside of your thighs now as he sits back up. He’s crooking fingers in the waistband of your underwear and finally, finally pulling them down your thighs and leaving you exposed to him. They’re stuck right above your knees - Both Luca kneeling between your legs and how far spread open you are making it impossible for them to go any lower. “Are you passionate about these?”

You barely shake your head no, because again they’re old and worn and you find it endearing he even asked, before the sound of them being ripped off of you fills the room causing you to gasp out. Luca haphazardly tosses them towards the trash can in the corner and gets to work pulling his own boxes down. You’re needy. Wiggling your hips through the air in slow movements to entice him. As if he needed anymore motivation. You follow his guidance and haphazardly make work taking off your shirt, balling it up and throwing it on his now empty side of the bed.

Since Luca’s doing all the work you allow yourself to stay, essentially, half asleep. Your eyes are still heavy and hooded and your body lax against the bed. He’s delivering one more small smack to the roundest part of your ass before his fingers find their way between your thighs. Normally he’d take more time teasing you, building you up. As much as he yearns to spend the whole day tangled in you, he does have to get to work soon. For now he’s going to be quick but he plans on taking his time with you again tonight. 

There’s fingers sliding up either side of your folds, a slow languid motion to get you used to his touch before his middle fingers slips in. You’re slackjaw against the pillow, letting out a stream of breathy whimpers you can’t control. Luca knows you. Knows every inch of you. So he’s using that knowledge to get you ready for him. His pointer finger slides into you while his thumb finds your clit at the same time. You’re wet, the scissoring and dragging motions Luca’s making causing a slick sound to come from between your thighs. 

“Luca, please.” He grins down at your backside, enjoying the view of his fingers working deep inside of you. “Always so greedy, aren’t you?” You respond by rocking your hips back against his hand and clenching down against his fingers which causes him to chuckle. “Alright, alright.” His hand slides out of you and smacks down against the back of your thigh. Your left behind wetness from his fingers attracts the cold air and causes goosebumps to rise. 

You secretly like when Luca spends a little less time stretching you out then he probably should. The way your boyfriend stretches you out as he first pushes in you has become a piece of heaven. There are nights he spends as long as you’ll allow eating you out and fingering you, toying with your pussy for his own enjoyment. Leaving his chin wet with you and a darken spot on the sheets until he fucks through how sloppy he’s turned you. 

Not tonight. You’re wet, yes. But you know there’s going to be a heavenly burning feeling coming your way. The amount of care your boyfriend puts into you making you comfortable enough to open yourself in that way. Knowing he’d stop the second you asked if needed. 

The head of his cock sits heavy against your entrance and you feel yourself desperately clenching around nothing. He’s pulling you from your train of thought and your body is buzzing in anticipation. The slap of the tip of him against your clit causes your body to jerk which prompts Luca to use his free hand to grip your hip, holding you in place. “Be good, yeah? Let me get us off before I gotta go. Can’t have you wet all day waiting for me to come back home to take care of you.” Luca lines himself up with your hole, sliding just the tip of himself in which pulls a moan from both of you. 

“Baby, please.” Pride swells in Luca’s chest as you start to beg. If he hadn’t been gripping your hips then you would have rolled them back to take more of his length in you. Instead he goes slow, allowing you to adjust to his girth inch by inch. Even after dating for this long, you still weren’t used to him yet. 

There’s a bit of drool coming from the corner of your still parted lips as Luca works his length in. Your boyfriend was well endowed to say the least. A good length, something you could still take to the back of your throat but not so long you couldn’t sink all the way down it. But his girth? That was unmatched. Thick, heavy, and all yours. 

“Feel so amazing, Darling. Was dreaming about this pussy spreading around me.” Luca jerks another inch in without warning, a squelching sound coming from you as the movement causes some wetness to drip out. You can’t form a thought when he’s got you like this. Your body is still relaxed against the bed as Luca stretches you out. 

It takes a moment for him to bottom out and all your mind can focus on is just how deep he feels inside of you. The sensation causes your breath to catch, pathetically letting out whatever whimper you can muster and allowing him to use you to his heart’s content. Luca gives your hip a little squeeze as a warning he’s going to start moving, giving you a second to accept what’s to come before the first roll of his hips hits. 

You’re a mess. Groggy still, already becoming cock drunk. It’s easy to do with him. “S’full, Luc. So, so full.” Even with his brows knitted in concentration as he tries not to instantly cum at the sight of your pussy stretched around him, he’s proud to get you this way. 

But God does the sight of you already have him close. 

Stretched out around him, filled to the max you could be. You look so beautiful like that. Luca fucks through all the wetness you give him, hips building a steady rhythm easily. His eyes flash over towards the clock and something about the pressure of a time constraint is making him a bit more feral than he expected. 

His pace quickens and you’re back to being reduced to a drooling mess under him. Moaning out an incoherent string of pleas, praise, and curses. You couldn’t repeat what’s coming from your mouth even if you tried. His heavy balls slap against your clit which each thrust and Luca’s grabbing your hips with both hands now to get a better grip on you. Fingertips digging in enough that bruises will be left as he starts to fuck into with a firm pace. 

“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy. So wet for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna be sore all day now but you don’t care. Every step’s gonna remind you how good I fuck you.” 

Your head is spinning. 

You allow yourself to be fucked by Luca, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you desperately clutch anything within reach to keep yourself grounded. He’s… Brutal. Fucking you for his own pleasure in a way. He needed to get off and get off quick before work - But arrogantly knew how good you were for him. Knew that him using you like this would get you off too. 

One of his hands gripping your hip loses his grip and there’s another smack being delivered to the fat of your ass. He groans at the sight of you bouncing, the red mark already blooming from his hand. The burning of being stretched out is fading away and being replaced by the pure pleasure of your boyfriend wrecking your body. 

His hand is sliding up from your ass to press down on the small of your back, a comforting touch compared to the brutal pace of his hips. Long forgotten is the sleepy mask of morning, Luca just chasing after pleasure for the both of you now. You purposely flutter yourself around his length, trying to pull him closer as well. 

“Can you come for me, Darling? You can do that, can’t you? Wanna feel this pretty little pussy finish before I do.” You’re squeezing yourself tighter around him now, the soft pillowcase feeling rougher as your face continues to bounce against it. The room is getting hotter by the second around you two. 

Something about the combination of circumstances has you getting close to finishing far faster than normal. You catch yourself biting down on the pillow as Luca drags his nails down the soft skin of your back, his hips not losing pace as the all too familiar sensation starts to coil up deep inside of you. 

You’re crying out at the sensation, pussy tightening around him as your orgasm rocks through your body. Toe curling, back arching, clit throbbing orgasm. You collapse even further into the bed, a mess of breathless whimpers as Luca continues to fuck through your sensitive body. God you sound lewd with how wet you ended up. 

Luca’s quick to follow after watching you come undone around him.  

He’s moaning out your name, giving a few more pumps through your wetness before quickly pulling out. Stroking his soaked length to keep the sensation and then you feel warmth splattering along your ass and back as he cums on you. He’s breathless and whiney, teasing his own overstimulated cock behind you. Thumb swiping along his tip to collect the last droplets before wiping it in-between your folds and pressing it into you. 

As much as he loved cumming in you, he wanted to make sure he had time to get you cleaned up before he had to leave but he still couldn’t leave you without anything left inside of you. 

Luca drags you to the bathroom after he gives you a moment to collect yourself. Normally he’d take his time with aftercare but sadly he’s lacking just that - time. You use the restroom while he draws the two of you a shower and take a good look at yourself in the mirror while he corrects the water temperature. Healing hickies low on your chest, your hair looking crazy from the combination of sleeping and being wrecked. He’s got twenty minutes left before he runs out of time to make his breakfast but he refuses to leave you in a pile in the bed. 

He makes quick work of washing off your over sensitive body, letting you stand there and run your fingers along his chest, his arms, whatever inch of skin you can reach. “You’re so pretty.” 

Now after what just happened in the bedroom? You’d think nothing would phase him. 

But Luca’s cheeks are going bright red at the compliment. He cups your face with his soapy hands, bringing you two together for a kiss as a silent thank you. 

Luca gets you dried off and sends you back to bed with a pat on your ass. He’s rushing to get ready for work while you lay down in a lump on the bed. Towel tight around your body and the covers long forgotten. It takes a few minutes for him to emerge from the bathroom clothed and hair gelled but he can’t help laughing at the sight of you. You feel the towel being tugged away from your body, the previously discarded blanket being tucked around you and a kiss pressed to the top of your head. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He leaves everything you need for your morning tea sitting on the counter before running out the door.

[bunbabbles]

carmy who tells you to “knock that shit off” when you call him daddy… carmy who tells you he’s “not fuckin’ playing” when it falls off of your lips once more while he’s fucking you stupid…

as always— the anger subsides because it’s in his nature to be hot and cold. you’re hanging off of his cock while the blunt head bullies your cervix the pleasure subdues the ache in your cunt. a thick tattooed hand is wrapped around the back of your neck, keeping your head turned to the side and your cheek smushed against the cool countertop. a string of drool hangs off of your kiss swollen lips, brought on by the lewd sounds that numb your mind further and further until he’s all you can feel and fathom.

your hips knock into the edge of the granite, as his own smack against the plush curve of your ass— you know you’ll be sore in the following hours but you don’t give a fuck when he leans in real close, voice rough and gravelly while his lips move against the heated shell of your ear, making you whimper— “is this what you needed? y’needed daddy to fuck you like the filthy fuckin’ brat you are? maybe you’ll finally listen after this, huh?”

[laiiaaa]

Carmen eating you out in the mornings just as a little pick me up before he goes to workkkkk...

He kisses you awake first. Gentle ones: into the crook of your neck, down to your shoulder, the cusp of your jaw once you start to stir. A hand snakes up your shirt, teases by your navel and close to your sternum. You turn to face him, hook a leg over his hip, giggle into his mouth when a hand presses against your back and turns it into a pretty arch. 

Five minutes you’re awake and you’re already reeling for him—and that’s exactly what he wants. Your body soft and pliant beneath his, a hand gripping your thigh, sighs spilling into his mouth, hips rocking along with his before his lips begin trailing down your neck, to your collarbone. Lower they go to your breasts, giving them love and affection where it's more than due, his hands taking purchase of the give at your waist. 

You know what he wants.

“Later,” you tell him, even though you’re throbbing between your thighs and you’d do anything for him to help. “You have work soon.”

He’s still stationed at your belly, crystalline blue peeking up at you with his mouth leaving wet kisses to the skin, a finger or two trailing up your thigh like he wants you begging. “Jus’ lemme kiss it, baby.”

A good idea, maybe even a great one…

“You gonna let me?” Poised above you again, the bridge of his nose slides by yours, breath warm against your lips when you nibble at them. “You want me to taste you?”

You hesitate. Yes. “Just…”

He smiles.

“Just don’t be late for—mmph—” 

He takes you into a kiss again, heated and grateful, already leaking pre and soaking his briefs with it. “Yeah, he nods, “I got you, baby.”

And he makes his way back down your body, tracing your curves with his hands and lips and tongue, giddy like a fuckin’ schoolboy when he gets to the main course. Savoring it, relishing in the sight like he’s got all day to do it, he pulls your panties down, caresses your thighs as he lands between them, offers languid kisses to your cunt as he brings a leg over his shoulder and gets to work.

He teases you how you like, runs his tongue through sticky folds to get the taste he craves, and his cock is so fucking hard he’s nearly shuddering with groans into your core.

“Car—hah, Carmy…” Your back arches off the bed, keening into his mouth as rough hands keep your thighs spread. 

He looks up at you, lust-blown eyes and a half-smirking mouth. “What d’ya want, baby?” He kisses his way through your folds, dripping wet as his nose bumps against your clit. He doesn’t know how long he’s taken so far and he doesn’t find it in him to care, not when he’s got you right where he’d die to have you for days on end.

All you can do is whine, babbling your way through your thoughts. “You’re—mm, fuck—you’re gonna be late for work…”

“ ‘S fine…” He presses a finger inside, teasing, kissing your cunt. “Jus’ focus on me…” And his attention’s brought back to your center again, as it always is when he has you like this, splayed out on the bed all pretty for him. “Don’t worry ‘bout a fuckin’ thing…” He keeps you bucking your hips to meet his tongue, moaning his name and threading your fingers through his hair, gripping a little tighter to make him moan when he—

“Oh, f-ffuckkk—”

When he hits that spot with deft fingers. 

A heavy sigh escapes from deep within your chest, and Carmen has to close his eyes just so he doesn’t come at the sight. He smiles again, high on lust from giving you your pleasure, rolling his hips down into the mattress to get himself off as he coos at you between breaths:

That feel good, baby?

You like that? Yeah? C’mon, talk to me.

Taste so fuckin’ good, y’know that? Mhm?

And you’re stuck just writhing against him, fucked out and incapable of saying more than a few words at a time when he coaxes you into coming on his tongue. He’ll let you cool down, too, with a proud little smirk as his head rests against your inner thigh—he’s not mean, of course, just helplessly in love. Looks up at you, you with your heaving chest and sighing breaths, and is almost ready for another round. 

Slowly he lifts himself from the bed to kiss you, a hand smoothing up your waist. “You okay, baby?”

“Mhmmm…” You smile and nod, still on the come down, hazy as you loop your arms loosely around his neck. “And as good as that was, you need to leave.” Another peck to placate him. “I was serious when I said you’d be late.”

He pouts. “We have time—”

“No, Carmen, we do not. You have deliveries coming today.”

“Y-Yeah, I know, but c’mon—”

You give him the look: a stern, scary thing you shoot at him only when he’s being too stubborn for his own good. Any other day, you’d let him fuck you twice over before heading out the door, his schedule flexible enough for another hour, maybe two, at home. But with deliveries comes more rigidity. He knows this.

“Okay,” he concedes, though not happily, taking one more gentle kiss before he sits upright and rubs his hands along your thighs. “You wanna shower w’me?”

“Not today,” you sigh lightly, “Think I’m gonna sleep another hour or two. You got me all tired.”

He chuckles and shuffles out of bed, grabs you a pair of underwear that he carefully draws up your legs, helping you cozy under the covers again before fetching you a glass of water. Another kiss. And another, and another, littered between praises as he’s perched beside your end of the bed. 

Want me to bring you somethin’ home?

You’re so gorgeous, baby.

Gonna miss you…wanna stop by later? 

You’ve gotta give him a little extra push—a push that sounds an awful lot like ‘Carmen, if you don’t leave right now I’m not letting you eat me out tonight’—before he’s heading to the bathroom and getting ready for work in minutes. You’re half way to dozing off by the time he’s done, a post-orgasm wave of bliss washing over you.

And before he leaves, he’s sure to see you one more time, smoothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead with a quiet “Bye, baby” so he can catch that sleepy smile of yours. A sweet encoded thank you for being the best part of his mornings.

[nolita-fairytale]

carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist

Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):

comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)

a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)

october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**

the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)

make my heart surrender

after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)

tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist

home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)

try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)

cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)

strawberries & cigarettes (fluffy blurb)

j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)

your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)

pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)

bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)

sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)

still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)

you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)

thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)

don't want to walk alone

the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)

june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november

granola blurb

carmy as your baby daddy

a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)

part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven

the social media au

scenes from the relationship & this story depicted as social media posts. won't always align with my other social media/moodboards.

part one | part two: first year of dating | part three |

extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:

your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)

meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)

pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)

honeymoon lingerie moodboard

christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb

The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:

(nothing here YET but working on it)

so my darling | sydney adamu x male!chef oc

jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon

stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)

sneaking around with carmy (blurb)

[ssweetleaf]

how would carmy ask for sex when he’s needy 🫢🫢🫢

umm so hear me out…

i feel like carmy is far too awkward to outright ask for sex, however he does have certain ways in letting you know just how needy he is— when he wants a tight, wet hole to sink his cock into, to forget about the bear and the kitchen and how infuriating richie can be.

his favourite way, is to press himself between your thighs, cheeks smooshed between them and nose nudging against your covered cunt, breathing you in and fighting the will to let his eyes flutter shut— instead he’d keep his eyes on yours, needing to see and watch you, with the way you curl your fingers through his hair and tug just ever so slightly.

“been thinkin’ about this pussy all day,” he’d mutter, sponging chaste little kisses to the soft fat of your thighs, “you gonna let me taste you, baby?”

and he’d curl his fingers underneath the gusset of your panties, pulling them to the side— far too desperate for your cunt to pull them down— and press his whole face into your pussy, flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down, up and down.

it wouldn’t be long till he’d have his cock inside you, quenching his desperation, his neediness.

[bweeeb]

WILDFLOWER

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Angst

Notes: I started watching the third season of The Bear and my love for Carmen returned.

Summary: When Carmen compares Y/n to Claire on a stressful day, he almost ruins everything with the woman in his life.

Carmen Berzatto was never a kid with many friends. In fact, he didn't have any for a big part of his life, until you came along. The principal and teachers thought you were too advanced for your grade and bumped you up a year, where Carmen was. Berzatto never imagined a girl as pretty as you would be his friend. He thought you’d hang out with Claire or the cool kids, but no, you obviously became friends with everyone, especially Claire, but mostly with him. It was you and Carmen. After school ended, your friendship lasted six years until he moved to New York and came back when Michael committed suicide. At first, things started off well again. You worked in your family’s marketing business, filming and promoting restaurants with creative and interesting videos. Carmen needed you to promote The Bear. You two started getting close again. Suddenly, you were helping him late at the restaurant, joining him and the crew for family meals, and then he asked you out, thanks to Richie pushing him to do it, and that’s how you got to where you are now. Maybe it was a bit early, but after a few long months, your lease ended, and without thinking much about it, you ended up moving in with Carmen. He was always working, so you didn’t get in his way, and he didn’t get in the way of your editing work. You didn’t have much to complain about. Every night, Carmen would come home, you two would shower together, helping him relax, and fall asleep watching something. Until it wasn’t like that anymore. You were always a clingy person since childhood. Your parents told you that, but never in a bad way. You always thought it was okay to show love through touch and words of affirmation, until Carmen seemed bothered by it. He started showering alone, saying he’d be with you soon. He’d let go of your hand on the couch and sit farther away than usual. The messages you used to send, which he said he loved because they relaxed his mind when the restaurant was chaotic, he no longer seemed to appreciate. You tried to make sure he was okay with all your emotions before starting a relationship, and Carmen assured you he was, even saying your touch calmed him and he’d never felt that way with Claire. Claire was never a tough subject between you two, but it was inevitable for you not to feel a pang of jealousy knowing Carmen sought her out before you.

It was almost eight in the morning, and that morning Carmen had left in a rush after oversleeping. While you were organizing things at home, his chef's coat appeared in front of you, and without much doubt, you realized he had left without it, which was almost unacceptable. You grabbed the coat and drove to the restaurant, not knowing that Carmen was having a bad day and taking it out on everyone in the kitchen. Entering through the back doors, your eyes widened at the commotion coming from the kitchen. You passed Marcus, who smiled and raised his eyebrows at you.— You need to calm your man down. He said, handing you a small bag and letting you pass. Walking through the kitchen, you passed by Sydney, who shook her head in disapproval, with Richie right behind her, clapping his hands.

— S/n, the cousin's losing it. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there, but I think you’re our only hope.

Richie said, hugging you tight and lifting your feet off the ground, causing you to let out a low laugh that made Carmen look out of his office, seeing you in Richie’s arms. Carmen's neck vein popped out for no reason, feeling jealous of your friendship with Richie, which had never happened in the fourteen years of friendship. Now, his already bad day seemed worse. Carmen, without thinking, walked over to you both, and as Richie let go of you, he grabbed his coat from your hand roughly, turned his back, and ran his fingers through his oily hair that hadn’t been washed properly, unlike when you washed it. Yesterday, he had skipped your shower together. — Maybe a thank you would be great. You said, following him through the kitchen with Richie behind you like a loyal puppy.

— She brought it for you, cousin.

— Yeah, big deal. He muttered, and you stopped in your tracks, tensing at his harsh tone.

— Leave this to me, Richie, thanks. You turned to the older man, who nodded and stepped away, ensuring that if you called for help, he’d come running.

You slowly approached Carmen, who was at the counter cutting vegetables, and leaned on one arm to look at him. — Hey, babe, what’s wrong?

Your soft, calm voice, which usually soothed Carmen, made him swallow hard in irritation.

When you got no response or even a glance, your smile fell into a disappointed sigh. — Are you okay?

— Yeah, I’m fine, Y/n. Another robotic response.

— Okay, are you mad because you woke up late?

— Your hair’s gonna fall into the ingredients. His voice raised rudely, and you widened your eyes, taking a hair clip from your bag strap and tying your hair up. — There, better? Your voice stayed calm and low, not letting the others in the kitchen hear what you were saying, always the opposite of Carmen in bad moments. — Can you at least look at me when you talk to me, please?

You asked, and the knife in Carmen’s hand stopped. His fiery gaze landed on you, and you didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a strong urge to cry from a look before. — I don’t wanna talk to you, Y/n. I didn’t ask you to come here. Carmen’s harsh words escaped, and you frowned. You knew he hadn’t called you, but you knew him well enough to know he was freaking out about not having a coat.

— Excuse me? Why are you acting like a child? I know you didn’t call me here, you jerk, but all your coats were at home, and I brought one for you.

— I don’t care what you say. I don’t want you here. Didn’t you notice that? I don’t even know if I want you in my bed anymore. Carmen’s words gradually softened until his last words came out as a confession that made your eyes fill with tears. — Stop being so clingy, for fuck’s sake. Claire was never like that. Carmen exploded, causing the kitchen to fall into an awkward silence.

— Well, maybe you should call Claire then, Carmen. You said, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest. And you couldn’t stop thinking that Claire had always been the center of Carmen’s attention as teenagers, why wouldn’t she be now?

— Maybe I will, maybe I’ll call her and say my annoying girlfriend is being a pain in the ass at my fucking job. At least Claire didn’t stick to me like glue when I got home and knew how to respect my space. She did something useful at work, for fuck’s sake. Carmen yelled, and your throat formed a huge lump, knowing you’d either cry like a baby in front of him or outside, and you preferred to do it away from his eyes.

— Go fuck yourself, Carmen. You said, turning your back on your boyfriend, refusing to look at him with tear-filled eyes again. Walking through the kitchen, Richie came up to you with wide eyes, stopping you midway, but you just pushed him aside, making him run to Carmen with his hands on his head.

— What the FUCK did you just do, cousin? FUCK. That woman is the love of your life, damn it. Look at what you just said to her, you idiot. Richie yelled in Carmen’s face, who looked at his friend with his hands on his face as regret hit him. It was like while he was saying all those nasty things to the girl he loved most, his mind was clouded with adrenaline and anger, not at her, but at the pressure he was feeling that ended up being dumped on her. Running out of the restaurant, trying to catch up with you, but it was too late, and you had already disappeared.

When night came, Carmen walked into the house, and immediately when the emptiness greeted him, his chest felt heavy with regret again. There were no warm kisses, whispered caresses in his oily curls from spending all day at the restaurant, and no you, tiny and eager to try the food he’d brought for you to taste. He approached your shared bedroom and saw you curled up under the covers, hugging a pillow that used to be him. You never slept before he got home, and immediately, the fear of losing you hit Carmen, who got in the shower and felt his tears fall as he thought about how stupid he’d been to treat the person who made him feel safe and good after Michael left so badly.

After he got out of the shower, Carmen knelt by your side of the bed and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, making you stir briefly and open your eyes quickly. Your usually bright eyes were red from crying so much, and it was impossible for Carmen not to notice. In a leap, you pulled away from his touch and sat up in bed, avoiding his gaze.

— I brought food for you. Carmen said, and you just shook your head, lying back down, unable to really sleep again.

— I’m not hungry, thanks. You murmured weakly, and Carmen wanted to slap himself for treating his sweet girl so badly. Even after hurting you, you thanked him when he couldn’t even properly apologize.

— I… I’m sorry, sweetheart. Carmen said, looking at your back and only receiving a nod. You knew your voice would crack from the tears starting to fall again, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry anymore. Carmen's heart sank at your lack of response, feeling the weight of his words crushing him. — I didn't mean it, any of it. I was just... I'm an idiot, and I took everything out on you. You didn't deserve that. You never do.

He whispered, his voice trembling with genuine regret. You stayed silent, trying to process his words. You wanted to forgive him, but the pain was still fresh. — Please, look at me, Y/n. I can't stand seeing you like this.

Carmen pleaded, his hand reaching out to touch you again, but stopping midway, unsure if it was welcome.

— Do you know how much it hurts to hear that from the person you love the most? You finally spoke, your voice breaking, making Carmen wince at the raw emotion in your words.

— I know, and I'm so, so sorry. I don't know how to make it right, but I'll do anything. Just don't leave me, please. Carmen's desperation was evident, and you slowly turned to face him, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked so broken.

— I just need you to be honest with me. If you need space, say it. If something's wrong, tell me...— You stopped for a second, apprehensive — Can I ask you something? Do you see her in the back of your mind all the time wishing I were her? You asked, sniffling, and immediately Carmen shook his head. — Because I see her, and I can't keep on someone's place.

— Claire and I didn't work out because she couldn't stand me, and I couldn't stand her. You're the reason I wake up every day, knowing I'm going to come back from the restaurant to here and you'll be here is what makes me want to keep going, Y/n. Claire didn't do that, she never did. I'm sorry. He whispered pulling you into his arms in a hug. — I love you, Y/n. I'm sorry for making you doubt that.

— I love you too, Carmy. But I swear if you make me feel this shit again, I'll leave you forever, that's your only chance to do the right things, Carmen

— I promise. I'll be better. I don't ever want to lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. He confessed, his eyes filled with tears. You sighed. and Carmen hugged you tighter as he mumbled several apologies in a row.

— Can we take a nap now, please? I can't sleep without you.

— But what about the restaurant?

— They can handle lunch without me. He said, picking you up and carrying you to the neatly made bed.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[carmenberzattosgf]

i know this might be controversial…but carmen not realizing he has a size kink until he’s got you seated on his cock, hearing you babble with teary eyes about how big he is and how good he feels, watching your thighs genuinely tremble and you haven’t even started to move yet.

definitely delves into CRAZY teasing at times, muttering shit like “sorry sweetheart, i just don’t think it’ll fit. you’ll take my fingers again, lemme stretch this pretty cunt out, yeah? maybe you can take my cock once you’ve cum again.” and eventually “it’s deep, huh? shh, i know, i know it’s big, baby, can barely move you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight…takin’ it so well…” -💫

Oh god.

I’m thinking him realizing it when you ride him for the first time, in particular. The relationship is still new and you’ve only had sex a couple of times. Carmy always insists on missionary. It lets him hide his face in the crook of your neck, where he just licks and sucks at your skin to keep himself quiet.

The night starts out normal. You’re cozy up against Carmy’s side on the couch while he watches one of his cooking shows. It doesn’t take long for your hands to start wandering on his skin. Your fingers trace underneath his t-shirt first, feeling his muscles underneath.

Carmy’s poker face is bullet proof, until you lean in to press hot open-mouth kisses to his neck. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers. The feeling of your lips on his neck always breaks down his strong exterior.

You straddle him, removing your lips from his pulse point to look into his eyes. Carmy lets one hand naturally drift to your hips, urging you to grind into him. With the other, he’s firmly grabbing your jaw to smash your lips onto his. Kissing Carmy is always messy. He kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it. His lips sloppily press against yours. There’s barely any rhyme or reason to his movements, just pure desperation for more of you.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to be completely naked. Carmy makes a move to try and flip you over on the couch, but you press down on his shoulders before he has the chance to move.

You lock eyes with him. Those beautiful blue eyes of his are now filled with desire. Only a thin ring of blue remains around his pupils. His jaw falls open when you reach down to grip his length, spreading the precum that leaked from his tip to the rest of his shaft. “Can I ride you, Carm?”

“Fuck sweetheart— you can do whatever you want. I just need to be inside of you.”

Without another word, you rise up onto your knees to position the head of his cock at your entrance. Carmy’s eyes stay focused on that very spot, shuttering when his dick makes contact with your cunt.

You sink down onto his cock at a snails pace. The tip is enough to make you wince. You grit your teeth as you let your hips sit all the way down on his cock. The pressure is impossibly to put into words. His cock is thick, and it stretches you out in ways that brings tears to your eyes. The pain is welcomed though because the pleasure that follows it is mind numbing.

Carmen’s waiting for you to move, eyes transfixed on where your hips are flush with his. It’s not until he feels the shaking in your thighs that he looks up at your face. Your lip is caught inbetween your teeth, and tears well up at the waterline of your eyes.

“C-Carm. You’re so f-fucking big. So deep Carmy—look.” You quickly grab one of his hands that was locked around your waist, and urge him to press his palm right above your mound. With shaky legs, you grind your hips, letting him feel how deep his cock is.”

“Holy shit, baby—“

“Y-you feel that?” A stray tear drips from your water line. “You fill me up so good, Bear. Like no one else can.”

Seeing you shake and cry from how big his dick is changed something in Carmen that night. He goes a little unhinged.

The next time he fucks you, it’s with both your legs thrown over his shoulders. The position is almost too much, making you whimpering. You don’t even realize you’re crying until Carmy speaks up.

“Is my cock too big for this pretty pussy?’ How about I pull out since it doesn’t fit? I can work you with my fingers until you can take it.”

“No, no, no! Need your cock Carmy. Please Carm, don’t wanna cum on your fingers. I- I want you to fill me up. Bear.”

Carmy continues to spew absolute filth once he has permission to keep fucking you.

“I can see you crying, baby. I know it’s big but you can take it. Such a good girl for me.”

“So fucking tight- going to make me cum too fast. Guess that just means I’ll have to fuck you again later.”

“I gotcha baby, you can take my cock. My best girl, my only girl. Fuck—I’ll never get tired of this cunt.”

“Atta girl, there we go. Look at you taking it so well. Knew you could do it.”

“You look so pretty crying around my cock. You’ll get used to it baby, I promise. Don’t worry, you’ll always be able to feel me in your stomach like this.”

[lovebugism]

thigh riding Carmy because he isn't paying attention to you please please please 😭

summary: carmy misses date night and finds a way to work and make you feel good at the same time (2.2k)

pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader

contents: established relationship, thigh riding, public setting (ish), dirty talk, smut with sprinkles of fluff 18+

Carmy’s office is a windowless concrete cage of chaos. There are a million papers stacked and scattered across his desk, half-hidden beneath books that are flipped open to random pages. You’re not sure how he’s keeping up with any of it. Though, to be fair, you’ve never been able to completely understand his mind.

You know him better than anyone else, but he’s still such a mystery to you sometimes — like a language you can read perfectly but can’t speak all the way. 

You don’t know why he runs himself aground with work even though it kills him, even though he swears the enormity of his desire brings him back to life again. You just know to try and save the drowning man from himself from time to time, and not to let him strangle you with his panic in the process.

“Bear?” you call gently into the amber-lit office, knuckles rapping against the opened door. “You ready?”

Sitting slouched over his desk, you can hear the faint tap tap tapping of his pen against the paper, an anxious tick for his ever-fidgeting fingers. “No. Not— Not yet, baby. I’m fuckin’— I’m drowning in this paperwork right now.”

He lifts his heavy head from his tattooed hand and glances at you over his shoulder. The sight of you makes his breath catch — leaning against the doorframe, all pretty in the lamplight, wearing the dress he bought you.

The deep emerald silk drips over your body like summer rain. It dips low at your chest and flows just above your knees, fitting you like a total dream.

Carmy, for a flicker of a moment, forgets to be anxious. 

While his eyes dart over your form, the rest of the world disappears — it could be entirely falling apart for all he knows, but all he can see now is you. Your stormy eyes, your soft skin, and your quiet sensuality. Your ruby lips, your cheeks like wine, and your gentle voice. 

His mouth falls agape to say words he can’t make out. His ocean eyes go wide, glimmering a deeper blue in the low light — which casts dark shadows over the sharp edges of his face. His gaze is like the sea. You feel yourself drowning in it accordingly.

“It can’t wait?” you press gently, lifting yourself from the doorframe and sauntering slowly towards him. Closing the door behind you, you drop your chin to your chest and flash the boy a sheepish smile. “All the restaurants are gonna close soon.” 

Carmy huffs. He knew better than to plan a date. He’s far too busy — or, rather, he doesn’t allow himself to be anything other than busy because there’s a voice inside him that just won’t be still. Working himself to death was an art he did exceptionally well, which hadn’t bothered him so much until he met you.

“I gotta get this done, babe,” he answers sympathetically, tilting his chin to keep his eyes locked with yours as you near him.

Your familiar scent sets the stagnant air aglow. The warmth of your perfume cradles his senses when you loom beside him. Your hand rises to his shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the swathe of curls at the nape of his neck. His wide palm smooths over your hip — softly calloused against the satiny fabric. 

You smile softly down at him. “So I got all pretty for nothin’?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

“Well, you got all pretty for me, actually,” Carmy corrects.

His pink lips curl in a faint smirk. Your grin widens tenfold. The subtle act of possessiveness, coupled with the strong hand on your waist, makes your chest sparkle. 

“Yeah, I did,” you hum proudly, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. He tastes fleetingly of nicotine and sweet plum wine — a maddening concoction.

You rise to full height again. Carmy pats your hip twice before his fingers fall away. He turns back to his desk, and you feel half-invisible again. It’s hardly his fault, though. There was something deeply intense about his stone-blue eyes. You feel strangely held when he looks at you, left inevitably mourning every time he turns away.

His pen darts across the gridded page in chicken scratch you can’t make out, worsened by his wrist smudging the ink. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck. You bury your nose in his chestnut curls and inhale the familiar scent of grill smoke and cedarwood. 

“You know I don’t care actually about going out, right?” you mumble there.

Carmy hums, half-distracted. “Mhm.”

“Just wanna spend time with you… Don’t care what we’re doing…”

You press a kiss to his temple. He leans instinctively into your touch. “Well, I’ll make you the best damn PB&J Chicago’s ever seen when we get back home, alright?” he muses with a quiet smile. “How’s that sound?”

“I’m holding you to that, Bear,” you say, grinning into his curls.

“I’m countin’ on it.” Carmy chuckles and lifts his free hand to squeeze your wrist. His touch slips away soon after when he turns back to his work. 

Quiet returns, heavy and deafening, filled only by the distant clanging of pots from stragglers in the kitchen. It makes you strikingly aware of yourself — of the space you’re filling in this tiny office, and the distracting weight of your arms around his neck. Feeling more like a burden, you clear your throat and pull away.

“I’m, uh— I’m gonna see if Richie left yet. Maybe he’ll let me bum a smoke or something.”

Carmy mourns your warmth the second you’re gone. He spins in his swivel chair to face you, laughing to cover up his ache. “What happened to us spending time together?”

He knows how you think. You think he gets so involved in his work that he doesn’t spare you a single thought. But really, he’s so strongly devoted to you that it feels like the emotion could rip him open from the inside.

You squint. “Watching you sign a bunch of paperwork while you pretend I’m not here is not spending time together,” you argue, laughing despite yourself.

“Don’t go. C’mon,” Carmy pleads, very distantly begging. He tilts his head and blinks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Come sit,” he tells you.

“Sit where?” you scoff.

“In my lap.”

“I’ll squish you,” you insist, giggling.

“Shut up and sit down,” he commands, still playful but leaving little room for argument. His wide palms smooth slowly up and down his denim-clad thighs. Your heart lurches into your throat.

You walk the short distance to him with a huff of feigned annoyance, dress swishing around your knees. Carmy pushes away from his desk to give you space to sit. You take a seat on his lap, just like he asked you to, but he stops you with a pair of strong hands grasping your hips.

“Not like that,” he murmurs.

Your brows furrow in response. “What do you mean?”

“On my thigh,” Carmy corrects, swatting playfully at your clothed hip. “C’mon. Sit right.”

You rise slowly, with a hesitant squint in your eyes. “What are you playing at, Bear?” you wonder lowly, legs spread slightly to welcome his thigh between them.

Carmy bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His tattooed hands creep up the hem of your dress to urge you down onto his lap — the proper way. “You’re the one always sayin’ I’m too busy for you, right?” he responds, hardly expecting a real answer, as he helps you straddle one of his thighs.

The angle is awkward. The old chair leaves little room for the both of you. You’re forced to keep one leg on the ground while the other bends at the knee between his legs. You hold tight to his shoulders, trusting him to keep you steady. Your dress bunches at your hips in the meanwhile. Carmy raises his thigh until it’s flush against your clothed cunt. 

Your breath catches, and he smirks.

“So… You’re gonna cum on my thigh,” he continues casually. “…And after that, we’ll go home, I’ll fuck you like you need, and then I’ll run you a bath… How’s that sound?”

Your stomach swirls with a familiar warmth — which you can feel pooling in your panties now. “What about the PB&J?” you joke in a quiet voice that trembles only slightly.

Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. “After the bath.”

“What about in the bath?”

“Whatever you want,” he assures with a smile. “You just gotta ride me first.”

The lighthearted air turns bone-crushingly sensual in a flicker of a moment. His light eyes pierce you mercilessly, peering into the depths of your soul. You melt for him, going uncharacteristically soft and subservient, just how he likes.

Carmy helps you with a few passes over his thigh. You’re obviously unsure, and he can tell by your hesitant movements. His free hand squeezes your hip, urging you up his leg and down again, until you find your own rhythm. Then he turns back to his work and tries to focus. The soft sound of your breathy moans entwines with the scribbling of his pen.

You rock your hips in measured thrusts, trying to find the proper pace. The delicate fabric of your panties ruts along the rough denim of his jeans — catching your clit perfectly when you buck your hips just right. Lightning strikes down your spine, then. Both alleviating the ache between your thighs and creating a new one all at once. 

Your breath hitches. Pitiful whimpers sound in your throat instead. You bury them all in Carmy’s neck as you hide your face in his shoulder, with your warm cheek pressed to his ear and your fingers balling his shirt in your fists.

There was something foreignly erotic about all this. Being in Carmy’s office, the door unlocked, with Syd and Richie meandering elsewhere in the kitchen. The fear of being caught made your movements quick. Careless. Wild. 

And there was something about Carmy, too. The way he’s got you getting yourself off, with little help from the boy himself, while he busies himself with paperwork. You can hear him scribbling away still, flitting through papers with the hand not holding you. All while you hump his thigh, so desperate for attention. It’s pathetic. And something about it made you feel good.

Your pretty whimpers turn into deeper, breathier moans. Carmy smiles to himself. He can feel the warmth of your cunt despite the layers between you. It makes him wonder if you’ve left a stain on the denim. He prays you’ve left a stain on the denim — wants the mark of your honey stamped there forever.

“You close?” he murmurs when he notices your legs starting to tremble.

You bury a whine in his neck. “Fuck, Bear—”

“Hey,” he hums, pulling away from his paperwork for the first time in several minutes to look at you. 

His long fingers rise from your hip and curl into your hair. He tugs softly at the strands to urge your head back so he can admire his work. Your eyes are lidded and glassy, your lips swollen and parted — already fucked-out, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“I asked if you were close,” he repeats, unsmiling.

“Yes,” you manage through a whimper.

His grip on your hair slackens. His touch returns to your hip, encouraging your rapid movements. His pink lips quirk in the faintest hint of a smile. “Good,” he praises. “Good girl. Keep going.”

You bury your face in his neck again, lips curling around your teeth to stifle the moans swelling there. Your hips lose their rhythm as the threat of your orgasm grows. Your clit pounds like a second heartbeat. You briefly wonder if Carmy can feel it, and the thought alone sends you reeling.

“Carmy,” you keen, voice wavering. “I’m gonna cum.”

You feel him nod against you. He licks his lips and turns his head. His nose squishes your temple; his wet mouth brushes your ear. 

“Do it, then. C’mon,” he mumbles against you, coaxing you closer towards your pleasure — not because he’s a pro at the whole dirty-talking thing, but because he knows how much you like it. “Be a good girl and cum on my thigh. Come on.”

You last two more passes up and down his lap before you tense on top of him. Your hips still as you whimper into his shoulder, shuddering hard when your orgasm washes over you.

“Atta girl,” Carmy praises. “Keep cumming for me.”

He drops his pen and finally turns away from his work. He grips your hips with both hands and works you the rest of the way through your orgasm. You let him, for a few agonizing moments, until your high fades and leaves you achingly sensitive.

You inhale sharply through your nose and reach suddenly for his wrists. “No more,” you plead, then exhale a breathy chuckle.

When you part from his neck, Carmy ducks his head to catch your averted gaze. His wide eyes dart over your pleasure-stricken features. “You good?” he wonders. His words have lost any hint of sensuality. He’s always serious about checking in on you.

You nod and swallow hard. “’M good,” you promise, then freeze when your knee nudges his half-hard cock. “Are you good?” you parrot.

Carmy scoffs a breathy chuckle. “I’m almost done here— go bum a smoke from Richie, alright? I’ll out in a second.” 

He kisses you softly. A chaste kiss that’s perhaps too innocuous for such a honeyed moment. You rise on tired legs, and he swats playfully at your side. “How’s that for spending time together, huh?” he calls over his shoulder as you wrench open the office door.

“You’re an idiot, Bear.”

[thebearer]

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!

contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers

word count: 4,587k

author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33

part one

Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.

Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good. 

He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.

This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you. 

Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you. 

———★–————————–

Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders. 

Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened? 

He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum. 

He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.

"We gotta fuckin' talk."

The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being. 

“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie. 

“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now. 

Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.” 

You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”

———————–★–———

Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station. 

But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure. 

You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.

Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.

He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?” 

“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions. 

"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."

"Did you get off watching me?"

There's no going back now.

"Yeah, I did."

You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"

Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."

Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"

He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."

You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.

"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"

Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."

You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.

"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"

Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.

He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”

You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.

You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.

Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.

“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”

So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.

He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers. 

There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”

Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily. 

It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright. 

He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you. 

His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."

There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.

You notice, of course you do.

But you don't complain.

Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.

There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.

Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off.  He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment. 

Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.” 

You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.” 

You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out. 

His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and - 

“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus. 

He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”

You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.” 

It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.

His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling. 

You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features. 

Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him. 

His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.” 

Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.

He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?” 

Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?” 

It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”

[tearsof-scarlet]

situationship - carmy berzatto x reader

situationship

noun

a romantic or sexual relationship that is not considered to be formal or established.

Where one person wants a relationship, but the other person doesn't and they're having sex with each other.

Carmy and you have begun seeing each other after both of your late-night shifts. You both share each other passion for the culinary arts, him in cooking and you in baking. While you have been enjoying his company, the thought of what the two of you were bubbled in the back of your mind. You both lead very stressful lives and the idea of being in a relationship scares you too much to ever consider it. But when Carmy admits he’s falling for you, the vulnerability between you both becomes undeniable. Faced with the possibility of something more, you wrestle with the fear that it might pull you both apart

Contains: Angst

Words: 3680

A/N: yes, the reader is a baker. yes this storyline is one of many similar stories but honestly, I've never loved a dynamic more don’t @ me.

After another long night at the bakery, you slide off your apron, still dusted with flour and the faint scent of freshly baked bread clinging to you. As you locked up the bakery you felt his presence behind you.  Carmy’s waiting for you outside, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his face shadowed in the streetlight glow. The small glow from his cigarette dangling from his mouth lightened his face. You know he’s tired too, worn from the brutal hours at the restaurant, but he gives you a small smile when he sees you. You’ve fallen into a routine—meeting up after your shifts, talking in the quiet dark, sharing pastries and leftovers from the night, finding comfort in the company of someone who gets it.

You walk down the street together, sometimes talking about the night’s chaos, sometimes in a companionable silence. Tonight, you asked him about the outcome of his chicken piccata as he talked through changes he made to perfect it. You reach his place, and without words, you both step into his barely-furnished apartment. The emptiness is a familiar comfort. Carmy kicks off his shoes, and you pull a couple of leftover pastries from your bag, placing them on the counter. You would never ask Carmy to cook for you, even though he has persisted many a times.  There’s no real plan—there never is—but somehow it works for both of you.

You pull out a plain brioche from the bag and hand it to him, watching as he takes a bite. His eyes flutter shut, and he lets out a low groan, the sound slipping out as if he’d forgotten you were there. You can’t help but smile as he leans back against the counter, savoring each bite like it’s the first real food he’s had all day.

“You added more eggs?” he asks, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his voice softer, like he’s savoring more than just the bread. There’s a warmth there, something rare in him, almost tender.

You nod, still smiling. “Thought it’d give it a little more richness. Guess it worked.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, shaking his head in that way he does when he’s impressed but doesn’t want to admit it. “Swear, you make the best baked goods in Chicago,” he says, his voice carrying a rough sincerity that catches you off guard.

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter opposite him, crossing your arms as you meet his gaze. “Coming from you? That’s high praise,” you tease, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. But you also feel a knot tighten in your chest—this thing between you two feels good, too good. And you’re not sure where that leaves you.

He looks away for a moment, the casual confidence flickering, replaced by something a little darker, a little hesitant. “Nah, I mean it,” he says, his voice softer. “You know, if I could bake like you…” He trails off, his eyes downcast, as if he’s lost in a thought he’s not sure he wants to share. His words crush you, the blindness to see how talented he is.

Carmy’s eyes linger on you, something unreadable flickering beneath the exhaustion. Then, without a word, he steps closer, his gaze fixed on you like he’s finally found the courage to say what he couldn’t before. Slowly, deliberately, he leans in and brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth. The kiss is barely there, light as a whisper, but it sends a pulse through you, both familiar and brand new.

You let out a soft breath, and for a heartbeat, you’re both suspended in this moment, standing there in the quiet intimacy of his dim kitchen, the glow of streetlights casting faint shadows on the walls. He pauses, his forehead resting lightly against yours, his breaths shallow. His eyes find yours, intense yet hesitant, and you see the silent question lingering there—Is this okay?

Without waiting for him to overthink it, you tilt your head, closing the gap between you again, this time more certain, more wanting. Your hands rise to his jaw, your thumbs brushing against the stubble as you pull him in. He sighs softly into the kiss, letting his guard slip, the tension melting from his shoulders as his hands settle at your waist, gentle but grounding.

He tastes faintly of cigarettes and coffee, rough around the edges, but it only makes him feel more real, more him. His fingers curl slightly into your shirt, pulling you closer, and his kiss deepens, a quiet intensity beneath it, as if he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this single, shared breath. You feel his exhaustion in every movement, in the way he clings to you just a little tighter, like he’s afraid this moment will disappear if he lets go.

He pulls back, just enough to look at you, his face softened, his eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. He’s breathing hard, but his expression is raw and open, a rare vulnerability slipping through his guarded exterior.

“I—” He stops, as if he doesn’t trust himself to keep going. You can see the struggle in his eyes, the effort it takes him to let down even a fraction of the walls he’s built. His thumb traces small, absentminded circles along your side, grounding himself.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you whisper, gently running a hand through his hair, letting him know that he doesn’t have to be anything other than what he is, right here, right now.

“This… us…,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. “I want this to be more than… whatever we’re doing right now.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and a part of you aches at his honesty, his vulnerability. But there’s a knot of doubt tightening in your chest, one you can’t ignore. You pull back, just enough to create a sliver of space between you, and shake your head.

“Carmy, I don’t… I don’t think it’ll work,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “We’re both too wrapped up in our own worlds. You’re at that restaurant every waking hour, and I’m at the bakery. It’s—this isn’t workable.”

He stares at you, his brows knitting together, a flash of hurt crossing his face before it hardens into something more desperate. “No. No, I don’t buy that,” he says, a raw edge to his voice. “You think I don’t know how much you love what you do? I get it. I’m the same way, and I’m still here, wanting this.”

You shake your head, frustration and a pang of sadness welling up inside you. “You don’t get it, Carm. It’s not just about wanting it. We’re both so… driven, so wrapped up in what we do, that there’s no room for anything else. We’d be pulling each other apart.”

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer, his hands still gripping your arms, holding on as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I don’t believe that,” he insists, his voice trembling. “I know I’m all-in with the restaurant, but I’m not blind to this. I know what we have here, and I’m not ready to just walk away from it. Don’t… don’t tell me it wouldn’t work without even trying.”

You close your eyes, your heart pounding, his words striking at the walls you’re trying to put up. “Carmy, you’re already on the edge. You’re exhausted every night, and so am I. How much more can we take on? If we get closer, if this turns into something serious, it’ll just… complicate things. And I don’t want to be another thing that drains you, that wears you down.”

He lets out a frustrated breath, his hands dropping to his sides as he steps back, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You think you’d drain me?” he says, practically begging you to see things his way. “You’re one of the few things that makes any of this worth it. Do you get that? I spend all day, every damn day, feeling like I’m just barely keeping it together, but when I’m with you, I actually… I actually breathe.”

His words hang in the air, raw and exposed, and it’s clear how much he’s putting on the line. You want to reach out, to take his hand, but the doubt won’t let go. “I’m not saying I don’t feel something for you, Carm,” you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I just… I’m scared that this will just become another thing you end up resenting when it gets hard. And you and I both know how that goes.”

Carmy’s fists clench at his sides, his gaze locked on yours, his eyes almost pleading. “Please. Just… please, don’t shut this down before we even have a chance. I’m trying here. I know I’m a mess, but I’m trying.” His voice breaks a little, and he shakes his head, his expression desperate. “You think I don’t worry about this too? About what it could do to us? But I’d rather try and make it work than regret not even giving it a shot.”

You shake your head, the weight of his words lingering in the air, but the reality of what you're asking him to do presses down on you. Your heart aches as you step back, putting space between you two, as if distance will make this easier. But it doesn’t. It only makes it harder.

“I can’t do this right now, Carmy,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, strained, the words leaving your mouth like they’re coated in regret. “I just… can’t.”

The look in his eyes is like a punch to the chest—hope and desperation all tangled up, like he’s waiting for you to change your mind. But you can’t. You already know how much this will hurt both of you. You take a shaky breath, pulling yourself together even though it feels like you’re falling apart.

Without waiting for him to respond, you grab your bag, trying not to meet his gaze. “I’ll see you around,” you manage to say, voice shaky as you step toward the door. But before you reach the handle, you hear his voice, quieter this time but still full of that urgency.

“Don’t walk away from this, please.”

You don’t look back. You can’t. You step out into the cold night air, the door closing softly behind you.

As you make your way home, your chest feels heavy, like you’re carrying an anchor. It’s hard to breathe, and your mind keeps replaying the last few minutes—the kiss, his words, the way his face twisted with hurt, desperation, and longing. But you couldn’t—you couldn’t—let it happen, not when you know how much it could destroy.

Once you’re home, you try to shake it off, try to ignore the way your heart aches. But the ache doesn’t go away. In the silence of your room, you crawl into bed, trying to sleep. You manage to close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come easily. And then, your phone buzzes—one message. You pick it up, and it’s from Carmy.

“you are my favourite person. you make everything worth it”

 Your heart stutters. You clutch the phone to your chest, feeling the weight of his words hit you all over again. You don’t know how to respond. How could you? He’s asking you to step into something that could break you both. And yet… his words cling to you like they have their own gravity.

Eventually, you force your eyes shut and try to sleep, but it feels impossible. Every time you start to drift off, his face pops into your mind, and you’re back there again—back to that moment in his kitchen, the rawness of his words, the hunger in his eyes.

The next morning, you wake to the harsh sound of your alarm ringing at 4 AM, your body aching from exhaustion but knowing you have to get up. The bakery won’t open itself, and the hours of work ahead of you keep your mind busy. You roll out of bed, washing up quickly before pulling on your apron and heading downstairs. The familiar smells of dough, sugar, and flour fill the air as you prepare for the day’s bake. Your hands move through the motions, mind drifting despite your best efforts to focus.

But when you walk into the bakery, you freeze. There, standing in the doorway, is Carmy. He’s leaning against the wall, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking just as worn and exhausted as the night before. But there’s something else there now—a determination that cuts through the exhaustion, a silent resolve.

"Can we talk?" he asks, voice softer than you expect.

You swallow hard, staring at him for a long beat before nodding. You don’t know what else to do, and despite everything, there’s a part of you that wants to hear him out.

You step aside, letting him into the dark, deserted bakery. The kitchen lights flicker on as you walk past him, the quiet hum of the refrigerator and ovens filling the silence. He follows you in, his steps tentative, unsure.

Once inside, he leans against the counter, hands still deep in his jacket pockets, looking out of place in the quiet emptiness of the bakery. You begin your prep—kneading dough, measuring flour—but you’re acutely aware of his presence, the air thick with things unsaid. Finally, when you can’t stand the silence any longer, you look up at him.

“What is it, Carmy?” you ask, your voice unsteady.

He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes not quite meeting yours, studying the counter like it holds all the answers. Finally, he takes a breath, running a hand through his messy hair.

He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes not quite meeting yours, studying the counter like it holds all the answers. Finally, he takes a breath, running a hand through his messy hair.

“I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for,” he starts, his voice low but clear. “But I don’t know how to walk away from you. I know we’re both stuck in our worlds, but…” He pauses, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. “I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something here worth fighting for.”

Your heart twists. You feel the weight of his words, the sincerity that bleeds through even as he stands there, vulnerable and unsure. You keep your focus on the dough, pretending to be absorbed in it even though you can feel his eyes on you, waiting.

“I don’t know what to think,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m asking for a chance. Just a shot. I know what it’s like to want something so bad you can feel it, but I don’t want to live the rest of my life wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t tried. Please, just… just tell me I’m not crazy for feeling this way.”

His voice falters, and it feels like the room shrinks around you. You can hear the vulnerability in him, the way he’s baring himself just for you. Carmy’s breath catches in the silence, and the weight of his gaze presses on you until it feels suffocating.

His words hang in the air, like a challenge you don’t know if you can meet. You feel your heart tug in response, the truth of what he’s saying pulling you in even though your mind is screaming at you to be cautious, to keep the distance. The space between your bodies feels impossibly small, but you remain still, your hands working the dough almost mechanically, as if you can control the moment by staying focused on something—anything—else.

But Carmy doesn’t give you the space you’re looking for. Without warning, his hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist firmly, pulling your arm away from the dough. Your breath hitches in surprise as his fingers curl around you, the warmth of his touch searing through your skin.

“Look at me,” he demands softly, his voice a breathless plea.

You lift your eyes to meet his, and the vulnerability in his gaze is more than you can bear. He takes a slow breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort, before he finally says the words that you’ve been dreading, and yet somehow needing to hear.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says, his voice thick, almost cracking. His words are out before he can stop them, and you can see the rawness of them—how much he means it. “But I think the day I saw you, I knew something was going to change.”

The air between you is charged now, electric. Your heart races in your chest, and for the first time, you’re no longer fighting the pull between you. His eyes are searching yours, looking for some kind of answer, some reassurance that this isn’t all just a fantasy to him. The room feels impossibly small, the weight of the moment pressing down, but it’s not a weight you want to escape.

Before you can say anything, your hands move on their own, pulling him toward you, your lips crashing into his with a force that surprises you both. His hand slides into your hair, the other slipping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he can’t bear even a sliver of distance between you. The kiss is hungry, desperate, all the words neither of you can say poured into it, all the fear, the longing, the possibility of something more.

You taste the rawness of him—coffee, cigarettes, the trace of exhaustion—and it only makes him feel more real, more human. Your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him tighter, as if you could make the moment last forever, as if you could erase all the doubts that have lingered between you.

The kiss deepens, and you feel his body pressed against yours, the heat of him seeping through the space between your clothes. There’s no room for anything else now—no bakery, no restaurant, no walls between you. Just this. Just him.

When you finally pull back, both of you panting, eyes searching each other’s faces as if trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions rushing through both of you, you realize that this is it. There’s no turning back now.

“I’m not crazy, am I?” Carmy whispers, his voice shaky with something close to hope, but tinged with doubt.

You shake your head slowly, your heart in your throat. “No,” you whisper back, barely able to breathe. “You’re not crazy.”

He laughs, the sound low and rich, burying his head into your neck as his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and for a moment, everything else fades away. "I’m going to make this work, I swear, baby." The words are soft but firm, wrapped in the kind of sincerity that makes your heart ache with a gentle kind of joy.

You smile, feeling his words settle deep in your chest, and kiss him gently on the cheek, your lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “Now get out, I’ve got ten dozen croissants to make before 7am.” Your voice is teasing, but there's a tenderness behind it, a quiet promise that everything will be okay.

He lifts his head, his dark eyes searching yours, a playful spark dancing there. "You don’t need help?" he asks, eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, like he's already planning to do whatever it takes to stay by your side. Without waiting for your response, he’s already rolling up his sleeves, his movements so effortless, so sure.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the laugh that escapes, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside. “Fine," you concede with a mock sternness, but your heart is fluttering. "But follow my instructions and don’t change any of the ingredients, Berzatto." You half threaten, the words playful but laced with affection, like a gentle challenge.

He smirks, "Yes, ma’am," his voice rich with amusement, before he turns toward the sink. The soft sound of water running fills the kitchen, but all you can focus on is the way he moves—confident, but somehow always a little clumsy in the best way. When he turns back, you can’t help but laugh softly at the sight of flour already dotting his clothes and smudging his face from your make out session.

You watch him, your heart warming at the sight of him trying so hard, his smile a little sheepish but full of that genuine joy that you’ve come to love. There’s something about him in this moment—so real, so raw, and so undeniably him and it makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

You shake your head, unable to stop your own smile from spreading wider. He looks like a mess, but in the best way, and for the first time in a long while, everything feels so right.

And as you stand there, the soft hum of the bakery in the background, the smell of fresh dough filling the air, you realize that despite the chaos of your worlds, despite the unknowns that lie ahead, you wouldn’t change a thing. And you know, without a doubt, that this is only the beginning.