#feral!carmen berzatto

[neonovember]

Hello, uhm, so this MAY be an uncomfortable thing to request I’m not too sure. It’s totally totally okay if it is absolutely feel free to ignore this, but the way you write Carmen is so so comforting. I have this neighbor that lives downstairs from me, I’ve lived in my apartment for two years but the past 4 months with this guy has been hell. I live in the U.K. and the people that own the building and the police don’t view my situation as anything dangerous or serious, despite the fact I have made numerous complaints and even the other neighbors in my building have complained about him. But he targets me the most and bangs on my door at ungodly hours and threatens the most horrible stuff because I’m a woman living alone. I’m honestly terrified but unless he physically does something there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry for the sob story but usually I always try and just picture Carmy as something comforting to help through this until I can be safe, would it be okay to request something like Carmen finding out about his gf losing sleep and constantly being terrified and deciding to take matters into his own hands, and demanding she moves in with him and helps pack her stuff because he will NOT stand for that shit (again totally 100% okay if you don’t feel comfortable responding)

oh my god anon, I'm so deeply sorry that you have to deal with such a shitty situation, and the fact that you have to wait to be physically attacked before the police can do anything? Fuck the justice system and fuck law enforcement. Don't every feel scared to send a request to make your day or week or fucking month better, it's why I'm here, and the fact that my writing can make you feel even a little better is the greatest gift i could ever ask for. God I just hope you're able to remain safe, call a friend or family to keep them posted in case anything happens, I'm so very sorry honey :(

Broken bones and soup

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: misogyny, violence, feral!carmen makes an appearence, angst, horrible neighbours, angst, teeth rotting fluff, carmy feeding you

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: this was hard to write, i really wanted to do it right by you anon, and when have i ever written carmen without him breaking someones face?

The falling sun encapsulated the cerulean sky, exploding against the horizon in heated shades of orange, crimson and pink. The trail back to your apartment complex wasn’t long, but it gave enough time to bask in the warmth of evenings bathed in sunlight. It also conveniently enabled you to tell yourself you had gotten your sun for the day, rather than having to swallow pills you hated to swallow.

It was muscle memory however, your legs moved with the familiar comfort of the sidewalk, forgetting the stomach turning realisation of what had awaited you back at your apartment. 

It had been a couple months, four maybe 5, you didn’t really want to count the days having a violent neighbour moved in directly down your apartment. The other tenants who you've grown to know collectively bristled with the annoyance of a 30 something year old filling the usual peaceful nights with crashes and yells of broken plates and incoherent obscenities. 

When you had raised the issue to the landlord and even to the police, you had been shut down with a shrug of the shoulders. 

‘We can notice him with a noise complaint, but if he aint hurting anyone we can’t do much’. 

That had made you laugh a little then, before you had been close to bawling your eyes out and ripping out your hair. Sure he was loud, your neighbours from the other side of the apartment complex could attest to that, but it was so much more than loud fucking music, and somehow, you had bared the brunt of his violence. It was targeted, you knew it, and your legs began to shuffle at the thought of coming home to another violent outbursts at your door. 

You hadn't gotten any proper sleep for the past 4 months, waking up to loud banging at your door, and declarations of brutality he whispered through your keyhole. It was all empty threats, those men in clad uniform had told you when you woke up shaking with fear as he screamed taunts of murder from below, you had run out in your pyjamas and bunny slippers and they had told you they couldn't help you. 

There were not empty threats, and this wasn’t the hundreds of true crime shows you had binged, you felt it in your bones, you were a woman living with yourself for god sake, he was going to break down your door one day and hurt you, and you couldn't do anything about it. You felt paralysed by the helplessness of it, forcing yourself to stay up past 12, the burn of your tired eyes forced open by the blue light of your phone, in case he tried breaking in. You had begun to keep a bat near your bed, a knife in the drawer of your bedside, and you felt fucking insane. Noone had made a major problem out of it, and yet you felt like he was one bad day from a murderous rampage.

Carmen could tell something had been wearing on your shoulders, the way your eyes blinked slowly, and the syrup slow movements of your limbs when you had visited the Beef not long ago. You couldn't bear to tell him, your past relationships had taught you enough not to unload all your problems onto another person, but it had gotten bad. You had started getting notices of concern from your boss, asking if you were alright, telling you how your performance had been declining.

You had quickly shut down any looks of concern thrown at you, this was something you had to deal with yourself, you didn’t want anyone, especially another woman to be faced with the brunt of his violence. You guzzled caffeine and energy drinks like it was water, and your limbs jittered with the rush of adrenaline until the peak had dropped and you felt like your stomach was ripping itself apart.

You braced yourself as you turned the corner into your apartment complex, keeping your head down, and going through the carpack to avoid the hallway that was right next to his door. You felt your stomach drop, your keys pressed between your knuckles and you flickered your eyes up to the door of his apartment. You watched it like a hawk, ready to flee at any sign of opening, and when you had finally made it to the elevator, you breathed a sigh of relief like no other. The air suddenly fills your lungs once again.

Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket, and you reached out to grab it, the screen illuminated by Carmen’s text. You felt a tingle of glee shoot through you, biting back a smile at the thought of seeing him today.

“You still coming today for the family dinner?”

The beef had begun a sort of tradition, every last Friday of the month, they would close early and hold a sort of family dinner right out back near the tables and chairs. Everyone of the crew’s family and friends were invited to join, some bringing a plate or a drink or two. It was the highlight of the month, and you hadn't missed a Friday ever since Carmen and you had become something more than close friends.

You typed out a quick reply with a tongue in your cheek, as the elevator doors opened, you didn't look up right away, walking with your head down as you tucked your phone back into your pocket. It was a fault on your end, you should have looked up, at least then you could have braced yourself as your neighbour stood stationed near your door with a cheshire smile stretching ominously across his face. 

You wondered if you could run back into the elevator, but the doors had closed well before and you feared turning your back to him was an even worse fate. You walked towards him, plastering on a smile that didn't look even a little believable.

“Something I can do for you?” You ask, your voice heightened by a mix of fear and false confidence

“Hear you've been complaining about me” The man replies with a smile, his hair slicked back, the shadow of a badly shaven skin spiking up. His shirt reeks of sweat and stains of spilt takeaway and you have to take a tentative step back to escape the stench radiating off of him.

“Yeah, you might not realise it, but you have been a bit- uh loud, and the loud banging on my walls?” You prouch him, and his eyebrows rise in surprise, shaking his head with a laugh that horrified you.

“Am I scaring you?” The man replies 

You swallow as your eyes flicker to his burnt hazel ones, they stare down from above, almost mocking in the way they forced you to answer.

“Uh, uhm- well, a lot of us got work in the morning, and I can’t wake up if you're making a lot of noise during the night”

“Oh, is that right?” The man asks, scratching a hand across his jaw

“Well no one's been the one complaining but you” The man replies

“I don't think so many of us-”

“You saying I’m a liar??” The man suddenly shouts, and you can help yourself stepping back a distance quickly

The man watches the way you distance yourself away from him, his eyes flicker to the keys poking out from between your fingers and he bites back a laugh.

“So you are scared of me, liar.” The man spits out with venom, before stepping towards you, caging you to the wall as he whispers near your ear

“You think fucking keys are going to stop me? A little lady like you living here all by yourself?” The man digs his fingers into your sides, until you howl out and retch yourself away from him, you reach for your right side, holding the skin above your rib cage that had begun to swell and bruise.

“See how easy that was? A fucking pretzel in my hand” The man calls out with a smile, before walking back around the hallway corner with such ease and comfort that told you he knew the police wouldnt do shit.

Your hand shakes as you shove your key into your door, you have to hold your own hand to put it in, before shouldering your way through your door with wince, and dropping your bag and belongings to the floor.

You rush into your bathroom, undressing before your eyes flicker to your mirror, seeing the red rash of irritation and the start of a purple imprint of his claws shoved into the skin below your ribcage. You wince as you try to soothe it, the salty tears breaking down your waterline, you can't stop, the wretched sobs of your helplessness echoing off the bathroom walls.

You climb into the shower, sliding down to the bottom as the tears shake through you, you hug your knees to your chest, letting the warm water combine with your salty tears, so they become one, and you know longer now how terrified you are. You stay in the shower like this for a bit, letting the warmth and steam wiggle your body from its stone encapsulation.

You can hear the familiar jingle of your phone ringing from where you had haphazardly left it, and the memory of today's dinner comes rushing in. You had nearly forgotten, and whilst you were terrified to leave your home and go back into the hallway where it had happened, you couldn't let Carmen down.

So you had gotten up, in the same way you had fallen down, and tried to scrub away the smell of his day-old cigarettes and sweat until your skin burned, poking your head through a clean shirt and a skirt that hid the painful purple splotch that had begun to spread across your side.

Entering your quaint kitchen, you can’t stop your arm as it reaches for the brown liquid stored in that old glass bottle Sugar had told you was a century old. You didn't have a little liquid courage to make it past your goddamn threshold.

You downed it in a gulp, reaching for your bag and a pocket knife, just in case. The reality of that decision broke you a little, when did you start needing to armour yourself?

Your phone buzzed from its position edged between the living room couch, it was Carmen, again, telling you he was outside. Carmen had begun to ceremoniously show up to your apartment as the autumn had begun to bleed into the winter nights, and the sunlight had stretched until darkness hit by 5 in the afternoon. Any other time you would have chastised him till the point where he would stop, but now, with the reality of your neighbour, you felt a relief wash through your body at the thought of being close to him. You also don’t doubt he would have shown up anyway, ignoring your requests in the way he does when he thinks it's his responsibility.

You wouldnt say you had a lot of experience in relationships under your belt, but something spoke to you from within, carmen was something special, this was special, sacred in the way destiny was, and you shooke with the relentless fear of fucking it up. And scaring him away with your problems seemed to be on the very top of that list

You shake the thought from your head as you shut the door quietly, take a brisk pace as you walk but kind of run to the elevator. A neighbour you knew well stood near the doors, his dark auburn hair falling in front of his eyes, he nodded to you with a silent smile. He kept to himself most of the time, and you didn't know much about him, just that he always was tugging a sleeve down his left arm, but he always went out of his way to give you some sort of greeting.

The air between you was silent, as you were waiting for the ping of the elevator to drop to your door, and you heard a shuffling near you, your eyes watching the way he coughed and stared at you from the corner of your peripheral vision.

“Heard something out in the hallway, it wasn’t him again was it?” The man replied, concerned about lacing his features as his eyes seemed to be fixated on the way you leaned on one side of your body a little.

“Uh no, it’s- it’s alright, I guess it was my dues you know? Dealing with a shitty neighbour at least once” You reply with a tight smile, trying to poke fun at the very depressing thought.

The man nodded with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, your neighbours had known that he was loud, knew that you had dealt the worst of it being right above him, but they were clueless to his taunts and threats that he said into your door at night. You think the man next to you had an idea though, the way his eyes scanned anything like he was always assessing, always calculating the world around him. 

It was also because your neighbour was nowhere to be found whenever he was around, you whispered a prayer of thanks that he was taking the elevator down with you, with his sweatpants and top, it was like he knew, a silent nod of protection.

Before you could open your mouth to whisper a thanks, the doors of the elevator had opened, a tired mom and her two energetic kids passed between you both. It was funny, you could see yourself in her, the drag of dark circles and the hunch of her shoulders mirroring your own. 

You knew the very shakily painted on makeup did little to hide the exhaustion on your face and you rushed to enter the elevator to escape the thought. The motion of the elevator moving down nauseated you a little, churning your stomach in the way it always did with motion, but your apartment wasn’t big and soon enough the music of the elevator turned to a halt as the doors opened up to the ground floor.

You could see the headlights of Carmen's car through the automatic doors of your complex, and you gave your neighbour a smile before rushing to jump into the comfort of Carmen and his very, very warm car.

-- -

The car ride to the beef has been silent, just the syrupy beat of jazz from the car speakers and the burn of Carmen’s gaze searing a hole through you, you feared if you caught his eyes and the look in them the entire interaction today would tumble from your tongue.

You couldn’t ruin today, it was tradition, you had just begun to become folded into it. The joy of Tina calling your name for a hug, the talks about the new pastry ideas with Marcus, Sydney’s laughter, it soothes you like a balm, and you were sure the nausea crawling through your stomach would dissipate the second you entered.

But it didn’t, the beautiful lantern lights from outside the Beef glittered against the Chicago moonlight and the smell of Italian meatballs engulfed your senses and you still felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside.

You had said your hellos to everyone, biting back a yelp as Tina’s hand pressed against the bruise on your side, and nodding to Richie’s rambles whilst you felt outside of your own skin.

Your mind kept replaying the scene of him lunging st you, bristling your skin till goosebumps spread through, until your mind was exhausted from fear and well, fucking exhaustion and Carmen had to call your name too many times to rip you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Carmen asks with that soft honey tone he keeps for you.

You nod with a smile, and Carmen’s eyes shift towards your plate untouched. It was your favourite, a twist on Osso Buco and yet it laid un moving, Carmen knew it, you did too, and you held back tears as Carmen simply nodded, not sure if he was overstepping his boundaries.

It was the first lick of the start of something, the both of you, the bloom of a companionship Carmen felt was destined, like it was seared into the sand years before you both had even come into existence. And Carmen was new to this, and that opened up a whole can of worms, he didn’t want to fuck it up, he didn’t want to think about fucking it up, but god did he always seem to fuck it up.

You reached across the table to grab the jar of water, your shirt riding up without you noticing. Tina’s eyes widen at the peek of a purple imprint from under your shirt and she has nearly drops her fucking fork

“Baby? What happened to your side?” Tina replies with concern, her voice is quiet but the tables loud boisterous conversations begin to slow down.

You tug your shirt down, and you burn with guilt like you had been caught with this big secret. Carmen immediately looks towards your side, his eyes scanning the way you since a little as your finger brushes against it.

“Nothing, uh um I fell” You don't even believe yourself

“That looks more than something you get tripping over your feet darling, did something happen?”

“What? What’s she saying honey? What did you see Tina?” Tina’s gaze flutters to Carmen, and there’s a pause like she’s assessing whether it was Carmen’s doing before the reality of who he is hits her. It was ingrained in every woman, and Carmen wouldn’t be an exception. Even for a second.

“Looks like someone’s goddam fist imprinted into her skin” 

The restaurant is completely quiet now, and your head falls to your uneaten plate of veal, they look towards you in concern hearing the end of Tina’s words.

Carmen lifts your shirt, and you don’t stop him, the reality of your attack is shown right there in front of him, the imprint of a large hand bruising purple and blue.

Carmen’s eyes burn into the skin, his fists shaking as he remains silent, the rest of the family look on in horror, whispers of “holy fuck?” and eyes seeing the way Carmen practically vibrates, like he’s a second away from exploding.

“..Who did this?”

“It was my fault- I”

“Who did this baby? Who hurt you?” Carmen replies with an exhaled murmur.

“I’m, uh, Uhm- he- oh Carmen” You can’t get the words out, they’re stuck in your throat and you can’t get them out. You feel trapped, your body is sweating like you’re caged, like you're wading through a current and you're losing yourself to the weight of it, your breakdown on display for the whole world to see.

You blink back tears as Carmen tilts your chin to face him, and the look on his face, the look of distraught and fear that blossoms across his features un tetheres the tightly wrapped self control you had formed.

And Carmen scoops you up into his arms so that the entire family doesn’t have to see you break into his shoulder.

His soothing words are like a balm to your distress and he walks you, bridal style to the first aid cabinet, sitting you down on the counter, wiping away your tears as his fingers shake and his throat bobs with a tight swallow. He hastily tugs your shirt, kissing back the howls of pain as he whispers “I know, I know baby girl, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

His soft fingers press gently against the bruise as he rubs a heating ointment across it, he wraps a warm compress around it as bandage and his eyes are avoiding your own as he focuses his fingers on your skin.

“Carmen?” You whisper, the hiccups of tears resounding from your throat, Carmen reaches for a painkiller, placing it in your palm with a whisper of affirmation, he gently tips your head back as he pours water into your mouth, and you swallow it quickly, before looking back at him.

“Carmen? Please” You reply, had you done it, had you ruined everything?

“I can’t look at you because I fear I might break, and- and I can’t right now okay darling? I have to find, I have to find who did this, and I need to make it right, hm? I need to make sure your safe because god my heart is outside of my chest and I can’t feel anything but fear” Carmen replies with a tight low voice, his fists shake as he pressed them into the counter beside your thighs, but he looks up to meet your gaze anyway, and he smiles tightly as the tears stream down.

“Oh Carmen, this isn't on you, you couldn't have possibly known” You reply, wiping a hand across his cheeks.

“How can you say that? I am your, I am meant to protect you, and you, you come limping in without me noticing, fucking Tina saw it before I could, and i hate myself for it” Carmen replies, his cerulean blues shining bright against the shine of tears.

“Who did this, someone at work? A guy on the street?” Carmen replies and you flick away from his gaze, hand falling to your lap as your tongue burns with the desire to just say it all.

“You've got to tell me baby girl, you have to know I've got to make it right, I won’t sleep till I do. '' Carmen replies with a pained cry, like his heart is breaking from the thought of letting this go un avenged. And it's the tortured look on his face, it's the shake of his limbs like he wants to destroy and burn the entire world around him till he finds whoever has done this that uncurls your tongue and lets everything out in the open.

“What? This has been going on for months? Why didn’t you tell me?” Carmen replies, his thumb rubbing soft circles across your thigh.

“Didn’t want to scare you away Carmen, i love-i I like you a lot, more than I have anyone and I didn't want to fuck it up and unload all my problems onto you like a dumpster” You reply, and it sounds stupid when you say it out loud, and when Carmen looks up at you in disbelieved confusion.

“Huh? Oh sweet girl, I’m meant to help you bear it all, that’s why I'm here, and the idea of you thinking I'll love you any less, that I won't help you because of something like this haunts me. I’m meant to protect you yeah? That’s my fucking job, and I’ve failed it” Carmen replies with a grunt.

“No one has said anything like that to me” You say, eyes looking up to him, you weren't shocked, but you weren't, were not shocked, never had you experienced this, this burning adoration for another person, this soft warmth that burst through you at the sound of Carmen's voice promising his devotion, promising his unyielding protection. It armoured you more than a pocket knife ever could.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to your head, before shuffling around the kitchen, walking back into the dining tables, hushing out replies of ‘she's okay’ before coming back in with your things under his arm.

“What are you doing?” You reply in question, as he slowly picks you up with an arm, and gently places you back down. His eyes are constantly flickering to your side, like he’s torturing himself with the image of the first time he saw the horrific bruise across your side.

He had never felt true fear until then, the shatter of his heart beneath his breast as he realises you had gotten hurt and he didn't even fucking realise. Nothing had mattered but your safety and he scared himself with how much his body shook with a desire to destroy the person responsible.

“I’m driving back to your apartment, where you're going to grab your necessities, whilst I pay a visit to your little neighbour downstairs. You’re staying with me, for however long,” Carmen replies with a sneer, walking you through the back door, which you were all too thankful for, you couldn't bear to see the look on the crew’s faces if you had to walk back in.

“Carmen you can’t” You reply rushed, as Carmen slid you into the passenger seat, before clicking on your seat belt for you. He cocks his head, before raising his eyebrows

“Oh, I can’t? Honey, the police don’t do their job and my baby get’s fucking hurt. Nah, that doesn't work for me” Carmen replies, before rushing to enter the driver's seat, shifting the gear into drive before speeding down the city streets. 

His focused on the road, his face unblinking and he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, you can’t stop looking at him, his gorgeous under the moonlight of the skies, his cheeks crimson from his tears, his cerulean blues calling to you like the sea, and the curl of his blonde hair falling like waves.

The view of your apartment complex comes into your vision as Carmen turns into the carpark in one swift move, you can’t stop the shake of your fingers and Carmen wants to slam his first into the steering wheel when he notices.

“You alright?” Carmen replies “You can stay here, I’ll grab whatever you need”

You want to stay, want to remain in the safety of his sleek tinted windows, but you want to face it too, and somehow that need is more important, he doesn’t get to win, no fucking way.

You unclip your seat belt, opening the door as you turn to him “You going to show me how you protect me or what?”

Carmen bites back a smile, god he was so fucking proud. He could tell you were scared shit less, and yet you fought through that fear, and god you mesmerised him. You were stronger than he could ever be, and he wanted to take that burden from you, carry it himself so you didn't have to.

Carmen jogs to the back of the car, reaching into the boot before the clunk of wood on gravel meets your ears. Carmen nods towards you, as he grips a bat under his arm

“He puts a bruise on you and i break all his fucking bones” Carmen replies, and you can’t stop the joy that image brings you

Carmen walks you to your apartment, waiting outside like a hawk, his bat tight against his grip as he watches the hallways, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you feel infinitly and utterly safe.

You throw your toiletries into a bag, grabbing a few nights of clothes and your work shoes. You eyes flicker around your apartment, it had been home to you for the past 4 years, and yet it felt so foreign to you now, you had grown to attest this place, this place you had filled with so much of yourself, and you hate him so much at that moment, for making you feel this way about a place you had once loved.

You leave your apartment with the door shut closed.

Carmen carries your bag and places them back into the back seat of the car, and as he begins to walk towards the apartment of your neighbour you reach a hand out to stop him.

“Honey, I’ve got to-” Carmen begins before you shut him quickly

“I want to watch” You reply quietly, and Carmen’s eyes flicker, before lacing his fingers into yours, as you both knock on his door.

There's a grumble before the clank of a chain slides open, and his face appears as the door opens to him, you can see the illuminated light of his TV glaring, the floor covered with pizza boxes and beer cans. You see in real time, how his face morphs from anger into fear, his eyes dropping as he sees the way Carmen practically shakes, and the man isn’t able to let out a word, a protest or wail of a plea before the crack of Carmen's wooden bat swings through the air.

-- -

“Are you sure he isn't dead?” You reply, as you dip a washcloth into warm water, wiping away the blood across Carmen’s neck

“He isn’t going to die if I wasn’t the one causing it, besides, if he does, that’s God finishing off the rest of it”. Carmen replies, raising his face so that you cleaned the last of the streaks of blood splattered across his jaw.

Carmen reaches for your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of them as he looks at you in that way like he yearns for you to be closer. 

“You need sleep, but first you need to eat, yeah?” Carmen replies, shushing your protests and he carries you to his room in his arms, after he notices the exhaustion in your limbs. It’s dark, illuminated only by the wall to ceiling windows that look into the busy city streets and light up sky scrapers. 

The sheets are strewn across the bed, haphazard like Carmen had rushed to get them off of him in the early mornings. Carmen slides you into them, tucking you within the soft pillowy blanket, sitting on the edge as he caresses your cheek softly.

He leaves for a moment, rushing to make you something to eat, his skin crawling with a need to feel you against him, nearly tripping over himself as he walks back into his room with a bowl of soup and a bottle of water.

Carmen sits next to you again, pressing spoonfuls of soup into your mouth and wiping the edges ceremoniously as you rest against the headboard half asleep. 

You don’t notice the way he looks at you, like he's trying to memorise every dip and curve of your face, his fingers clutching the spoon tight like he’s going to break if he doesn't hold you against him.

“Honey?” Carmen replies hushed

“Hmh?” You reply, your eyes heavy as the comfort of Carmen's warmth spreads through you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, you tell me everything okay? Everything” Carmen replies pained, like the events that transpired somehow still were not resolved, like breaking the man's legs wasn't enough for him.

“Okay” You reply, and Carmen places the dishes onto the bedside table, leaving it to the morning because he can't keep you away from him any longer.

Carmen joins you in the bed, the left side of his bed finally taken by somebody for the first time in a long time. Tugging you against him, Carmen curls your body to lay against his chest, his fingers softly gracing your back, soft circles that had begun to lull you to a sleep you hadn’t felt in months, years even.

The beat of Carmen's heart joins with yours, together and entwined like how it was always meant to be, why had Carmen waited so long? Why had he let time pass without you tucked under him, safe within his arms and away from all the horrors of the world.

It’s only when Carmen notices the shift in your breathing, falling into a soft exhale before he even lets the whispers of sleep grip him within its grasps, his shoulders finally release from its tensed state once he knows you've finally fallen into a sleep that had been kept from you.

“You don’t know how much I love you baby girl, it fucking scares me, but I’ll keep reminding you until infinity if I have to, until you know it deep down like I do” Carmen mumbles out, his eyes falling heavy and you grips you against his chest.

You don’t really know how, but even between the state of sleep and consciousness, you hear him, and you whisper between the space in your bodies, that you already do.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste. 

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle,  but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

~

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

~

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[asilentandkindersea]

carmen “my gf is bisexual and she choses me ? not some dickhead, me ! you bet i’m gonna workship that ass.” berzatto idea is in my notes bYE.

[only-one-brain-cell]

Headcannon that Sydney calls Carmy My Bear

[jamietheangel]

Made this today

Love you buzz cut Jeremy Allen white 🫶 he looks so white trash in a way that so heavily appeals to me

[aceofsages]

slowly losing my mind over The Bear

(again.)

[emotionoitme]

don’t call my name

don't call my name - skinshape

warnings: roommate trope, pervy carmy, like this man needs to get a grip, sexual tension & sexual innuendo, yearning as always, nudity and some steaminess, alcohol (its one drink), some dirty touches and lots of teasing + dirty talking lol, future smut (freaky), no use of y/n or you

wc: 8.6k

a/n: new 3-PART SERIES!! hiiii i’m sorry i’ve been awol for so long but s3 has sent me into a feral frenzy and thats what motivates me to write for carmy <3 he kind of pissed me off this season but i’m horny for him anyways so enjoy!!  (from the same horny silly mind as “about a girl”)

series masterlist

playlist (updates with each chapter)

fucking inflation.

carmen berzatto would rather die than try and find a roommate.

with chicago’s residential rent quadrupling, he found it increasingly stressful balancing monthly apartment payments with the nonstop financial demand of owning a restaurant. 

if it wasn’t fixing the walk in fridge, it was fixing the gas line that had a leak. not to mention staffing, fancy dishware, food cost, utilities. the bear was a big up and coming success in the community, but he was damned if it didn’t take a lot of money to keep a restaurant running. 

it wouldn’t have been so stressful all on its own, either, not if his new fuckhead landlord didn’t send all the tenants a yellow slip informing them of the $2500 monthly increase in rent. 

the place was nice—he recently made a decision that was long deliberated, moveing from his small, admittedly humble apartment complex to a “luxury unit”. 

he found it to be quite an adjustment. It was newer, and much nicer than what carmy was used to. the place was fully furnished and had two-levels connected by floating stairs, as well as tall windows that reached the ceiling and illuminated the space with natural light. 

it was a gorgeous place, but the sudden increase in rent did nothing more than fuel the disdain that he had accumulated for landlords over the years. 

so, came to terms with the fact that he would have to either deal with the hassle of moving out, cut into the restaurant’s budgeting, or the dreaded third option. finding a roommate. 

the stress plagued his mind all night as he tried to sleep, tossing and turning over his pillow. 

someone to share a small space with, quarrel over messes with, debate over rent share with. not to mention he had grown accustomed to small freedoms like cooking in the middle of the night or walking around naked. 

there was also the fact that he had been lonely recently, succumbing to sexual frustrations that reminded him all too well of being a teenager again. it had crept up on him slowly, the urge to hold another person again. to be touched by someone else. 

he had been so worked up, he was being plagued by wet dreams. it was like being back in middle school for the man. finding himself waking up face down in the bed, clutching a pillow he had drooled on with a throbbing erection in his boxers. finding himself rutting his hips against the mattress to try and alleviate some of the pressure that had built up in his body. a thin sheen of sweat covered him as he felt increasingly hot. maybe he would want to bring someone home in the near future, and how would that work with a roommate? what a fucking nightmare. 

he bit into the pillow and let out a soft groan as he continued to slowly rock his hips against the mattress. 

he slid his hand down, fingers tucking into his boxers and wrapping around his erection. the dream had felt so real while he was asleep, recalling soft skin beneath his fingertips, recalling himself posessively gripping this skin as a hot, wet tightness engulfed his cock. he nuzzles his face further into the pillow as he pumps his hand softly over his length.

the lack of anything romantic or sexual in his life was probably for the best. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss it. 

carmen brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm and shoving his boxers down to slick himself up. it felt as if a white heat was beginning to surge through his body, unaccustomed to the touch. 

he had been so busy, wound so tightly. he began rutting his hips to meet his hand, releasing a low moan into the pillow. it was like the dream had gotten him almost completely to the finish line, feeling overwhelmingly sensitive from the brief touches. his other hand gripped at his comforter as he felt himself coming up on an orgasm, muscles tensing, mouth falling open.

the sharp blare of his phone ringing right next to his ear caused him to jump, ripping his hand out from his boxers and sitting up. it took him a second to orient himself, heart pounding and breaths labored.

he felt his skin heat with anger as his eyes darted over to the screen to see an unknown number. 

another four seconds and he would have been blissfully falling over the edge he hadn’t fallen over in a long time. 

he hurriedly shoved the phone up to his ear. 

“what?” he snapped into the line, patience wearing incredibly thin. the receiving end was quiet for a beat, before a woman’s voice hesitantly responded. 

“hi…um, i was calling about the listing for the unit on maple… is this the right number?” 

carmy ran a hand over his face, resting his forehead in his hand. the pent up tension began to partially subside, mind now focusing on his sustained issue of finding a roommate. 

“no, yeah. uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat, “this is carmen.”

“oh. hi,” the girl’s voice responded, sounding slightly surprised. she relayed her own name, as he found himself closing his eyes and tuning into the sound of her voice. 

“i saw your ad in the tribune, and i’m kind of in a rough spot right now with my shithea- sorry, my landlord increasing the rent. i only need a place for a few months before i go back to the west coast.” 

he let himself chuckle at her correction, hand falling to the blanket above his erection. 

“yeah,” he responded, “i’m, uh, all too familiar with shithead landlords. that’s why i put the ad out in the first place. my rent is fuckin’ going up 2500 bucks.” hearing a small gasp resonate through the line at this.

“so i take it you’re not…totally enthusiastic about getting a roommate?” she questioned with a laugh.

something inside his stomach fluttered at the sound of her laugh. enough to feel a twitch from under the blanket. 

god damn, was he wound tightly. 

“no- i’m… well, yes, but-“ he exhales, “i guess it just has to be a good fit. i’m used to living alone.” 

the girl lets out a hum of agreement. 

“well, when can i meet you, carmen? test out how well you…fit?” 

he had to stifle a groan at this, a dull, aching throb coming from beneath his covers. he palmed his hand over the clothed hardness. he didn’t even know what this girl looked like and somehow she was eliciting a response from him. he made a mental note to try and get laid over the next week. even if it was just a shitty one night stand. anything to alleviate this ferocity he felt. 

“yeah, um,” he responds, slightly horse “i’m actually taking the day off tomorrow, so, then?” 

the girl giggled again. 

“wow, lucky you, taking off work on a sunday?” she teased. he takes his hand off his clothed erection and runs his hand through his unruly curls.

“yeah, i, uh, work in a restaurant. so it really is lucky…” dread filled his stomach at the thought of playing catch-up come monday. hopefully the staff would work smoothly enough to accommodate his absence. 

“i’m really the lucky one,” she responds, “the sooner i can end my lease, the better. and you’re the first actual response i’ve gotten all week.” a pause. “can i come by tomorrow morning and check the place out?” 

carmy’s eyes flickered towards his open bedroom door, acknowledging the cleaning he would have to squeeze in today. 

“yeah, the, uh…. the morning works” he responded. 

“i won’t be interrupting anything, right?” she asked. 

his eyes glanced down to the hardened outline under his sheets. 

“no,” he rested his head back against the wall, “no, i’m open. come at 9? unit 407.” 

“okay, yeah. i’ll be there. bye, carmen” she sweetly chimed. 

he let out a breath as the phone disconnected. this woman could’ve been anyone, yet something about the way she said his name sent a wave of heat through his body. he glanced back down at his hardness, then at the clock. 

“fuck” he exhaled, denoting the limited time he had before he had to be at the resturaunt. he ran a hand over his face before throwing the covers off of him and forcing himself out of bed. he readjusted the tent of his boxers and walked downstairs and into the kitchen. fuck this rent increase. he loved living alone. 

carmen downed a glass of water, allowing some of the cool liquid to spill onto his bare chest. he told himself he dreaded the next morning when he would meet the woman who called him, regardless of how his body responded to the sound of her voice. 

he definitely wasn’t lonely, curious, or excited to see what she would be like. 

fuck having a roommate.

he bent down to strip himself of his boxers, leaving them on the floor as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower. he drew back the curtain and let the water hit him without warming up. 

what about being able to come home at any hour of the night? or stashing his jeans in the oven? no longer would he be comfortable succumbing to freedoms as simple as jerking off on the couch. 

so because of that, carmen would rather die than try and find a roommate. 

or, at least that’s what he had thought initially. 

by no means did he expect his old fashioned newspaper ad to bring her. 

his first thought was that she was beautiful, and he found himself drinking in the sight of her as if he were a man lost in a desert and she was a cool blue pond. 

she was younger, he guessed early twenties, and cute. carmen had never considered himself the type of guy who had a type, but that split second after which he had opened the door made him rethink that prior assumption.

it also didn’t help that she had shown up in a tiny skirt and a long sleeved shirt that was so fucking tight he could see the perk of her nipples through the fabric. and what could he say to defend himself? at the end of the day he was just a man. 

the first genuine thing he noticed, however, was her smile, alongside a mischievous glint in her eyes, which he was immediately enamored with. it was like opening the door and being completely blindsided, resulting in an awkward first few seconds as they stood staring at each other. the girl expectantly waited for him to invite her inside. he hadn't even realized that she had already greeted him and he was just starting back at her dumbfoundedly. 

“uh. sorry,” he broke the silence, “hi. it’s nice to meet you” he stuck out his hand. 

she gave him a warm smile and reached out to shake his hand. 

“so nice to meet you, carmen.” 

her hand was soft. and he liked the way it seemed to disappear in his. she pulled it back sooner than he would’ve liked. he reciprocated her small smile. 

“carmy is fine,” he stepped to the side “come on in.”

he watched as her eyes scanned down his face, to his lips, neck, chest, before glancing back up. 

he could’ve sworn her cheeks colored a bit as she stepped inside and began to have a look around. 

the girl slowly made her way through the living room, running her hand along the soft backing of the couch, glancing over the various cook books stacked upon the coffee table. carmy watched her from behind as she sauntered into the kitchen, averting his eyes after tracing up the span of her bare leg, disappointed when his gaze met fabric. 

stop being such a fuckin’ perv, he internally scolded himself. he took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his front pockets, continuing to walk forward, eyes burning a hole into the cabinets of the kitchen. anywhere but on her. 

the girl placed her hands on the granite countertops, leaning over to examine even more cookbooks, these ones with sticky notes decorating the pages. the sweet, light smell of perfume prompted carmen to look forward, realizing he had gotten closer to the girl than he meant to. she sensed his presence and turned around, letting out a small gasp at the close proximity. her eyes darted up and locked with his. 

carmen felt the eye contact send a shockwave through his body as he unintentionally towered over her. 

her eyes fell to his lips momentarily and he felt his jaw clench as he watched her part her mouth and let out a soft breath. the girl ripped her eyes away from his lips, begrudgingly bringing them back up to meet his. 

“can you take me to the bedroom?” she asked him. carmy blinked, heart pounding in his chest, not sure if he heard her right. 

“wh- what?” he choked out. her eyebrows slightly creased, head tilting. 

“the room where i’d stay? can i see it?” 

his eyes shut tightly, then snapped back open. hand coming up to run through his hair. 

jesus, get a grip, man. obviously she wasn’t asking you to take her to the bedroom so you could fu-

“yeah-”’ he sighed, “yeah, of course.” carmy spun on his heel, leading her back through the living room and up the stairs. 

“it’s a beautiful place,” she complimented, “a lot nicer than where i’m at right now.” 

the top floor looked over the living room, branching off into a hallway with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. 

“yeah, uh, to be honest, it’s a lot… fancier than what i’m usually used to.” carmy led her past his room into the vacant space, empty except for a king sized mattress. 

“the, uh, mattress is yours if you want it. if you already have one, i’ll get it out of here.” he turned to glance at the girl, who had wide eyes, “won it in a stupid…sweepstakes thing my cousin signed me up for.” 

he doesn’t mention that richie had signed him up to make fun of him, telling carmen that a new mattress might help him get laid since nothing else seemed to work.

her gaze met his and a big smile grew on her face. she walked to the edge of the bed, then turned to lay on it, sprawling her arms out. 

“wow,” she exhaled, “you live the life of luxury over here carmy,” a big smile still on her face as she stretches out. he ignores the way her skirt creates a perfect triangular gap between her thighs, revealing a glimpse of white lacy fabric.

okay, maybe he doesn’t ignore it. 

“so?” she asks. he rips his gaze upwards, finding her sitting up on the bed, eyes meeting his, “is it a good fit?” she had a small smirk on her face, crossing one leg over the other, slightly leaning back. 

he liked the way she gazed up at him, chin tilting up towards him to expose more of her neck. his eyes raked down the flesh of her neck, wondering what it would be like to sink his teeth into it. to make her yelp. to mark her. 

“yeah,” he softly responds, feeling his mouth dry, eyes scanning over her face, “i, uh, i think we can make it fit.”

carmy watches as her eyelids flutter slightly at this, chest expanding with a deep inhale. he could’ve sworn she pressed her thighs together, lip coming to catch between her teeth. 

“okay,” she breathed, the two of them almost in a trance as they stared at each other. he was the first to break the eye contact, clearing his throat and taking a few steps away from the bed. 

“you’re, um… free to move in whenever you’d like,” he tells her, fixing his eyes on the wall as he warms under the unmistakable feeling of her gaze. 

she’s here to find a place to live, he tells himself, not get eyefucked by some stranger. 

regardless, he feels her continue to watch him. he hears her boots click against the flooring as she stands from her position on the bed, walking over to the glass door leading to a shared balcony. outside, the door that connected to his room was just a few feet down from hers. 

he follows her as she walks out, watching her place her hands on the railing and take a deep breath. it was fresh out, the nostalgic smell of a crisp autumn morning. 

“it’s a beautiful area,” she quietly observes, noting the proximity of a park. the dense line of trees provided a bit of privacy for the balcony, but the bustle of passerbys were still visible down below. he hummed in agreement, watching as the balmy breeze tousled her hair. she had a serene look on her face, but she seemed far away. 

“you’re, uh, from the west coast?” he asked, trying to strike up a form of conversation. the glaze over her eyes remained as she followed the sight of a woman pushing a baby stroller through the park. 

“yeah,” she breathed out, “san diego. moved here for a work but my, uh….my mom isn’t doing so well. so i’m going back before christmas.” 

carmen notices the twitch of her lip, gaze still fixed on the woman pushing the stroller. 

“i’m, uh, i’m sorry to hear that,” he responds softly. her gaze breaks away as the woman disappears into the tree line. she meets his eyes and gives him a small smile

“don’t be. we have a…complicated relationship,” she let out a small laugh, nervously looking to the side. 

“yeah, i, uh… i know how that goes,” he admits, “trust me.” 

her smile warmed at this, eyes coming back to scan his face. 

“i hope it’s okay that i’d be here so short term,” she offers. he nods his head. 

“i really just need someone for the first couple months. until i decide whether i want to end my lease or, uh, cough up the extra money,” he reassures with a small smile. 

“well, in that case, i look forward to rooming with you, carmy,” she gleams, pushing herself away from the railing and turning to face the door. he opens it for her, watching as she walks back into the room and takes in the stark emptiness. 

“can i bring some stuff by today?” she asks sweetly, “decorate a little?” 

he nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her copy of the key, handing it to her. 

“you live here now, so go crazy,” smiling at the squeal of excitement she let out. unexpectedly, the girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around carmen. he was a bit stunned, but reciprocated, letting his arms engulf her, a hand resting on her lower back. 

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” she beamed, leaning into him. 

“don’t mention it. really” a smile graced his face, the smell of her hair sweet. he would’ve kept hugging her for a while if it was up to him. 

she pulled away, touching his forearm as she did so. 

“i promise i won’t go too crazy. i noticed you have the place pretty….minamalist.”

he let out a small laugh at this. 

“yeah, i’m…not much of a decorator,” he confessed, “my apartments have always been pretty boring.” 

“sounds like you need a woman’s touch?” she asked, giving him an innocent smile. his brain stuttered for a minute, eyes flickering down her face to her lips. he really did need a woman’s touch. but that’s obviously not what she meant.

“yeah,” he cleared his throat “yeah, definitely.” 

she let out a small giggle, “okay. i’ll be back in a few hours.”  

-

as the door slammed behind her, the girl released an exacerbated breath, running her hands through a mess of hair. she made her way through the complex, pressing the elevator button. 

her cheeks felt hot—her whole body felt hot, actually. what the fuck did she get herself into? to make a commitment to a roommate was one thing, to make a commitment to one that was so offensively hot was just stupid. 

he had caught her completely off guard, too. she had only heard carmen as a woman’s name, so the phone call came as a bit of a shock, the meeting an even bigger one. 

she knew she would have to stay away from him, roommate are strictly off limits. 

do not make a move, do not make a move, do not make a move!

it would make everything so complicated, and all she really needed was a place to stay for a few months. but these words she repeated like a mantra did nothing to take away from the fact that she wanted him, bad. from the second he opened the door and she stared into his strikingly blue eyes. from when she raked her eyes down his body, taking in the way his pecs strained against his shirt, tattoos decorating his muscular, capable arms. she was so warm when he wrapped himself around her, hands settling on her lower back…she just wished they had gone lower, touched her more. 

he smelled so fucking good, too, when they had hugged. the smell of his deodorant made her a little dizzy, and gave her a dull ache between her legs. 

the ding of the elevator made her jump, disrupting her thoughts as she stepped through the open doors.

why did she flirt with him so much? she prayed he didn’t think she was a desperate weirdo—it had just been so long since she had been satisfied in that way. and as she sat on the bed, and he stood looking down at her hungrily as if he wanted to dominate her, she quickly decided that she would’ve let him. 

the heat of her skin did not relent, so she began gathering her hair atop her head, molding it into a bun and securing it with a hair tie. 

she had a few hours to take a cold shower, get it together, and call the movers to load up her boxes.

it would be fine, she told herself. everything would work out as long as she didn’t make a move. and carmen seemed gentlemanly enough to reciprocate, minus the few glances she saw him sneak of her. 

she promised herself to not act on the urges. and to her credit, she didn’t. for a while, at least. 

it wasn’t until tonight, about four weeks after moving in, that things started to get complicated. 

it was easy, at first, to resist the flirting and the tension—mostly because carmen was never home.

he left before she woke up and only returned back after she had gone to sleep. that was the cost of being a michelin star chef though, which she had found out not from him, but from a curious google search about his restaurant. 

she decided to confront him about this, curious why he was so humble about such a title. he responded along the lines of a nonchalant, “i didn’t think it mattered.” 

he was a tough person to gauge—always seeming so lost within his own head. the girl felt as if she couldn’t get a good read on him, which was an unusual feeling for her. 

there were moments, however, when it seemed as if she would break down a wall, illuminating herself in a stream of light from within him.

one of those moments was tonight, coming home from dinner with coworkers. she usually would just opt to go straight home after working overtime, but her boss insisted on a get-together to celebrate the end of their project. having to socialize with coworkers after hours was entirely draining, and she was more than ready to be home. 

it was cold and dark, after 10 o’ clock—not that she took notice. the streets shone with the rain of a passed storm, reflecting the light of the street lamps in a blurry haze.

the girl took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the muggy post-rain sweetness of the october air. the walk allowed her to clear her mind a bit, taking notice of the perpetual heat that burned within her. 

god, she needed to blow off some steam. her hand came to thread through her hair, mind flashing to carmen. 

it had been so long since she was with a man—almost forgetting how it felt entirely. how it felt to be kissed, to be touched…how it felt to be full. she let out a small breath at this thought. she wondered if he was well endowed, or on the smaller side? if he was shaved or natural? if he had a curvature to him? circumcised or uncir-

“jesus christ,” she exhales, “i need to get a grip,” the reminder out loud seemed to cut her thoughts short, at least for the most part, as she approaches their building.

she makes her way inside and navigates up to their floor, unlocking the door to their unit, eyebrows furrowing as she took notice of the multiple lights on. she supposes that she had forgotten to turn them off, mentally chastising herself before locking the door behind her and setting her bag and keys down. 

it felt good to be home, stripping off her blazer and making her way to the kitchen. 

she opens the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with ice. then she pulls a cold ginger beer and lime out of the fridge to make herself a drink. the vodka came a little heavy handed, only partially on accident. 

she takes a long sip before making her way over to and up the stairs. she follows the dark hallway to her room, where she puts on some music and cracks the window to let the rainy breeze pour in. 

the girl hums along gently to the music as she stands in front of her mirror and begins to strip her clothes off. she admires her physique as the alcohol begins to quickly initiate a pleasant buzz. 

the girl leaves her bra and underwear on, admiring the delicate lace that adorned the curvature of her body. her eyes fall onto the candles on her dresser, deciding that a hot bubble bath would help melt the day away. so she takes another sip and walks to the bathroom, continuing to hum the song that reverberates through the speaker. she sways her hips to the music as she walks, even adding a little twirl to help lighten her mood. 

as she goes to grab the bathroom’s knob to twist, it begins to turn on its own, the sudden realization making her heart drop to her stomach all too late. 

the door swings open and the girl finds herself face to face with a shirtless carmen, hair wet and skin dewy with water droplets.

she stumbles back slightly and his strong hands grab the sides of her arms. out of instinct she places her free hand on his chest, the drink she holds splashes a few drops out onto her hand. she steadies herself, cheeks flushing. 

“fuck, carm, i- i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were…” she trails off with a deep breath, her eyes darting down his chiseled chest, to his abdomen, to the deep cut v of his pelvis, down to the tuft of dark hair peaking out from beneath the edge of the towel. 

well, that answered one of her questions.

the girl tears her eyes away from the arousing sight, bringing them up to meet his own. she watches as his own eyes drag down her scantily clad form, hearing him deeply exhale before bringing his eyes back up to meet hers. 

his blue gaze had a dark glint as he intensely stared down at her, his lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, as if he couldn’t fully rationalize the predicament they were in. 

she could smell the fresh scent of his body wash, the sharp cleanness of his deodorant. it makes her lean closer unintentionally, eyes droop slightly and lips part as she feels her body heat up. 

he was incredibly firm underneath her fingertips, sturdy and strong, and still a bit damp from his shower. she would’ve kept touching him too, but his hands fall from her arms, taking a small step back, snapping his eyes shut tightly and rubbing his forehead with his hand. 

“shit, i-uh, i’m sorry,” he forces out in a strangled voice, eyes glancing towards the ceiling as if to avoid the temptation that stood in front of him. 

“n-no, my fault, really. i-… i didn’t realize you were home yet,” she forces out, feeling the flush of embarrassment from her cheeks, crossing her arms over her chest to provide some modesty. she leans against the door frame.

“i was gonna take a hot bath. rough day,” she elaborates as a bit of an afterthought. he deeply inhales and his eyes trail back down to her before noticing the glass she was holding. 

“yeah?” he asks, “what are y’drinking?” he nudges his head forward, gesturing to the cup.

her eyes dart down to the glass, droplets of condensation cool against her fingers. 

“um… moscow mule,” she confesses softly, small smile creeping onto her lips, “wanna try?” she offers. 

he gives her a grin, reaching out for the drink. she tries to ignore how his fingers brush over her own. 

carmen brings the glass to his lips and takes a decently long sip, eyebrows furrowing as the bitterness graces his tongue, swallowing harshly. 

“shit, that’s strong,” smile on his face as he coughs lightly. she bursts out into giggles, throwing her head back. 

“it was on accident,” she fibs. 

he raises his eyebrow at this, which makes her laugh harder. he feels himself grin at the sight, not sure he’s ever seen her smile so big. it’s pretty, he thinks. really fuckin’ pretty. 

“it’s good, though,” he praises, handing it back. 

“want one?” she questions, leaning forward a bit, glass coming back up to press to her lips. carmy fixates on the sight for a moment, on her supple and sweet looking lips, before lightly clearing his throat. 

“yeah, i’d, uh… i’d love one.”

the girl flashes him another sweet smile, turning on her heel and walking out of the bathroom. 

“i’ll meet you downstairs then,” she chimes. as she leaves, carmen slides his eyes down her form, admiring her toned back and tracing down the alluring indentation of her spine. his gaze very quickly falls to her ass, clad in a cheeky cut of lace, watching as it slightly bounces in tandem with her steps. his breath catches, feeling himself harden beneath his towel, face heating as a throbbing sensation begins to come on.

he begins to follow her, finding himself so distracted by the sight that he almost follows her all the way into her bedroom, only snapping out of it when he sees her start to unclip her bra. 

he abruptly stops and turns to walk to his own room, taking a few deep, slow breaths once he gets. there. his hands come to rest on his hips, gazing down at the tented cloth of the towel before walking to his dresser to grab a large black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. as he slides into them, he checks in the mirror to make sure the shirt hung over his hips to cover his very apparent arousal. 

he makes his way downstairs, hearing soft music play from the kitchen. a song with guitar. pretty, but sounded kind of sad. 

his roommate stands at the kitchen island, garnishing his finished drink with a few mint leaves. she wears a silky bathrobe, her hair clipped up messily. she smiles up at him as he came to the counter, ice clinking against the cold copper mug as she hands it to him. 

“you didn’t make yours in copper?” he asks after giving a soft thanks.

“i’m not an award winning chef,” she rebuts, “i wanted to make sure it was up to your standards,” a slight smile on her lips as she teases him. 

he grins, giving a small roll of his eyes before bringing the drink up for a sip. his eyes widen. 

“shit. this- this is good,” he compliments sincerely, taking another drink. 

“thank you, chef,” she beams. he gives her a smile and a nod, trying to ignore how much he enjoyed hearing the name come from her. 

“by the way,” she continues, “you act very humble, but i think it's really impressive for you to own a restaurant so young.” 

he sets his cup down on the granite. her compliment makes his ears feel warm. 

“it’s, uh…. thank you. we’re still trying to find our rhythm, y’know? but it’s coming together. slowly,” he underplays. the girl nods, taking another sip of her drink. 

“did you always know you wanted to be a chef?” she inquires, leaning over the countertop onto her forearms. carmen had trouble processing her question, too distracted by the view provided from the low-hanging fabric of her loosely tied robe. 

she notices his eyes wander and her skin heats under his gaze. she pushes her chest out slightly, having little clue why she was entertaining this crush of hers.

“sorry, what?” his reply comes a bit delayed. she gives a soft giggle.

“did you always want to be a chef? or did someone inspire you?” she notices the way his face drops ever so slightly. 

“i, uh… i’ve wanted to be a chef for a long time. and uh, i think my brother probably had a big part in inspiring me,” he pauses, and she nods. 

“that’s sweet,” a smile on her face, “only the truly inspired go on to own a restaurant.”

“yeah, he uh…he actually left his restaurant to me. used to be a sandwich shop. my dad owned it, then…left it to mikey.” his eyes drift to the skin of her neck, landing on a dainty necklace. 

“are you two close?” she asks, heat from her hands causing the ice of her drink to melt and shift, clinking against the glass. 

he pauses again, unsure of how to approach this, his glazed eyes giving him away a bit. she breaks the silence. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to pry-”

“-no, no, it’s…it’s fine,” he interjects, “mikey actually…he died two years ago. he, uh… he killed himself.” his tone softened.  

carmy wasn’t sure why he was opening up so much, revealing far more than he usually did when people asked questions about mikey. when he met her eyes again, she had a sorrowful look on her face. 

“fuck, carm, that’s-… i��m so sorry for your loss,” she tells him with genuinity. 

“it, uh….” he goes to brush it off like he usually does, but he can’t bring himself to do it as he looks into her eyes. he swallows. 

“thank you.” he says sincerely, giving a small nod. his throat begins to burn, and he looks away. 

he had to break the news to plenty of people before this, so he wasn’t sure why this time felt so different. but it did. 

“he’d be really proud of you, you know,” she tells him after a moment, “you’re doing a good fuckin’ job.” 

carmen meets her eyes again when she says this, and just stares at her for a moment. his chest flutters at the praise, and his slow manual breaths do nothing to stop the heavy pounding of his heart. 

“i, uh,” he rasps, swallowing before continuing, “thank you. i appreciate it,” he says, “really.” 

the girl gives him a sweet smile and nods before coming to stand up straight. she sinches the string of her robe around her waist. 

“i think i’m gonna go take my bath now.”

“enjoy,” he tells her, small smile on his face. she moves around the edge of the counter, sweetly running her hand over his arm as she walks away. 

carmen knows this is just a friendly gesture, yet he still feels goosebumps rise on his skin following her touch. he hears her humming softly as she walks up the stairs.

-

there was nothing that a hot bath wouldn’t fix. especially coupled with some extensive self care, it would prove to be a form of therapy to the girl time and time again. she feels entirely satisfied, except for the fact that the final product that would seal the night in has gone missing. 

on the walk to her room, she glances at carmen’s wide open door. his light was off, but she could hear quiet music coming from the room. 

she approached, softly knocking on the door frame.

“hey carm, have you seen a little black container anywhere? it’s my lip mask” she leans against the opening, and takes a minute to admire the way he reclines on the bed, arms behind his head, black shirt laying on the floor.

he turns his head, taking in the image of her glowy skin, gracefully illuminated by the light of the hallway, loosely covered by the same silky, short bathrobe. 

“yeah, i uh, think i saw it in the downstairs bathroom,” he offers. 

she takes a small step into the room, turning her head to the small TV on his dresser. she watches for a minute before gasping. 

“no way,” she lets out a small laugh, “this used to be one of my favorite movies growing up.”

“for real?” he smiles. 

“hell yeah. you have good taste carmy.”

he scans his eyes over her form as she watches the screen. 

“yeah, i guess i do.”

she brings her gaze back to meet his, tilting her head. carmen felt emboldened by the double-shot drink she fixed him, keeping his eyes locked with hers. 

“wanna watch with me?” he invites. 

she smiles, pausing for a moment, bringing her finger to her lips as if she was deliberating. he finds this endearing, and enthusiastically watches as she saunters to his bed and crawls on. 

carmy sits up onto his forearms, head resting back against the headboard, shifting to make room for her to scoot in next to him. and she does, sitting upright with her knees to her chest, closer than he thought she would’ve, side of her thigh resting against his arm. she smells incredible, and carmen feels an overwhelming, almost primal magnetism towards the girl.

his eyes are fixated on the screen, but he doesn’t register the movie at all. all he can focus on is the smell of her and the warmth of her body pressed against his. 

about 30 minutes into their shared viewing, the girl releases a big yawn, shuffling down to rest her head on the stacked pillows, continuing to watch the movie but feeling her eyes grow heavier by the minute. carmen’s bed was comfy, and she could help but fall into a light slumber.

he doesn’t even notice until he softly laughs at one of the scenes, and she stays silent, soundly dozing. in that moment he’s graced with the rare opportunity to lovingly study her face. his eyes trail over her eyebrows, her cheeks, rosy from her bath, some soft freckles scattered about. he studies the slope of her nose and plush of her lips, then folds his arms behind his head and goes back to watching the movie, his own eyes feeling a bit heavy. 

carmen feels the girl shift, assuming she was waking up. instead, she slings an arm over him, face nuzzling into his chest. when he surprisedly turns to face her, he finds her eyes still shut. every bit of focus he had accumulated prior vanished, now only being able to feel the hammering in his chest, the warmth of her body against his—the way her hand splays across his bare skin. 

he just focuses on his breathing. 

not much more time had passed before she snuggles even closer, hoisting a leg up over him. he stays completely still as to not disturb her sleep, even though his arms pinned behind his head were beginning to feel like static.

the man silently marvels at how well she fit against him, slowly shutting his eyes as he feels her nuzzle her face further into him. 

carmy begins to doze off, noise from the movie droning in the background, darkness of the room enveloping the two. 

they stay that way for another hour, peace only broken at the shrill of carmen’s ringtone that pierces through the silence. 

he feels her startle, grabbing on to him a bit tighter. his arm instinctively comes to wrap around her, hand resting on her back as he reaches over to grab his phone on the nightstand. he mentally curses the unknown caller as he declines the call, noting by his phone clock how late it had gotten. 

he hears the girl let out a groan, still draped over him, readjusting her head to lay on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck. 

he kept silent and didn’t move. 

“m’sorry,” she mumbles, realizing their predicament, “you should’ve pushed me off of you,” her voice drowsy. 

“i fell asleep too,” he justifies, “got too comfortable.”

she lets out a hum of agreement.

“yeah,” scooting closer so that her face almost presses into his neck, “you are really comfortable.” 

its difficult for carmen to keep his composure, jaw tightening as she moves closer. he feels her smooth her hand over his bare chest and splay it over his sternum. he had no idea what was happening, but he knows he’s never wanted anything more than for her to keep touching him. 

“your heart is beating so fast,” she softly observes, drowsily shutting her eyes again. 

he clears his throat. 

“the phone scared me,” a fib.

he feels her smile against his neck, and they stay laying like that in silence for another few minutes. carmen slowly regains control over his breathing, repeating to himself do not get turned on, shutting his eyes tightly. 

after a moment, he feels her soft lips creep against his neck, and then she presses a small kiss into the skin. it feels as if a spark shoots down his spine, tingling throughout his body. 

the man quickly rationalizes the situation, thinking she must have done it on accident. then she does it again, this time higher up his neck and closer to his ear. it was a longer kiss, distinct, and then he feels the warmth of her breath again. 

carmen shifts, craning his neck downwards to look at her. she meets his eyes, and he sees the mischievous glint he was so endeared with from when they met. 

his arm is still around the girl, her hand still caressing his chest. she moves it down slowly, fingertips smoothing along his skin to touch his abdomen. she doesn’t say anything, just keeps touching him, feeling the firmness of his body.

her pointer finger traces lower, dragging over the deep cut of his v-line, stopping when she hits the waistband of his sweatpants. he audibly exhales at this. 

she can see the wanting in his eyes from the dim light of the hallway, 

she knows she should stop herself. but between the smell of his skin and the tingling within her core, she felt as if she physically couldn’t stop. she was coming onto the one man she told herself she couldn’t have, yet her body felt so hot. and he was so….

the girl moves closer to him, their faces mere inches apart. 

the pair are completely silent as carmen examines her face, watching as she bites her lip. without trying to stop himself, he reaches up, thumb coming to pull her lip from between her teeth. he runs the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, pushing it to the side a bit, pulling it down a bit, testing how soft and pliant she was beneath him. 

she exhales, and her fingers slide ever so slightly under the waistline of his sweats. she can feel curls of his pubic hair, giving her a hot, pulsing sensation within her core. the small bathrobe seems to suddenly feel constricting.

carmen sharply exhales through his nose as he feels her fingers creep beneath. he slides his hand over her cheek to grip her face tightly as a warning. the girl meets his eyes, noticing how dark they had become. she can’t help her gaze falling down to his plush lips, staring at them for longer than she should before looking back up to him with heavy eyelids. 

if carmen had more sense, he would pull away and turn on the light. maybe ask her to go back to her own room. but he didn’t, so instead he leans in, just far enough so his lips lightly ghosted over hers—just far enough to let her decide. he was trying to control himself. if it were up to him in that moment, he would grab her, tear off the skimpy bathrobe, and take her for himself. 

but he wanted to be more of a gentleman than that. 

she lets out a soft gasp at the proximity, able to feel the heat from his face.

he’s so close, she thinks, smells so good. 

she throws caution to the wind and decides she wants this. 

badly. 

the girl leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to his lips. this ignites something in her, and even though she told herself to pull away after the first kiss and refrain from letting this go too far, she gets a taste of him and immediately craves more. 

carmen enthusiastically reciprocates the kiss, hand gripping her face tighter and pulling her closer. they stay gentle at first, slow. but then she whimpers into his mouth at the sensation and it spurs him on, finding himself entirely too worked up from just kissing. 

the kisses became a bit firmer, hungrier, messier, and carmy slips his tongue into her mouth. the room feels too hot all of the sudden, ferocity of the kiss growing—their teeth bump. 

he pulls away from the kiss, lips still ghosting hers. 

“we should, uh” he rasps, interrupted by the girls continued eager kisses, “we should stop.” 

she pauses and nods. 

“yeah,” biting at her lip, “yeah, you’re right.” 

carmen contradicts himself and captures her lips again, telling himself that it’s to cherish the feeling before stopping. the girl moans into the kiss, and he deepens it again. 

so much for stopping. 

her hand slips further into his sweatpants, and she wraps her fingers around his erection. he releases a low, throaty groan, and slides his hand down to grasp the side of her neck, thumb across her throat. 

she leans into his touch, beginning to gently stroke the length of him, fingers loosely grasping. 

he was thick from what she could feel, and long enough to make the motion feel cramped within the confines of his sweatpants. 

their kisses increase in ferocity and she grips him tighter. he softly bites her lip, and she lets out a hum. 

“fucking touch me already, carm,” her demand comes breathily, body growing increasingly hot. 

“yeah?” another kiss. she squeezes her fingers around him. 

“mmhm,” she breathes, growing impatient. his hand shifts to wrap around the front of her throat, fingers lightly pressing into her.

“ask nicer,” he demands, voice low. 

she feels a hitch in her breathing, surprised by the tingle his words sent through her. 

never before having to ask twice, she lets out a frustrated groan and takes her hand out of his pants. she pulls the front of her loose robe open, exposing her bare chest. 

“fuck,” he groans, eyes graciously raking down her form, able to make out the curve of her breasts in the low light of the room. 

“touch. me.” she whines, too proud to beg for him. 

his hand falls from her neck, fingertips teasing down her sternum. she lets out a breath of relief too soon—feeling him lightly ghost over her perked nipple and trace down her ribs. 

“carm,” she complains. he ignores her, coming to kiss her neck instead. her scent was intoxicating, and he feels himself physically strain to keep from giving her what she wanted, finding similar pleasure in the knowledge that she was growing increasingly desperate for him. 

his hand continues its trail downwards, pushing her bathrobe the rest of the way open. he slides his fingers down her stomach slowly, cherishing the softness of her skin, sliding to grasp her hip, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her pelvis. the minute he saw her he swore to himself he would take his time with her, and that he did. 

she lets out a huff and grabs his hand, trying to pull him towards where she wants him. he only tightens his grip on her hipbone. 

“hey,” he scolds sternly into her neck, biting her softly, “be fuckin’ good.”

she gasps at his bite, arching her back for more. 

“then give me what i want,” she pleads, hand gripping onto his arm. she feels him gently smile into her skin. 

“yeah?” he keeps kissing her neck, “what do you want, pretty girl?”

she feels a tingling at the name, fingers dragging up his arm, gripping onto the muscle of his bicep. 

“i want you to fuc-” the same shrill ringtone blares into the silence, simultaneously vibrating the nightstand. the two jump, the girl pulling her hand away from carmy as if he were hot. his fingers grip her hard enough to bruise, before pulling away and coming to rub over his forehead, jaw tightly clenched.  

as the girl recovers herself with her bathrobe, he angrily grabs his phone and answers. 

“what?” he barks into the line. she sits up and smooths her fingers through her hair, dangling her legs over the bed. 

maybe it was a sign that they were interrupted, she thinks, suddenly bashful about the entire situation, heat of her skin relentlessly burning. 

“fuck,” he curses into the phone, “how bad is it?” eyes glancing over to the girl sitting on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“alright. yeah, i’ll be there in 20,” he begrudgingly says before hanging up the phone. she looks at him questioningly. 

“there was, uh, a fuckin’ leak in one of the pipes. part of the kitchen is flooding.”

“yeah,” she nods, effectively hiding her disappointment, “you should definitely go take care of that,” standing up and turning to walk out. 

he calls her name and she stops, turning back expectantly. 

“we’ll, uh,” he meets her eyes, “we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” 

she puts a small smile on her lips and nods, before turning again and walking to her own room. her heart was still relentlessly beating against her ribcage—skin still hot, still wound so tightly. 

it was a stupid idea to entertain, and she’s glad it didn’t happen. 

at least she repeats that to herself over and over again hoping it’ll start to feel true. 

carmen lets out a labored exhale, gaze falling down to the throbbing tent in his pants, feeling more wound up now than he ever had. 

he regrets not touching her as soon as he had the opportunity, instead trying to tease her. he just really enjoyed how she got so flustered, impatient—certain that the girl had never experienced having to beg for anything before. 

he wanted more. he knew he shouldn’t, but he really did. 

she was so soft beneath him, and pretty, and desperate. he didn’t expect her to have such an attitude, though, finding himself completely roused from the bite of her interaction. 

carmen turns on the lamp, flooding the room with light and squinting his eyes. he stands up to get dressed, ready to go attend to the early morning disaster in the kitchen. 

as he passes her by room he swears he can hear her softly moaning. 

-

next part

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

"Tell me you're mine" + Carmen, the prompts are soo good

Casual.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. carmens got a big ass ego

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

You look into his eyes in the mirror, feeling the way his arms tighten around you from behind. His chest is plastered to your back, your legs spread out over his thighs. He’s got you on the edge of the bed, watching yourselves like voyeurs.

“We agreed,” you pant, “that this was casual.”

“Casual?” he scoffs, curling his two fingers upwards and hitting the spot that makes you keen. “Look at yourself, baby. Does that look casual to you?”

You gaze into your own eyes, and try to shy away from it. You’re sweating, hair plastered to your forehead, hips writhing around. You’re not sure if you’re trying to get closer to him, or further away.

“There’s nothing casual how tight you are around my fucking fingers, babe.”

You whine.

“You know what’s not casual? The way I’ve got your come dripping down my hand right now.”

Your hips buck down into his, making him groan into your ear.

“I’ll tell you what’s not casual,” he whispers, low and slow. “The way you took my cock last night like you were fucking made for it.”

Your skin is on fire, nerve endings alight with the way he speaks to you. He’s so unassuming in everyday life, and then you get him into bed and he’s feral. He fucks you like he’s unhinged.

“Casual is not how I’d describe this, honey. Try again and I’ll let you come.”

You look in the mirror once again, and see a wrecked, debauched version of yourself staring back. No one else could break you down like this. You wouldn’t want them to.

“I’m yours,” you cry, back arching as his thumb presses firm circles into your clit. He adds a third finger just as you’re coming, and you writhe like a serpent, only staying upright thanks to Carmy’s strong arm wrapped around your middle.

“Thought so,” he chuckles.

There’s nothing casual about the things he promises to do to you tonight. You’re glad.

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

[d3add0vedonoteat]

Chicken Soup for Carmy

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ harsh language, sexism and violence in one scene (not from Carmy). Hurt/comfort, fluff.

A/N: I’m literally feral for this man. I’m sick atm and I started thinking about taking care of Carmy while I was making chicken soup. Bonus combo with Carmy protecting you from an asshole customer. Not proofread bc my brain is rotting. Plz be nice this is my first time posting a fic 🥺

-

It was cold. You braced yourself against the harsh Chicago wind as you made your way briskly down the street. After a late night phone call from your brother sent you into a spiral, you couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning all night until finally, at 4am, you flung off the covers and got dressed. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d come here. This place consumed all your mind and your heart since you started working here a few months ago. You used your key to unlock the door in the alley, sighing with relief as the warmth of The Beef welcomed you inside. It was quiet, the lights were down, it was peaceful. You slipped off your sneakers trading in your kitchen clogs and tucked your things safely away in your locker. You tied your handkerchief on your head as you moved. It was so comforting, the routine of The Beef’s prep work. You felt so at home, moving from the prep area to the walk in, diligently beginning the tasks that didn’t need to be started for a few more hours. He would understand. You thought to yourself as you began to prepare fresh stock for the day. He was a man after your own heart, your boss, Carmen Berzatto.

Avoidant, chaotically emotional, one wrong thing away from a complete meltdown, that you both disguised as workaholic tendencies. As you finely chopped onions, your mind quieted. Everything was shut out except for the task at hand. Your brother’s angry voice on the phone accusing you: “you never come home! You don’t even care about us! You can’t take come take care of your own mother?!” was drowned out by the rhythmic pound of your knife on the cutting board. You were in the zone.

Until a voice startled you out of your bubble. “Chef?” You jolted, looking up at the man before you. Carmy’s hair was messier than usual, the bags under his eyes were deeper and more purple. His lips were parted with each soft breath he took. He gave you a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh-” your mouth felt dry and you tripped over your words, as usual when he set those intense blue eyes on you. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Carmy nodded, not pushing you any further. All he said before moving toward the office was a simple: “Heard, Chef.”

You watched him go, noticing the slump of his shoulders and the labor of his normally spry step. There was no mistaking it, Carmen was sick. You stared at the office door for a long moment before you made up your mind.

You set a heavy bottomed pot on the stove with some olive oil. Your hands moved with well practiced efficiency as you chopped garlic and onions, celery and carrots. The garlic and onions went in first. Then the celery. A sprig of thyme and a dash of white wine. While that simmered you quickly seared some chicken breast and chopped it into perfectly bite sized pieces. All into the pot with chicken stock and water, tightly covered to develop the flavors. Next came the pasta. You cracked eggs into the well of flour, mixing and kneading until it became a smooth golden dough. You carefully, tenderly rolled the dough and cut it into thick, short noodles. A bath in hot water to cook, then they too joined the pot. In no time at all, you were ladling a generous portion into a bowl. You set a toasted piece of chibatta on the side, grabbed a spoon, and took a deep breath in an attempt to settle your nerves. Softly, you knocked on the office door.

“Yeah?” His voice responded.

“Chef?” You entered, nervous. Words failing you as they so often did in his presence, you set the bowl before him. Carmy’s eyes widened. The aroma made his mouth water. He looked to you, gaze softening. “You made me chicken soup?”

Your cheeks grew warm. “Y-yeah, I mean chicken soup always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Carmy couldn’t believe you. You noticed? He smiled at you. You were so beautiful. You were always so confident and sure on the line, delegating with efficiency, respect, and authority. He had hired you the second you stepped into The Beef. Your resume was impressive but there was something in the way you carried yourself that truly earned the golden reputation you had in the culinary industry. But you were different with him, in the occasional moments like this where it was just you and him. Shy, almost bashful, gentle, and soft. He loved it. He wanted more of it. He lifted the spoon, bringing a bite to his lips.

“Gotta get a little of everything.” You muttered, eagerly awaiting his response.

Carmy shot you a sideways smile. It was good. No, it was better than good. The warm broth slid down his throat and each bite exploded with a depth of flavor he couldn’t believe. It was pure comfort. It reminded him of being a little kid staying home sick from school. Curled up on the couch while Jerry Springer played, eating crackers and ginger ale until his mom would bring a bowl of chicken noodle soup. But this soup, your soup, was more than that. People always talk about cooking with love but he swore he could taste it. Each ingredient had been so carefully handled. Perfectly chopped vegetables, moist and flavorful chicken. The warm feeling in his chest grew as he inspected the bowl.

“Did uh, did you make this pasta fresh?” He asked, eyeing you.

“Yeah, it’s better that way.” You blushed.

“Thank you, chef.” He said. “It’s really, really good.” Carmy looked down, suddenly feeling heavy. The fear of closeness set into him and all he could think about was how he’d fuck this up. “You-you didn’t have to make this for me.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” You insisted. “It was no big deal.” You began to leave, giving him one last truthful smile. “I like taking care of you.”

“I like taking care of you.” Your words rattled through Carmy’s mind all day. Throughout all of lunch, prep, and dinner he couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d said. The soup you had made was the first thing he’d eaten in too long. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him and you’d just done it because you noticed he wasn’t feeling well. No motive, no games, just tender love and concern.

Love.

Carmy shook his head to try and shake the thought from his mind. No, no, no there was no way you actually cared about him. Not like that. You were just being nice.

That’s just who you are; nice. You were always so kind. The way you’d help Marcus workshop pastries, the way you’d make Tina laugh and listen to her talk about whatever trouble Louis had gotten in, how you’d encourage Sydney and remind her that she can do this. Even the way you’d throw snark right back at Richie or how’d you’d always set aside a portion of Family for Fak and Sugar, even Pete. You were always thinking of others. Carmy wasn’t special.

Yeah. Not special.

Carmy insisted the thought as he scrubbed the grill. Not special. Not special. Not special.

“Carmy?” There you were. You were always there. You had a thick denim jacket on, bag on your shoulder, knit beanie pulled down over your hair. Your brow furrowed at the sight of him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Carmy shook his head. “I’m fine… you uh- you heading out?”

You shrugged, hoisting your bag a little higher on your shoulder and eyeing him skeptically. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, in a bit.”

You chuckled, more exasperated than humorous. “No.”

“What?” Carmy asked, confused.

“No, you’re leaving too.” You insisted. You were feeling bold. Months of long looks and his hand on your lower back every time he passed you had culminated tonight.

You had taken over the front for Richie while he ducked out to take a call from his daughter. You’d insisted. It was slammed for dinner but everything was going fairly smooth until an irate customer approached you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d asked, slamming his plate onto the counter.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean are you retarded or something?” He continued. You were stunned into silence. You had never had anyone speak to you like that. “How hard is it to make a fucking sandwich? I know your tits are bigger than your brain but Jesus fucking Christ it’s not hard!”

“I-I…” you were shaking. “I’m sorry that you’re not satisfied, sir. If you like, we can-”

“Not satisfied?!” He screamed. “How can I be satisfied with this piece of shit!”

He hurled the sandwich at you. It hit you in the chest, toppings and sauce splattering everywhere. Before you even knew what was happening, a blur of messy curls shot past you. Carmy launched over the counter, tackling the man. His fist collided with the man’s face over and over while Richie and Fak rushed after him. There was a cacophony of yells as Richie pulled Carmy back. “Get your girl!” Richie yelled. “Cousin! Go get your girl!”

Fak and Richie dragged the man out and threw him into the street. Carmy’s hands grasped your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He wiped the sauce splatters from your brow. “Look at me.”

Carmy burned with anger as he watched you shake. Your white shirt and blue apron were covered in the sandwich. He imagined what you would do for him if he was in your position. How you’d care for him, how you’d tend to him… so he tried to do what you would. Gently he guided you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist. He practically carried you to his office where he sat you on the couch and quickly went to grab a clean shirt from his own locker. You were in the same place he left you when he returned. Carmy knelt before you, taking your face in his hands once more.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Tears welled in your eyes and you collapsed into his arms. He smoothed his hand over you back, repeating “it’s okay” over and over again. He felt like he was on fire. The feeling of you clinging to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, the smell of you, how you fit in his arms… it was too much. He wanted to run away and never speak to you again. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel your lips against his. He wanted to find the piece of shit that yelled at you and rip him to pieces. He wanted your chicken soup every time he was sick.

All those feelings were closing in on Carmy once again as he stared at you across the kitchen. You still had his t shirt on. You were looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry, uh… what did you say?” Carmy’s voice was softer than he expected.

“I said I’ll walk home with you.”

“Oh, no that’s okay. Ive got to-“

“Carmy,” you stepped closer. Your voice was firm but so tender. “You need to get some rest. Come on, I won’t take no for an answer.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at you. “Alright…” he conceded.

The two of you braced yourselves against the cold and hurried down the sidewalk side by side. You argued about who would walk who home. Carmy insisted on walking you to your apartment but you protested on the grounds that he’d just go back to the restaurant once he dropped you off.

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you have to call me when you get to your place so I know you made it home!”

Carmy looked at the ground, smiling. The warmth in his chest from your soup was steadily turning into a molten pool of lava.

“Heard.” He grinned. You wanted to know he’d made it home. You wanted to make sure he rested. I like taking care of you.

“Well, I’m just up here.” Your voice stopped his thoughts from spiraling before it could even start. Carmy’s brow furrowed. “What?” You asked, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.

“You live over there?”

“Yeah? Like a block down?”

There was a beat of silence before Carmy let out a breathy laugh. “I live right there.” He pointed to the building on the other side of the street.

“No shit!” You laughed in earnest. Your hand came to rest on his arm. “Guess I’m gonna be walking you home more often.”

Carmy’s entire body was on fire. He could imagine the tingle of your soft hand on his skin through all the layers of clothing. He wanted to hold you close again like in his office, but this time you wouldn’t be crying. A deep pit opened in his stomach. How long before he made you cry? How long before he fucked it all up? Until you hated him and quit the restaurant and everything fell apart because he-

“Hey,” your voice. Always your voice that brought him back. When he looked over at you it was like everything but your face faded into a blurry background. You were all Carmy could see. “Do you want to come to mine? I haven’t eaten and I KNOW you haven’t either.”

Carmy’s heart fluttered. “O-okay.” He started, his confidence rising when he noticed your hand was still in his arm. “Only if you let me cook you something.”

“Ooh,” you smiled. “I’d never turn that down!”

Carmy chuckled, feeling lighter for the first time in years as he walked so close beside you that your shoulders brushed. “It won’t be as good as your chicken soup.”

[aestheticaltcow]

Last Updated: 11/24/2024

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Family Ties

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Carmy butts heads with his 17-year-old daughter

Father's Day

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Father's day cards covered in glitter and a surprise, what more could Carmy ask for?

High School

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Carmy didn't like high school, but he did like you, so when you asked him to come speak to this year's graduating class, how could he say no?

Food is Love

~Requested~ (forgot to give it a title) Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader After the passing of your father, you have a hankering for "Daddy Soup." You can't figure out the recipe, so you enlist the help of your Michelin star boyfriend to figure it out

Slumber Party

~Requested~ Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader You didn't take Carmy as a 3-in-1 guy but I guess sleeping over at his place for the first time gives you a good amount of insight on your boyfriend.

Feral

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader After work fun ~ MDNI 18+

Our Future (2 Parts)

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader Age gaps can be difficult. Being at two different times in your life makes the idea of the future seem impossible. Part 1: Our Future Part 2: Our Present

Social Media Manager: The Series

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Marcus's friend Rusty is intriguing, and Carmy wants to get to know her better. Why not hire her to revamp The Bear's social media pages? Part 1: Introductions and Donuts Part 2: Meetings, Meetings, Meetings Part 3: Drinks? Part 4: Bars and Miscommunication

The Carmy Blurb Playlist

A collection of Carmy blurbs inspired by songs I dig that give me Carmy vibes

A Different Point of View

Natalie Berzatto's POV on the events of Season 1

Cigarettes Multiverse (3 Parts)

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader MDNI 18+ Friends with benefits worked for you and Carmy until it didn't. Part 1: Cigarettes - Rozei Part 2: Girlfriend Treatment Part 3: Boyfriend Treatment

Six Months (5 parts)

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Six months postpartum and six months of celibacy, is a sexually frustrated Carmy going to risk his marriage and future relationship with his daughter for a woman who smells like artificial vanilla? Part 1: Six Months Part 2: The Night It Went Wrong Part 3: The Aftermath Part 4: Two Months Part 5: Healing

Three-Three-Three

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Based on the fridge scene of the S2 finale; you help Carmy calm down when he's having a panic attack

You're un-beet-liveable

Sydney "Syd" Aduam x Male Reader (actually, it's Paul Mescal) A cute delivery guy makes Syd a little less annoyed that Carmy asked her to come in early.

Is this what you were looking for?

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Carmy has a habit of misplacing his wedding ring, so he came up with a better alternative.

The Playdate

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader Tiffany asks if Richie can pick Eva up from a playdate.

Lockdowns & Ladyfingers

Chef Luca x Reader Luca is the hot neighbor, after getting the 411 from the grannies in the building; you make your move.

Our Life

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader You see Carmy's sketchbook and can't help but fall more in love with him.

Love Story

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Just a sweet lil narrative of Carmy fallin' for you

Sorry?

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader The story of the time you don't get off MDNI 18+

Cooking Class

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader "Six Months" universe spin-off sorta... Sugar actions off a cooking class hosted by our favorite little chef,. Carmy is a sexy man here's his response to some unwanted flirtation.

That Poster Trend

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader With Carmy's 30th birthday fast approaching, you were struggling to figure out the perfect gift for him—at least until you were reminded of that TikTok beer poster trend.

Fatherhood: Carmy Berzatto

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto's adventures in single fatherhood.

Proposal Gone Wrong

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Carmy wants nothing more than to marry you; unfortunately, with his luck, Murphy's Law took over.

How do you do it?

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader Richie's at his wits end with Carmy. Some advice may make it a little better.

To Chicago and Beyond

Carmen "Carmy" Beratto x Reader Long distance becomes short distance- so short you're within arm's reach of each other.

The Joy Of Cooking

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader You and Carmy are moving in together; nothing bad could happen, right?

Gimme a Minute

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Just something I threw together while I was waiting for my individual supervision session to start.

Drunken Escapades

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader It turns out you met Mikey before he passed; you just didn't know it. Part 1 Part 2 (MDNI 18+)

No Phone Policy

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader I'm in an angsty mood; I'm sorry, everyone. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 The Prequel Part 5 Part 6

Allergic to Sunshine

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Request!

Double Trouble

Richard "Richie" Jerimovich x Reader MDNI 18+ Double the trouble but twice the joy. Thank you, God, for giving me a twin. Do you ever have one of those stupid ideas that sticks in your brain even though it feels kinda stupid? Yea... that's what this was. Part 1: Double Trouble Part 2: I'll Raise You One Better Part 3: Wedding of the Year

Coffee Run

Sydney "Syd" Adamu x Reader Someone requested a Syd x fem reader story a few months ago, and here it is!

Hot Stuff

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Request! Carmy with a plus size reader and him comforting her while she’s not feeling pretty.

Written Romance

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Request! Carmy finds love in an indie book shop.

Non-Casual Dominance

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader MDNI 18+ Carmy gets a little dominant on you.

Worm Universe

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader MDNI 18+ Carmy got you pregnant, and boy, oh boy, was it a wild ride. Part 1: Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Mr. Berzatto

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader Carmy's Dad left the family when he was a kid. Everyone assumed he was dead or in jail or fled the country, who knows. Turns out he never left Chicago, when he turns up in your vintage shop, you're none the wiser.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 15: You Good, Chef?

GIF credit: @carmen-berzattos

Bearblr Promptober Day 15: Free Space aka Carmy Has Girlfriend Brainworms

Summary: Carmy can't stop thinking about his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) being cute in the morning when he left for work, and it's causing so many problems.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned panic attack (no active panic attack in this one), mention of The Devil (aka Chef David), sleepy bean fem reader who is a trauma surgeon, snuggling Carmy's shirt for comfort, she/her pronouns, fluff, feat. Nat, Syd, Richie.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

This is a two-parter. The second part is here.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

Also, if random letters or words are white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

15 Oct 2024

I just had the hardest fucking day at the restaurant and it’s not even because we were doing badly; it’s because I couldn’t stop fucking thinking of Darling.

She was still sleeping when I left. Curled up into a cute little ball under the comforter, just her hair poking out. I grabbed the blanket in the living room and draped it over her as well to stave off the chill that’d creep in since I wouldn’t be around to be her personal heater, and it, unfortunately, woke her up just enough to start feeling around the bed for me.

“Hi, baby girl,” I whispered. She blinked and squinted at me through the darkness. “I’m heading to work. You can go back to sleep.”

She made a discontented noise and mumbled something.

I leaned in. “Hm?”

“Shirt?”

Something in my chest fluttered. “You want my shirt?”

She nodded, groaned sleepily as she reached for my pillow and dragged it under the blanket. I grabbed my t-shirt off the edge of the hamper and gave it to her. She clumsily draped it over the pillow, wrapped her arms around it, and buried her face in it, letting out a soft, satisfied sigh once she’d settled.

The sight of her nuzzled into my shirt, only dozing off when she could be enveloped by my scent? I didn’t think I was the kind of person who could be fucking feral over something, but I am fucking. Feral. Over it. I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s driving me insane. I can’t stop fucking thinking about it. It’s somehow like an earworm I can’t shake or like an image frozen in time that I can’t stop seeing when I blink, but it’s worse because I can’t fucking listen to a song or look at a stupid photo in a cookbook to get it out of my head! It won’t leave me alone! I was in the middle of vegetable prep—this was super early, Syd had just come in and was putting her apron on—and I swear to God, I froze in place because the thought of Darling nuzzling into my t-shirt took over every fucking particle of my brain. I got that deep, sinking heat of arousal in the pit of my stomach while at work, this is insane, what is going on with me?

“You good, Chef?” Syd asks.

I can’t even remember what I said to her, but it must’ve been good or bad enough that she got straight to her prep. I didn’t even make it through dicing another onion before I had to step out in the back alley to get some cold air on my face. I was shaking. I was fucking shaking. Part of me wanted to call Darling. It was like this itch deep in my brain, somewhere I couldn’t reach, and I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to hear her call me sweetheart again. I wanted her hands in my hair, on my skin, wanted to taste her mouth, hear her whisper “I love you” in my ear as she unraveled. I wanted her to pull my hair, why did I want her to pull my hair? But she slept in on her days off, and I couldn’t even try to rouse her from the sleep she so desperately needed to keep functioning. It felt selfish. A spark of pain on the back of my neck brought my attention back to the present, and I realized, with mild horror, that I’d dragged my nails across my skin much like she did to my back or chest when she had a particularly good orgasm.

Shit. Fuck. That’s going to be bright red in a few seconds.

I heaved a breath and headed back inside.

“You sure you’re good, Chef?” Syd asked the moment I came back in.

“What’s wrong? Why is he not good?” Nat?

“The fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

She appeared from the office. “Good morning to you too.” Held up a manilla file. “Quarterly tax shit. I need some signatures. Why are you not good?”

“I’m fine. Give.” I held a hand out for the file.

Sug took entirely too long to hand it to me. “She told me ab—”

“I know, she asked me first. Not talking about it.” I flipped through the papers for all the yellow flags marking where I needed to sign or initial.

“You really should talk—”

“I’m scheduled for a psychological evaluation at University Hospital, and they’ll probably make a referral to trauma therapy.”

“Should I be hearing this?” Syd asked.

Sug. “I don’t know?”

Me. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Sug drew in a breath to say something.

“I’ve already been approved for the financial assistance to reduce the cost of healthcare.” I passed the file back to her. Got back to the onions.

She blinked at me. Did she forget I was her brother?

“That-that was quick.”

I nodded. “She’s almost as quick as you.”

Syd. “She convinced you to go to therapy?”

“I didn’t need much convincing.”

She chuckled. “In what universe…?”

“The one where I had such a bad panic attack that both of us were convinced that I was dying. No, I’m not gonna field questions about it, get back to work.”

Syd’s smile slid off her face. “I wasn’t going to ask!”

“I mean Sug.”

Sugar scoffed. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You were about to.”

Sug crossed her arms. “You’re in asshole mode today, I see.”

“When am I not?”

“When you’re with your girlfriend,” Syd spat. She didn’t need to say it with an attitude. Or maybe she did, honestly; Syd’s right more often than she’s wrong. And she still had the right to be bitter about shit I refused to apologize for. This is easy to say now, at the eleventh hour while I write this down, but it was impossible to say when standing in that kitchen on that day, 2 hours into having Darling brainworms eating holes in my gray matter. Maybe it was because I felt so off, but I fired back with something I definitely shouldn’t’ve said.

Or maybe I should’ve. It got me to say the thing I should’ve said to her months ago.

Oh, look, God being a sadist again. Who would’ve thought?

“The girlfriend you got annoyed with and made feel unwelcomed, remember?”

Sydney’s face contorted into a grimace. “Excuse me, you were shirking your responsibilities here and leaving me to do it all myself after telling me you had my back.”

Sugar had a much more reasonable, “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“Sydney, I couldn’t fucking breathe,” I groaned.

Her face went sober again. It always scares me when that happens.

Words I needed to explain away that blank face refused to leave my throat.

I thought, at that time, that what I needed to do was get deeper into the work, just like I did in New York. Just like I did when Mikey pushed me out of The Beef. That the agony closing in from all directions could be staved off by putting my head down and doing the thing I wanted to do at all—opening my own restaurant—and submerging myself in the production of critical acclaim after critical acclaim because as the awards and accolades stacked up, I could use them as ammunition against The Devil’s voice in my head. Against my own voice. Against the voices of a thousand nameless, faceless people who, in one way or another—often in dozens of ways—crushed any sense of my self-worth under their boot-heels because their best defense against their own cruel internal critics happened to be a really good offense. I fashioned myself into a mosaic of shattered glass to go back to Mikey, to throw reams of approval at him (and at ma and at Sugar—because they were also caught in the backdraft, such is the curse of being a fucking Berzatto), but there was one last boot heel for me to be crushed under, and it happened to be at the end of a gun barrel on State Street Bridge.

Because God’s a sadist, remember?

“I need you to explain that, Carmy,” Syd said.

But you can submerge yourself too deep. And you can start to drown. And when you start to drown, you cling to whatever you can see. Fuck a plan, I didn’t even know what to do to stop being waterboarded by the hell of my own making, and I didn’t know there was a way out of the water, so yes, Syd, yes, I fucking bailed on you and I fucking left you to do it all yourself and I fucked up at every opportunity and I forgot to fucking call the fridge guy but Syd, you have to understand.

Then Sugar, in her small voice. “Yes, please explain, Bear.”

I couldn’t. Fucking. Breathe.

“I don’t have the words to,” I mumbled.

Nat put her hands on my shoulders, leaned down into my view. Half-whispered, “Are you okay?”

I told her to ask me tomorrow.

Mercifully, neither of them pestered me about it and let me get back to prep without disturbing me.

…..

Early in the afternoon, Richie came in and noticed the scratches. What with him being a lanky fuck and all.

“Good morning, everyone—Yo, did your girl get you last night?” He chuckled. Tugged at the back of my apron.

“Nope, my anxiety did this morning, thank you for that.”

He didn’t say another word either.

As we got closer to service, it got worse. Her smile, the scent of her shampoo, her fingernails, painted in oxblood, dragging down my forearm, the soft, wet heat between her thighs, her giggle, her hand ghosting up my abdomen to then press ice to my chest—it kept invading every sense. I could hear, feel, smell, touch, and taste her, I could fucking taste her, and I kept fucking up my counts, I lost track of time twice and Syd had to call out time to service. I grabbed a quart of ice and stepped out again, trying to recompress. Grabbed a fistful of ice cubes and squeezed them.

“Chef, you’re not okay.” Syd again. She followed me.

I drew in a sharp breath to retort that I was fine, but the words got caught in my throat. I could hear Darling talking to me. Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe, baby... That’s it. There you go… Let’s try to recover. I huffed. Shrugged.

“No. No, Syd, I’m not.”

“Do you need to step out?”

No, I don’t, fuck you. “I-I should probably step out, shouldn’t I?”

“That is the agreement we made, yeah. I’m not doing a dinner service with you wired to the gills.”

I nodded. My hand was going numb from the ice.

I told you, God’s a fucking sadist.

(To Be Continued)

[thatone-brightstar]

Cigarette smoke & Spices (Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader) One Shot

I made this account soley to post this cause this fucked up, broken man makes me FERAL, now i'll be on my way lol.

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: You have have gotten to know your neighbor Carmen a little too well.

You don’t know much about him. Not as much as you would like to, anyway. Just a name.

You know he arrives a little past midnight, with what seems like the burden of the world heavy on his shoulders. That despite his withering tiredness, he still steps carefully over your outstretched legs on the days he finds you too entranced in your book to move from the hallway floor.

He’s never asked why you’re there so late and in return, you never complain about the heavy metal music he likes to listen to until three in the morning. 

You do wonder, though, what it is he does that always has him arriving in a grim mood, with the stand of a nervous animal, wounded and ready to slaughter anything in sight. In a city like Chicago, you can assume anything terrible, but the trailing scent of burnt sweet onion and spices that lingers under your nose, calms the thoughts of any illicit affairs. He doesn’t look like the type, anyway. 

But then again, you don’t know much about him.

By the time you hear the elevator gears stop at your floor, your legs have gone numb between your weight and the hard carpet. You pull them from under you and stretch as far as you can with pointed toes to the wall in front of you. It’s a small hallway, so you don’t need to make too much of an effort for your skin to come in contact with the coldness of his door. You feel his heavy stomps vibrate through the floor, heavier than usual and without having to look in his direction you can tell he’s had a hard day. You smile. Those are your favorite.

You place your book by your side in sweet anticipation, pins and needles bite at your exposed legs through the skin. Soon, an ink covered hand invades your sight. The heat radiating from his body is almost enough to cauterize your fingertips as you glide them slowly across his wrist, down the back of his hand and into the cocoon of his calloused palm. You follow the vein in his arm with your eyes, how it travels up, up, up and nests between a strong jaw and neck. You can feel his impatient gaze burn into you and a smile teases your lips when your eyes finally decide to take a dip in the icy blue. He swallows hard, making your smile grow wider.

“Hard day?” you whisper, slipping your bottom lip under your upper teeth and enjoying the way his eyes flicker down to it.

“You have no fuckin’ idea…” Carmen answers in a heavy breath, then in a single movement, wraps his robust hand around your wrist and pulls you to your feet with little effort. 

You don’t get time to react to the sudden change in perspective when you feel the hard door hit your back and the cold seep through your thin shirt, then his hungry lips hunting down your own with desperation. You swallow his deep groan, satisfied to finally find soft skin. He works his skilled fingers up the skin of your thighs, bunching your shirt around your hips while you struggle to turn the nob. Even though it’s late and your neighbors are probably asleep, you’d rather not give them a show. The door clicks open and the weight of his body pushes you both in, never disconnecting your lips. He kicks the door closed and strong arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you up and pressing you with his body to the nearest wall. 

A whine mixes with the sound of sloppy kisses when you feel the hard denim of his jeans rub against the soaked fabric of your underwear and you pull him closer with your legs trying to replicate the feeling. He jerks his hips forward again to give you the friction you need, an almost painful emptiness burning at your core because he’s not nearly as close as you want him to be. With your eyes closed, you can feel his hands everywhere.  Holding the back of your thighs, roaming your abdomen and tangled in your hair at the base of your neck where he holds you still. He leaves your heaving lips to pepper kisses on your exposed skin, wet and hot that once the air touches, makes goosebumps raise immediately. 

“Wanna talk about it-?” You ask as you try to coax him into sharing what it is that burdens him, but he’s too distracted pulling your shirt over your shoulders to pay attention. 

Your tits bounce with the rhythmless movements of his grinds and his patience shrinks even more as he latches onto the soft flesh, tongue covering every bit of your skin with messy licks that have you gasping for air. The room echoes with the obscene sounds sucking and your panting sighs.

“Couch or bed?” You hear him ask, breathless. 

He’s digging his teeth over your collarbone, until the skin grows sensitive and red, a remnant you’ll wake up to when he’s long gone in the morning. 

“Bed” you answer, too entranced in his torturous mouth to form clear sentences. 

The hard wall is replaced by rough palms that keep you pressed to his chest as he maneuvers through the dark living room. Muscle memory guides him in the all familiar space, past your kitchen and through your bedroom door, to the bed he had grown accustomed to. You slide over it gently when he loosens his grip on your form, hair spreading around your flushed face while  you wait impatiently for him to finish undressing. You stretch to the length of the bed, sighing as tension releases from locked joints and when you finally hear the metal of his belt ‘clinck’ on the wooden floor, you lift your head and stare at him through locks of messy hair. Your lip catches  between your teeth at such a beautiful sight, him standing there all lean muscle and hard cock, glistening in anticipation and drawing saliva into your needy mouth. 

You push yourself up to rest on spread out knees, inching closer to his immobile form, then wrap soft fingers around the thick velvet flesh. A shutter leaves his chest and his eyes close when you rake the nails on your other hand up across his hard abdomen and to the back of his neck. The soft flick of your wrist, paired with sultry kisses along his neck and chest, have him thrusting involuntarily into your fist and hands gripping tightly at the side of your hips. You brush your lips along his stubble, the prominent line of his nose and back down to bite his bottom lip.

“D’you wanna talk about it, Carmen?” You whisper again over his lips when you see the ever present frown above his brow hasn’t faded. His name tastes like sugar cubes in your mouth, making you smile at the way he reacts to hearing it from your lips.

Your grip tightens over his girth and you drag your palm slowly when he doesn’t give you an answer. His eyes open suddenly and the blown out look he gives you through hooded brows has thick waves of heat overwhelming your body.

“Do I ever?” He finally answers with a sighed laugh.

That’s the first laugh you’ve gotten out of him and you do your best to ignore the softness it brings to your chest. “Worth a shot” You say shrugging, then latch on to his waiting lips again and resume your hand’s movements.

A surprised gasp leaves your chest as his hands grope the back of your thighs to pull you forward, tilting your balance and making you fall on your back against the soft covers. His hands roam impatiently to your hips, pulling at the last piece of clothing covering you, only to throw it somewhere in the mess of clothes. With one knee resting on the mattress, he pulls at your ankles to have you closer, then leans down to press teasing kisses up your soft skin as he crawls over you. 

His mouth travels in a messy line over your knee, thigh and hip bone, completely avoiding the prominent heat on the inside of your thighs. He yearns to do it, to rub his nose against your slit and taste you so deep that the tartness will linger heavy on his tongue onto the next day, but he knows he can’t. That sort of intimacy is only reserved for matters of the heart, for partners in love who know each other- body and soul-, and you two are anything but. So instead he focuses higher up, licking and nibbling at your breasts and the tender nipples that never disappoint to perk up when he exhales rapidly over them.

You tangle your fingers in the mess of his hair at the feeling of his knees pushing your legs open, then when the skin of his strong thighs begins to rub over your aching core, your nails dig into the sensitive scalp with a gasp. It’s soft at first, like he’s testing your reactions and as you plant your feet around him and push down to meet his actions with urgency, you feel his lips grow into a smile above your skin.

“Fuckin’ tease…” You mumble through gasps, the comment increasing the erratic movements that almost have you shaking over the surface of the bed.

A cry scratches your throat and you tilt your head back when his hand snakes down and applies pressure over it with his palm moving in circles. Your nails rake from his head to his shoulders and he moans over your chest, the skin overly sensitive and wet.

“Just put it in- already..” You whine and he laughs again. That’s two more than ever, but who’s counting.

“What’s the fun in that?” He teases with a heavy breath, but readjusts his position so your thighs rest above his and the thick head of his cock brushes over the hot flesh of your entrance.

He plants his hands by your head with his hanging low and eyes trained on the way you swallow his member as he sinks in inch by inch. The smokey scent from his golden hair and the sweet stretch of him filling you up has your head pounding from the rush of blood and ears only tuning into static. He feels incredibly hot above you, strong biceps caging you in between his hot skin and the mattress. You bite your lip to control the shameful moan trying to escape when he finally settles completely inside you. 

“Fuck-” His eyes are closed and his breathing is ragged for a few agonizing seconds before he pulls back and rolls his hips into you again and again. 

His pace is constant and firm enough that you wrap your hands around his wrists so the force of his thrusts don’t push you away. Still, you can feel him holding back when blown pupils meet yours and his movements falter down lightly. So you give him a little push by taking one of his firm hands and wrapping it around your neck, never letting your sight  leave his.

“Jesus fuck-” He shudders with an exhale and a soft grin.

“Is that all you got, pretty boy?” You ask between pants and a similar grin.

His brows raise in surprise at your sudden teasing and he shakes his head in amusement. His eyes meet yours again, an indescribable gleam visible in the low light of your room and you’re about to question why he’s stopped moving, before he pulls out completely, takes his hand from your neck and effortlessly flips you - so that now your stomach is firmly on the bed. The sudden action pulls a squeal from your throat. You want to turn around to throw another remark, but his hand falls abruptly on the plump flesh of your ass and a guttural groan escapes instead.

“That what ya wanted?” He asks with an edge to his voice as he pulls the front of your thighs back and up, spreading your knees to the sides.

You’re barely recovering from the wave of pleasure his smack caused when a new wave hits at the roughness of two of his fingers plunging into exposed cunt. You’re groaning into the sheets and fisting the covers with all your strength as the bubble in your abdomen grows too quickly. One of his hands holds you hard against the mattress while the other works you into a mess of moans and high pitched gasps with dexterous fingers. He leans over you to kiss your shoulder blades and the dip of your spine, mumbling how good you look trembling under him.

“You could’a just asked…” He whispers while slowing down his teasing fingers, giving you a few seconds to heave in some needed air.

Your sweaty forehead rests over the disarranged sheets as blows of air rattle your chest, along with the pounding of your heartbeat. In the back of your mind, you register his hand rubbing along the length of your spread out thighs, then up to knead the plushness of your ass.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” His amused voice looms over you and his warm breath cools your sweat slickened skin.

You exhale a soft laugh, opening your eyes and tilting your head back to see his amused expression. “ I could be cockier, if only you helped…” 

His grin grows as his eyes drink in the last drop of blue and his chest is now flat over your back, cock hard and throbbing against your ass cheeks. 

No anticipation could prepare you for the moan that claws out from your throat the moment he slips back inside, with even more fervent energy. The new position has you somehow feeling him thick and hot against your stomach and the strength that he deposits into every thrust has you clawing at anything you can get your hands on. You don’t know where the ardent giggle comes from, but it’s there, accompanied by a shrill “Oh my fuck- Carm-!” that comes out more whinier than you would like. He groans into your neck at the desperate call of his name and how fucking good it sounds coming from your panting lips.

“God- so fuckin hot-” He mumbles into your skin, nipping the base of your neck with his teeth and pulling a shaking moan that fills him with pride. “Always so fuckin’ ready for me aren’t ya?”

You're at the mercy of the steady and harsh snap of his hips. Tears pick at the corner of your eyes and watercolors bleed together in swirls of blues as you claw at the covers while strong thighs slam behind you.

Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time and the constant gasps do nothing for the lack of oxygen burning at your lungs, more from him knocking out every attempt to breathe than from the grip he has around your throat. You can feel your pulse heavy on your clit, but before you can reach down to touch yourself, he pushes your back hard down on the bed with a grunt and slows down his movements to a stop. 

His ragged breathing blows cold over your searing skin for a few seconds, then he pulls out and lays beside you on the bed, panting. He turns to see your amused expression at the sudden halt, then grins slightly for the fifth time that night.

“Shut up.” He says before you speak, like he just knows you're about to tease him over losing his breath during sex.

“I wasn’t saying nothing!” You joke and rest your head up your elbow, looking down at his tinted skin. “But you really should stop smokin’...” You add.

Carmen’s brow creases in confusion, then when you swing your aching thigh over his hips and plant your palms over his hard chest, his face turns to surprise. This is the first time in the months that you’ve been doing this, that you’re the one on top. 

“How’d you know I smoke?” He asks with crystal eyes scanning your face and large palms rubbing up and down your thighs.

You shrug, taking his pulsing cock in your hand and giving it a few jerks that pull the air from his lungs. You raise on your knees and angle the glistening head to rub teasingly at your folds. 

“You always smell like it. It’s kinda hot.” You respond, then sink down slowly to feel the mouthwatering stretch once again. 

He groans, throwing his head back from the tightness the new angle offers, but then looks up to you again because there’s something about the way you’re looking at him that makes his chest ache. You dig your nails into his strong stomach as you raise up then fall back down on his length with a roll of your hips, always looking down at him through strands of messy locks. You continue at a slow pace, savoring how his tip seems to push against a special spot that has waves of tingles roaming down your thighs. 

Your mouth hangs open as you speed up your movements and he meets you halfway with the strong snap of his hips and the firm grip on your waist. He pulls you into his chest at the same time his hands push your hips down and another involuntary high pitched gasp rasps at your throat. He swallows it down gladly as he devours your mouth with a seething necessity you hadn’t felt before and the constant push of his grip on your hips has you panting shamefully against his lips.

“Fuck- shit Carm, you’re gonna make me-” He thrusts his hips painfully hard that it knocks the words from your mouth.

You’re drenched in sweat and surrounded by the obscene sound of smacking skin and hefty smell of sex, but all you can register is the moaning, broad shouldered man underneath you. Wild sapphire eyes dance around your pleasure filled face and Carmen swears he had never found you more attractive than in this moment- sweaty, flushed and kiss- swollen. He doesn’t know what takes over him as he reaches up to caress your cheek, or where he gets the bravery to effortlessly flip you over so you’re back where you began- choking for any sliver of air that he pushes back out with his persistent thrusts.

“So fuckin’ beautiful-” He moans into your neck.

You claw at his back, scratches he knows will bring a grin to his usual cold features when he stares into the broken mirror in his bathroom tomorrow morning. You’re a mess of pleas and incoherent mumbling that can only be silenced by his feverish kisses as he cradles your face in his strong palms.

He feels the familiar tight and hot grip around his cock and a primal instinct to speed up his thrusts takes over him. You wrap your trembling thighs hard around his hips and swallow every groan that escapes his throat. You feel the bubble in your abdomen grow incredibly quick and tight until it bursts into waves of pleasure that have your toes curling and your back arching impossibly closer to him. 

You don’t exist for a few wonderful seconds. There’s no up or down as you float through existence like a still feather. There’s only the weight of the man above you holding you like a lifeline. A fuck shaped moan cascades from his lips as he feels your walls spasm against him and the sensitivity is too much that he follows behind your orgasm after a couple more delicous thrusts.  

Through your cloudy haze, you feel him break above you, the heaves that brush your neck and the thick liquid that fills you up as he comes inside you. His arms tremble slightly by your head, trying to maintain his weight and you could blame the intensity of the moment on your actions, but you snake your arms over his strong shoulders and pull him down to rest on your chest.

Despite the fact that you’ve been sleeping around with each other for the past few months, you can feel that something was different about this time, like a barrier had been broken or an invisible line had been crossed for both of you. You’re not going to ask, though. You’d rather bask in the post orgasm bliss that washes over you.

Carmen groans tiredly as he pulls out of you and lays by your side to see your relaxed face and closed eyes.

“We’re-uh- we’re gonna have to talk about it, aren’t we…” He mumbles with a small smile as he rakes his fingers through his sweaty hair, tired eyelids closing involuntarily as the weight of the excruciating day finally falls off his shoulders.

You hum softly, then feel around you for the covers that you gently drape over your naked bodies routinely. You both lay in a strange silence with eyes fixed on your ceiling, not a bad silence just… different.

“Yeah…” You whisper back and turn to bright blue eyes that finally lack the worn out and exhausted expression his rugged brows give him. “But it can wait ‘till tomorrow.”

You turn your back to him, adjusting the pillow under you. 

A strong arm snakes around you over the covers that pulls you to a warm chiseled chest, you can feel his erratic heartbeats mixing with your own and you smile when soft lips graze carefully on the curve up your shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” He whispers back with the tenth smile of the night.

[powderblueblood]

POWDER. 29. SHE/THEY. WRITER. SCORPIO. 18+ ONLY.

i love all my children equally but bold are characters i am always super keen to write, italicised are characters i have less experience writing but am always happy to explore. this list is constantly evolving.

STRANGER THINGS — eddie munson, robin buckley, steve harrington, ronnie ecker, al munson, nancy wheeler RIVERDALE — veronica lodge, jughead jones, cheryl blossom JUSTIFIED — raylan givens, boyd crowder THE BEAR — carmen berzatto, sydney adamu, richie jermovich POKER FACE— charlie cale SUCCESSION — roman roy THE VAMPIRE DIARIES — bonnie bennett, damon salvatore, katherine pierce

SHIPS I'LL WRITE FOR — every single one of the characters above x reader, ronance, platonic!steddie, platonic!stobin, platonic!rennie, boydraylan jeronica, choni, sydcarmy, sydrichie,

TROPES I GO FERAL FOR — enemies to lovers, partners in crime, divorced couple energy, reluctant soulmates, grumpy + sunshine, pathetic lovedrunk moaning men, high status cunt women, mischievous little bastards, witches, vampires, ghosts, psychics, religious trauma, low-rent criminal enterprises, parental issues that are almost biblical, small towns with secrets that are too dark to keep

WHAT I WRITE — snark, angst, smut, fluff, dick jokes — i'm certifiably canon divergent in... almost everything

WHAT I DON'T — rpf, anything non-con, ddlg (but i'm not opposed to a reasonable age gap let's be real), m x m smut (couldn’t do it justice, could just do it dick jokes)

FIND PROMPTS HERE.

[squid-the-kid]

characters that deserve more from fandom/ very specific things i wanna read:

autistic tsukishima-centric fic

hurt no comfort from the bear (for carmy [but NO sidcarmy or ill kms])

aroace carmen berzatto

any of my fandom ships qpr

those two haikyuu poly ships i rlly like but no angst (kuroo/tsukki/bokuto/akaashi & sugawara/daichi/asahi)

tendou-centric fic

for that one deidara fic i started reading on wattpad (ew) to be updated im feral

more deidara content in general

aragorn content (specific aragorn-centric content)

keeping with the theme: autsistic aragorn content

lotr camp au pls my beloved

legolas/aragorn fics w/angst but aragorn-centric

viggorli stuff, multi-chapter, little-no smut

haikyuu body swap (read like two of these fics omfg)

rory culkin content that isn't shitty xreaders

rory content for gay men

cassie/sid from skins but we focus on sid dealing with cassies ed in the angst way (only 2 fics exist like this on ao3 i need more)

konig angst and no cringy xreader

actually just more cod gay x reader where we do the internalized homophobia

red guy dhmis fic, angst, also no ships

andre/brett from inside job (the real ones know)

anything brokeback mountain, that continues the story, please please please