#jeremy allen white smut

[andiberzatto]

Tiny Blurb: Carmy and Phone Sex

His breath catches at her words, imagining the scene. His t-shirt on her, those sleep shorts... fuck. "Fuck, baby... that's so fucking hot." He stands up abruptly, moving to the window to pull the blinds shut for privacy. His voice drops even lower.

"I'm fucking hard right now thinking about you in my shirt." He presses his forehead against the metal file cabinet, one hand already slipping into his pants to grip his growing erection. "Touch yourself for me... please." His voice is rough with need.

"Fuck..." He groans quietly, stroking himself slowly. "Put your fingers inside yourself... just like I would if I was there. Two fingers, baby. In and out slow." His hand moves faster over his own length as he imagines her touching herself. "Are you wet?"

"God yes..." He hisses, pumping his hand faster. "That's my girl... fuck yourself harder... like you fuck yourself when you miss me." His breath comes out in short bursts.

"Fuck fuck fuck..." He's fully hard now, leaking. The sound of her gets him even more worked up. "Use three fingers now... stretch that pretty pussy open for me." His hand is a blur over his cock at this point. "I wish I was there..."

“Holy fucking hell..." He bites his lip so hard he's surprised it doesn't bleed. He's never heard her sound this wet before. "Keep fucking yourself like that... pull your knees up and spread your legs wide... let me hear that messy little pussy." He's practically begging now.

"I fucking love it..." He's panting now, his hand moving so fast it's almost painful. "You're so loud and wet... fuck, baby, you're gonna make me come just listening to you." He bites back a groan as he feels his orgasm building.

He muffles a loud growl, almost coming just from hearing her orgasm. "Goddamn..." He catches his breath, his hand slowing down slightly. He realizes something - she's so responsive to his dirty talk. He swallows hard, testing something. "Baby?"

"Would you... would you do something for me?" He hesitates, his face flushing. He's never asked her to do anything like this before. "It's kinda dirty." He adds quickly, giving her an out if she's uncomfortable.

He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I want you to... taste yourself." He says quickly, his heart racing. "After you finish... bring your fingers to your mouth and suck the taste of your pussy off them. See if it's as sweet as I tell you it always is."

He nearly chokes on his own spit hearing the wet sounds of her cleaning her fingers with her mouth. "Fuck fuck fuck..." He's completely lost in the moment, stroking himself furiously now. The mental image of her tasting herself is driving him wild. "Baby... I'm gonna cum..."

he cums, his white shirt pulls to his collarbone so he can cum on his stomach.

He pants heavily, his chest heaving as he comes down from his orgasm. He looks down at the mess on his stomach and chuckles softly. "Fucking hell..." He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He looks back at the phone, remembering she's still there.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Carmen Berzatto X Reader: Sweet Symphony

Warnings: smut, car sex, oral (f receiving), handjob, penetration (p in v), public sex (it happens in a parking lot so yeah i guess), no use of y/n, mutual pinning, cursing, kissing, dirty talk, female anatomy, male anatomy.

Word count: 4K (idk how that happened, i swear it's worth it ����)

There were about a thousand other things Carmen should’ve been doing right now.  The restaurant was still made up of tarps and chunks of wood and debris. He needed to call a plumber. And an electrician. And a builder.  He needed to figure out the menu. Get the staff. Handle the permits.  There were a million other things he should be doing.

But he wasn’t.

In fact, he wasn’t anywhere near the restaurant.

Carmen currently found himself sitting in your car, parked in the middle of a near-empty lot, as you blasted the radio. You hadn’t shut up for the last thirty minutes. You couldn’t. There were too many things to say, too many thoughts to share.

And Carmen listened—not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. Because it mattered to you. 

He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up as you spoke about the music. He didn’t understand half the technical terms you used and probably never would, but that didn’t matter. He loved the way your hands moved through the air, describing a specific part of a song like you were conducting it.

He wondered if this was how people felt when he talked about cooking. Did he light up like this? Did his hands move the same way?  Did people look at him the way he was looking at you now?

Carmen had been so focused on the way you looked as you talked that he completely lost track of what you were actually saying. You noticed. You always noticed.  You snapped your fingers in front of his face to bring him back.

“Yo, Carmy? You still with me?”

“What? Yeah—sorry.”

“I’m boring you with my music talk, huh?”

“No, no—of course not. I was just—”

“Jesus, Carm. I’m joking. You’re all good.”

This happened a lot. Sometimes Carmen got too caught up in the sight of you, in his thoughts about you, that he missed whole pieces of conversation. You never seemed bothered by it. You never held it against him.

But it happened enough for you to notice—how his eyes would glaze over just slightly, or how he’d be so focused on your face that he didn’t compute a single word coming out of your mouth. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Who wouldn’t want Carmen Berzatto staring at them like they were the only person left on Earth?

“I could play at the restaurant,” you said suddenly.

You surprised him—it was obvious on his face.

“I mean, think about it. You could have live music on, I don’t know, Saturday. Then I could go, and I could play.”

“…Okay. I’d need a stage.”

“No, fuck that. I don’t need a stage to play.”

“Okay. What about payment?”

“Jesus, Carmy—way to spoil the mood.”

You were toying with him. You couldn’t help it. Carmen was an easy target. You loved seeing the way his brows crinkled when he thought he’d actually managed to piss you off. He never did. Well—maybe if he really tried, he could. But he never had. Not once. And yet every time you teased him, you still got him. Every time.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Carmen muttered, but he was smiling when he said it.

You leaned back in your seat, kicking your feet up onto the dash like you lived in the car. Like this was your shared little world where nothing outside mattered—not the restaurant, not the bills, not the creeping anxiety that clung to Carmen like grease in his skin.

“Yeah, well,” you said, tilting your head to look at him, “you keep coming back, don’t you?”

He did keep coming back. Not because it mattered. Not because he had to. But because you were a break. A break in the constant anxiety and dread that filled him. A break from the restaurant and its never-ending chores.  A break from his mind. Here, in your car, locked away from the rest of the world, Carmen felt like he could breathe again. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand what you were talking about half the time. The sound of your voice—the simple presence of you—managed to calm him.

So yes, he kept coming back to you.

Even if maybe there were other things he could be doing with his time.

You always made sure he had nothing left on his plate before letting him melt into your passenger seat. You didn’t let him hide here if there was something waiting to be resolved. And even when he said, “I’m good, I’m done for the day,” you still checked with Syd. Not because you didn’t trust him.  But because you didn’t want to be a burden.

You didn’t want to be the reason the restaurant fell behind.

Because as much as you selfishly adored your time with Carmen— as much as you wanted to keep him here, tucked away with you forever—you knew what the restaurant meant to him. How much it meant to be building something again. It meant something to him, which meant it meant something to you too. Because he meant something to you. 

Carmen’s eyes raked over your face before shifting to the place where your hands thrummed against your thighs. You seemed so at peace here—so angelic against the light of the setting sun. Carmen often thought that, in moments like this. But he never told you.

“You look really pretty.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

It wasn’t like Carmen to say things like that. Not to you. Not to anyone, really.

He was quiet with his feelings—kept them pressed down, folded into corners of himself he rarely let people see. And even though you were close, even though you spent hours like this—just being together—he had never said anything like that before.

Not really.

You glanced over at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, or distracted, or thinking about someone else entirely.His brow furrowed slightly, like maybe he was already regretting saying it. Like the words had slipped out before he could shove them back down.

But he didn’t take it back.

You felt your stomach twist, just a little.

“…What?” you asked, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you needed to be sure.

Carmen looked away, jaw tight. His fingers tapped lightly against his thigh—nervous, fidgeting.

“I just…” he started, then stopped. Swallowed.

“I think that sometimes. That you look… you know. Pretty.”

You stared at him for a moment, completely still. Because you’d known he liked being around you—sure. You’d known he cared. But this? This was different. 

Your heart beat louder than it should’ve.

You didn’t really know how to respond.Maybe you should thank him, but that felt too superficial, too odd considering the situation. Carmen Berzatto had just told you that he often thought you looked pretty—and that was doing something to you that you hadn’t expected it to.

You’d always had a sort of thing for him. The Berzattos were a handsome family—it was easy to fall for their looks. So yeah, when you were younger, you thought Carmen was cute. But then you started to know him. Started to hang around him. Actually became his friend.

And the thought of him being cute melted into something else.

But he had too much on his plate already, and you didn’t want to just pile on another thing for him to be worried about.

Friends don’t look at friends the way you look at Carmen.And Carmen doesn’t look at you the way he looks at his other friends—the few ones he does have.

So you let yourself sit in silence for a moment, running over a million thoughts at the speed of a second. And then, before you could chicken out,before you could convince yourself that it wasn’t worth it,you removed your feet from the dash and began to lean over the center console so you could reach him.

When your hand touched Carmen’s thigh, his head snapped up from the window to look at you. He hadn’t even realized you’d moved—not until you were practically on top of him.

And you stayed there for a second. Not moving. Not talking. Just letting your breath and his mingle.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips and you took that as your shot.You pressed a gentle kiss to him, backing away softly in an attempt to allow him to take in what had just happened.

But Carmen didn’t need to think. In fact, he’d almost shut off that part of his brain in that moment. Because if he started to think, he would chicken out. And he didn’t want to lose the opportunity you had just granted him. So before his brain could even compute it, he had dragged you onto his lap, hand settling at your waist as he kissed you again.

Carmen’s lips trailed from yours down to the hollow of your neck, soft and searching. You tilted your head, giving him better access, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. His fingers pressed firmly at your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the subtle shift in his breathing as desire laced every movement. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent—it was something deeper, slower. Like discovery.

Your hands found their way up, tangling in his hair, feeling the slight roughness beneath your fingers. He responded with a low sound in his throat, pulling you into him again.

The radio hummed somewhere in the background, but it was just noise now—everything else narrowed to the warmth of his skin, the press of his body, the steady beat of your shared breaths.

Carmen’s lips left your neck to meet yours again, more demanding this time, as if he was catching up on all the things he’d been holding back. Your hands slid down, tracing the line of his shirt, feeling the strength beneath, the promise of more.

You ground your hips down onto Carmy’s, causing him to let out a low groan. You smiled against his lips, repeating the action. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body pressed harder into yours, matching the rhythm you set.

And then he pulled his mouth away from yours. You wondered for a moment if he’d changed his mind. Wondered if you were going too fast for poor Carmy. But he surprised you.

“Get in the back.”

You raised your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his voice. Where had the shyness you knew so well gone? Carmen seemed to catch onto your amusement, his hands moving to caress your ass. He smiled as you gasped at his actions.

“You started it.”

“And you’re gonna finish it, Berzatto?”

Carmen smiled at you—full of mischief.

“Get in the back and you’ll find out.”

That was all you needed. You climbed over the center console, sitting in the backseat. Carmen didn’t even need to ask you to take your pants off; you were already stripping them when he managed to get to the backseat. His eyes raked over the newly exposed skin, hands moving to knead it like soft dough. 

Carmen’s hands didn’t stop kneading, their touch slow but deliberate, as you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. You were practically lying down in the back seat, Carmy hovering above you. The car felt smaller than it had a couple of moments ago, the air charged with a sort of unspoken need.

You let out a soft breath, your fingers trailing down his arms, feeling the strength beneath the fabric.

“Can I see you without the shirt?”

Carmen was surprised by your question. You’d been so prepared to undress yourself before him, but you worried he wouldn’t be as comfortable doing that. Instead of answering, his hands released your body for a moment, tugging his shirt off. Your palms traced his body as he leaned down to kiss your neck again.

His hands moved over your stomach, fingers skimming against the edge of your shirt. You nodded your head at him before he even asked the question, hands moving to help him peel your shirt off. When the shirt slipped over your head, Carmen’s lips met yours again, slower this time, more deliberate. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, the pressure of his body pressing against yours. His fingers trailed lower, brushing over your ribs, the bare skin beneath your bra.

“Can I?” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath hitched as you nodded, lifting your arms just enough for him to slide your bra straps down your shoulders. His hands cupped your breasts gently, thumbs circling your nipples through the thin fabric. Your head lifted slightly off the seat as Carmen leaned down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while his hand continued to caress the other.

You could already feel the wet spot forming on your underwear. Carmen wasn’t much better off—his boxers were already stained with precum, his dick twitching with every soft sound that escaped your lips. And every sound did feel like music to him, which felt appropriate, considering your profession.

His lips trailed lower, moving from your breasts to your stomach, and finally to where you needed him most. He hooked his fingers around your waistband, pausing for just a moment to meet your gaze in silent question before tugging the fabric down your legs.

The space was tight, but Carmen was determined. He managed to settle between your thighs, his face mere inches from you.

And then he leaned in.

Your body jolted at the first touch of his tongue. A soft gasp escaped you as your hand found his hair, gripping tightly as he continued working you open with slow, deliberate movements.

Carmen groaned softly against you, the sound vibrating through your core and pulling another breathy moan from your lips. He was taking his time with it, dragging his tongue through your folds, slow and focused—like he was tasting something he’d been craving for a long time.

Your thighs twitched around his shoulders, and he only pressed in deeper. One arm curled beneath your leg to keep you open for him, while the other reached up, hand sliding along your ribs until his thumb brushed over your nipple again. Every point of contact lit you up.

“Fuck, Carmen—” you breathed, voice catching as your hips rocked against his mouth.

He pulled back just enough to glance up at you, lips shiny and eyes heavy.

“Yeah?” he said, voice hoarse. “That feel good?”

The teasing lilt in his voice was new—rough and low, coaxed out by the way you fell apart for him.

You nodded, too far gone for words. Your fingers tightened in his hair as he lowered his head again, tongue circling your clit before sucking softly, rhythmically. You gasped, a sharp, broken sound that made his hips twitch beneath the denim.

You were close, and he knew it. He could feel it in the way you pulsed against his mouth, in the way your thighs tried to close around his head.

He didn’t let up. If anything, he doubled down—sucking harder, tongue flicking in just the right way, fingers now slipping lower, pressing inside you without warning.

Your back arched off the seat, a cry spilling from your mouth as the pleasure hit all at once, wave after wave rolling through you. Carmen didn’t stop until you were twitching under him, your grip in his hair loosening, chest heaving with the force of it. Only then did he lift his head, dragging his mouth across your thigh with a breathless laugh.

“Jesus,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You were far too breathless to offer a witty quip in response. So instead, you tugged him up by the chin and kissed him, messy and needy. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mixture of you and him almost intoxicating. Your tongue moved over his, hands clinging to his biceps as you tried to keep him close.

It was too much for Carmen to handle. Being this near to you, yet still not close enough, was driving him insane. And you could see it. You could feel it in the way his body trembled as he tried to hold himself up. You could feel it in the bulge straining against his jeans. With every movement of his tongue, he rocked his hips into you—his clothed dick dragging against your thigh, desperate for friction.

You shifted one of your hands from his cheek, palm trailing down his body until you reached his belt. You didn’t know how you’d managed to do it one-handed, but somehow, you got his belt off. You caressed him through his boxers, reveling in the soft moan that escaped his lips at the action.

“Someone’s excited to see me.”

Carmen couldn’t help but laugh at your words, his forehead resting against yours as you smiled. Your hand slipped beneath his boxers, soft fingers wrapping around his dick. Carmen bucked into your hand unconsciously.

“Yeah? Like that?”

He’d gone quiet all of a sudden—just nodding at your words.

“Come on, Carmy. Where’s the loudmouth I know and love?”

“Fuck you.”

You grinned. “There he is.”

You shifted your grip, fingers moving over his head as you continued your languid strokes. He kissed you again—maybe in an attempt to shut you up. Or maybe to stop himself from groaning out loud. You nipped at his lips, tugging them between your teeth.

“Wanna hear you, Carmy,” you whispered against his lips, your voice low, sultry, commanding.

Carmen groaned — this deep, wrecked sound from somewhere in his chest — and you felt his whole body shudder in response. His hands gripped your hips like he was grounding himself, but his resolve was slipping. Fast.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, almost like a prayer, breath hot against your skin.

“Haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Your words sent a shiver of desire rushing through him. Yes, he had wanted to keep going—that’s why he’d told you to move to the backseat. But to hear you acknowledge it, to hear those suggestive words slip from your lips, ruined any self-control he had left.

Without warning, he shifted, guiding your body further down the seat. His fingers hooked around the edge of your underwear, tugging them fully off this time and tossing them somewhere behind him. His hands spread over your thighs, pushing them open as he settled between them, his gaze trailing down your body like he was memorizing it.

“You still sure?” he asked, voice rasped and a little wrecked.

You nodded–breathless, aching. “Yeah. Fuck, Carmy—please.”

He lined himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against you, teasing you with just the tip. He watched the way your body reacted — how your hips lifted toward him, how your breath hitched — and he swore under his breath. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, and then he pushed in slow, deep, agonizingly, deliberately.

Your head fell back with a gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into you inch by inch, filling you completely. The car felt even smaller now, the heat between you overwhelming.

Carmen stilled when he was fully inside, trying to catch his breath, to keep from coming right there.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your neck. “Fuck, you’re warm. Oh god.”

“Carmy,” you whined, biting your lip as you tried to adjust to his size.

He growled — actually growled — and pulled back before thrusting into you again, harder this time. You moaned, nails digging into his skin.

The rhythm started slow, deep, grinding — like he wanted to savor every second — but it didn’t take long before it grew messier, more desperate. You wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer, to let him hit deeper. He bit into your shoulder, hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that had you both panting.

“You feel so good,” he groaned. “Fuck—just—so good.”

Your lips brushed his ear as you whispered, “Don’t stop, Carmy.”

Carmen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging in just enough to remind you he was there—anchoring you even as his movements became more urgent, more desperate. Each thrust hit deeper, sending sparks of pleasure bursting through every nerve ending.

Your breath hitched with every collision, a mix of gasps and moans tumbling from your lips, the confined space of the car amplifying every sound. The way he moved—rough yet careful—made you feel cherished and possessed all at once.

He kissed down your jaw, teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of fire. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as your bodies moved in perfect, heated sync.

You were going to come. You could feel the coil tightening with every thrust. And when Carmen started mumbling words of praise against your neck, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

You met his gaze, eyes shimmering with need and something softer—trust, desire, something unspoken that hovered between you.

“Carmy,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, “I want you to come with me.”

His pace faltered for just a moment, but then he nodded, lips brushing against yours in a promise.

The sun was long gone; the only light illuminating the car was a crappy one from the parking lot. You were sure anyone who passed by could tell what was happening inside. With how rough Carmen was moving, you’d be surprised if your beat-up car wasn’t rocking along with the rhythm. But you couldn’t care less. Let them see. Let them watch the show.

The tension coiled tighter, muscles burning, heart pounding. Your world narrowed down to the feel of him, the sound of your joined breaths, the heat that bound you both.

And then, with a shuddering groan, Carmen tipped over the edge, his body trembling as he spilled inside you, every inch of him alive with release.

You clung to him, riding out the waves of your own climax as the world outside faded away.

For a long moment, you just held each other—breathless, tangled, the world outside reduced to distant noise. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling of the car as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the warmth that still radiated from Carmen's body beside you. Could feel the scratch of his jeans against your bare legs as he shifted into a more comfortable position. 

Carmen rested his forehead against yours, voice thick with exhaustion and something softer. “You okay?”

You nodded, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his sweat-dampened skin. “Better than okay.”

A tired smile tugged at his lips. “Damn, you’re something else.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “So are you.”

Neither of you spoke for a while, just breathing in the closeness, the newness of what had shifted between you.He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart twist. 

“I don’t want this to end.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“Stay over,” he said quietly, his voice almost a plea. “Sleep in my apartment tonight. Let me wake up to the sight of you in the morning.”

The smile that broke onto your face could have replaced the sun. You tugged him into a soft kiss.

“Okay… but you’re driving.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you teased, nudging him gently.

Carmen laughed—a low, warm sound—as he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. “Alright, alright. I got you.”

After you both got dressed and Carmen settled into the driver’s seat, you made your way to his apartment. You watched the city pass by as you drove, Carmen’s hand resting on your thigh—a soft reminder of what had happened. A silent promise of more to come.

[ssweetleaf]

roll like thunder.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you piss carmy off, he decides to teach you a lesson.

includes: 18+, dub con, angst, mean!carmy, belting, wedgying?? is that a word?, degradation, too many uses of the word ‘fuck’, sorry, no actual smut in this, but i’m thinking of making a part 2…let me know if you’d likeeee :D

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

Being in Carmy’s bad books was not a usual occurrence for you.

You were used to being good— having him coo and dote over you, petting your hair and kissing at your forehead, telling you what a good girl you were.

You were used to being underneath him, all pliant and submissive, eager to please— and he’d treat you so good, give you anything you’d ask for and you didn’t even have to use your words.

So when he sat in the driver’s seat of his car, his hands were clenched upon the wheel, the leather squeaking under his grasp— you sorely missed the usual hand that squeezed at the fat of your thigh, or warm palm that enveloped your knee.

In fact, he barely looked at you, nostrils flaring as he stared straight at the road ahead, chewing irritably at the skin of his bottom lip— already red raw.

You awkwardly shifted in your seat whilst he drove in silence, fiddling with your fingers and wringing your hands in your lap. Your mouth stuttered for words, wondering how to approach him and what to say.

“Carm, I—,” you began, only to be cut off rather abruptly by the man himself, the first words he had uttered since you’d left the restaurant, since you said your goodbyes to the rest of the kitchen, since Carmen piped up on how disappointed he was with you.

“Shut up.” He muttered, utterly fuming, smoke practically bellowed from his ears and you sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep your tears at bay.

You didn’t like when Carmen thought you were bad.

“But I just—” you tried, reaching out to grasp his hand that lay limp on his lap, only for him to bat it away.

“I won’t tell you again.” He spoke firm and lowly, a kind of voice he had never really needed to use with you before.

A part of you hated it— the tears that begged to ebb over your lash line were proof, however there was someplace deep inside you that enjoyed his tone, an itch that needed to be scratched, a desire to be put in your place, to know your place.

But you nodded shakily anyway, cowering down into your seat and keeping your gaze set on the hedgerows that zoomed past your window— you were nearly home, just a few more minutes and you’d be ridden of this awkward tension, at least you’d hoped.

…

Once you had both made it home, Carmy turned off the ignition, and got out of the car, letting the door slam shut before making his way inside your apartment.

You frowned, any other day he’d come around to the passenger side, insisting on opening the door for you, helping you unbuckle your seatbelt and aiding you in stepping out with an open palm. Instead today, you had to walk inside on your own, smoothing your dress down (one of Carmy’s favourites, though you were sure it didn’t really matter, not with the mood he was in) and watching hesitantly as he gripped the kitchen counter, his head hanging between his shoulders and mouth in a thin, firm line.

He was very clearly pissed.

“Carmy,” you whispered, shifting on your feet, watching when his shoulders tensed at your words. “talk to me.”

You could see the way his jaw ticked, flexing and grinding his teeth, a habit of his when he was angry— though it had never really been directed towards you before.

He chuckled, a humourless and dry laugh that had you chewing at your lip, trying to keep your frown at bay.

“What’s there to say, honey?” His usual pet name didn’t flow off his tongue as sweetly as it usually did, instead it was spat out like venom— mocking you. “You embarrassed me. In front of my fucking employees, no less.”

Your gaze was fixed to the floor, toeing your sock clad feet against the kitchen tiles and chewing anxiously on your lip.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” you uttered, feeling the lump in your throat starting to form and thick tears building from beneath your waterline.

It didn’t help your oncoming emotions when he decided to mock you further— to imitate your helpless stuttering with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t mean to, huh?” He said, and you shook your head, looking at him now, eyes boring into his, just hoping to see a semblance of your usual Carmy inside them. Instead they were dark and swarming, his cerulean irises glazed over and almost black.

Carmen was quiet for a while— moody and brooding, chest heaving and shoulders impossibly tensed. You felt like running to him, pressing your cheek to his chest and saying how sorry you were, that it’d never happen again, that all you wanted was to be good. But some part of you decided to leave it, to wait and see what he’d do— to see how far he’d take his anger.

“Bear—”

“Bend over the counter.” Carmy spoke, hands on his hips, completely fuming and not in the mood for anything other than obedience.

“W-what?”

“Bend over the fucking counter, m’not gonna repeat myself again.”

You swallowed thickly, wetting your dry lips with a swipe of your tongue before nodding. Moving to the island, you pressed your tummy against the cool marble, leaning forward so your ass jutted out, your chest completely flat and cheek squished.

You could hear the clinking of his belt buckle, the quick swoosh of the leather pulling from the loops on his slacks.

You craned your neck, lips in a pout from the hard surface upon the fat of your cheek, taking a peek at Carmen and watching him fold his belt in half, leather squeaking in your ears and buckle jangling with each slight movement.

His eyes found yours and you saw his jaw tick.

“Gonna show you how to fucking behave.”

You grew tense at his clipped words, cheeks warming and chest heaving against the cold marble, waiting in jumpy anticipation for what was to come.

Carmy tugged at the hem of your pretty dress before flipping it up, tucking it up under the band of your bra to keep it in place— he pulled at your panties too, tugging them up up up, your pussy lips swallowing the gusset of your underwear, the fabric tight and uncomfortable against the seam of your ass and you whimpered when you heard the short cracks of the elastic snapping.

“Carmen—”

“Shut. Up.” He muttered it through gritted teeth, pulling and tugging even harder, bouncing you a little when you were brought to the tips of your toes, having nothing to hold onto apart from keeping your chest flat against the kitchen counter.

“The trouble is I spoil you too much,” he huffed, twisting at the soft pastel of your panties, watching with a little smirk when they slowly started to rip, the elastic hem snapping at the seams, just moments away from falling apart. “give you anything you ask for, treat you like a fuckin’ daddy’s girl.”

“But,” you hiccuped, sobbing at the way the fabric dug into you, leaving your skin raw. “but I am daddy’s girl.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw the way he shook his head, grunting lowly, almost scoffing at the way you decided to pipe up.

“No,” he sighed, you could hear the disappointment and you whined audibly at it, “you ain’t daddy’s girl— ain’t nothing but a fuckin’ bratty whore.”

You continued to sob, tears running freely now, thrashing your legs about to try and get free of his torture— that is, until your panties had finally decided to rip, leaving you bare and sore, feet back to being flat against the tiles, your thighs rubbing mindlessly together, trying to quell the ache between them.

Carmy let the scraps of fabric fall to the floor, pushing at the small of your back and having you arch even deeper— he adjusted the leather belt in his palm, doing a couple practice swings, readying himself.

“P-please, Carmy, not the belt— I’ll be good, I swea—” your babbling was quickly cut off by the flick of the leather, a sharp, searing smack that had you gasping out. “Ow!”

Another one came, inflicted towards your other cheek this time, quick and to the point, no nonsense, just like Carmy and you squealed at the pain, reaching back with your hands, desperate to quell the sting and ache by smoothing the softness of your palms over the welted flesh.

The welts bloomed thick over your skin, throbbing, as if they had their own heartbeat, never seeming to dull— tears already started to flick over your lash line at a mere two spanks and you were afraid to ask how many more he had planned.

“Get your hands outta the fuckin’ way or I swear to fuckin’ god.” Carmy smacked at your wrists repeatedly, gathering them up in a single hand and pressing them firmly against the small of your back, keeping them there, daring you to even twitch a finger.

He started again, raining smacks down on your ass in a quick fashion, grunting at your little squeals and sobs when he caught the space where your ass and thighs met— a sensitive spot, you were sure you’d be able to feel it for days after.

“C-carm, it hurts,” you whined, sobbing into the cool marble, drool dripping down your chin, eyes all swirly and glistening with tears that slowly traipsed down your searing cheeks, messing up your makeup that you so prettily put on for him, for carmy.

“Good,” he huffed, reaching up to push your head down and further into the counter. “S’fuckin supposed to.”

You were full on crying now, throat hitching with each inward take of breath, stuttering and sobbing with watery eyes and a runny nose. It felt like torture, the constant flicks of his wrist feeling like forever, you were glad he didn’t make you count them, because you genuinely had no clue, mind a hazy, fuzzy mess.

Carmy watched with a raised brow when little drips of arousal slipped down your inner thighs— he spread your legs, your cunt glistened in the low light of the kitchen, the constant surge of arousal slicking you up, turning you into a sopping mess.

He paused his spankings, reaching his belted hand down to your pussy, running his raised knuckles along your slit, collecting your sweet slick on his skin, a long sticky, silvery line of arousal connecting his hand to your cunt before snapping away.

“You gettin’ off on this?” He scoffed, embarrassing you further, wiping your wetness off his knuckles and onto the skin of your thigh as if it was some hindrance. “So fuckin’ filthy— tryna teach you a lesson and you’re fuckin’ wet?”

“C-can’t help it,” you sniffled, squeezing your thighs together to try and quell the ache in your clit and to stop dripping all over the tiles. “bein’ so mean.”

He chuckled humourlessly, sucking his teeth with his tongue.

“Oh, I’m bein mean, huh?” he cooed, false and sickly sweet, hands palming over your poor, welted globes, soothing them slightly and you melted into his touch, leaning into him— into your carmy, hoping now he’d let up and go easy on you.

Far too gullible, he thought— he wasn’t gonna let you off that easy.

Carm pinched at your sitting spots, the places that hurt the most when he used his belt on them, just above your thighs— the soft, pliable skin blooming with more heat and nothing to soothe the sting.

“I’ll show you fuckin mean,” he spat, loosening his grip and letting the belt clatter to the floor, hands quick with unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out, jeans barely past his thighs. “told you I’d teach you a fuckin’ lesson.”

[strang3lov3]

Big

Carmy makes it fit.

Tags - big dick Carmy Berzatto (specs in the fic), talking you through it, oral sex, unprotected piv, creampie, hella size kink, dubcon aspects, gentle dom!carmy, painful sex, you’re kind of a crybaby. 2k words

You’ve never been much for fluorescent lighting. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Migraine-inducing, though what isn’t migraine-inducing here? Between all the constant fucking yelling and the unending onslaught of demands and problems, well. It’s enough to make anyone fucking nuts. You wonder daily what the hell you got yourself into, and when’s a good time to leave. 

The clock on the wall shows the time, 1:57 AM. You can do five more minutes, at least. Five more minutes of this - Carmy’s tongue lapping at your folds, his strong nose rubbing against your clit - and you’ll be cumming. The fluorescent lighting of Carmy’s kitchen doesn’t much bother you when your eyes are squeezed shut as he fucks you on his tongue. The once-cold marble counter is now warm with your body heat, and there will be a mess left on it when Carmy’s done with you, cleaned away with the rest of the day’s work. 

“Carmy,” you pant, looking down at him as he eats you. He’s got two fingers deep in your cunt, stroking away at that delicate place inside you. You can’t see the lower half of his face, only his gorgeous, striking blue eyes. It’s amazing how much of his iris has been eaten by pupil, all that endless, sparkling black. 

Carmy’s half-naked, and one of your knees is tossed over his broad shoulders. His free hand is on your thigh, squeezing you to keep you still when you start to shake, losing yourself to your own pleasure. Carmy draws circle after circle onto your throbbing, aching clit, steadily pushing you to meet your peak. You’re making a mess of him, you know. Dripping down his reddened, swollen lips and his chin, dripping down his calloused fingers and into his palm, too. It’s a good thing. He’ll need you soaked. You’ll need yourself soaked. 

He holds you tight when you cum, fucking you through it all on his skillful tongue. His messy curls are tangled around your fingers, and you’re tugging hard enough to hurt him - not that Carmy minds any, no. He’s all but numb to physical pain at this point, that tolerance built up through years of burns and sliced fingers and aching feet that stood for too many hours on end. You’re moaning incoherently until you’re not, instead moaning broken whimpers of his name, in between breathy pleas to stop, Carmy. S - too much, too much. M’done, Carmy. Fuck, fuck, please…  

Carmy pulls away finally and wipes his mouth on your inner thigh, then stands up. You kiss him then, tasting yourself on your lips. Your hands are on his cheeks, flushed the most gorgeous shade of red, then travel lower. Down his thick neck, taking care to trace the pulsing veins in his throat. They stop at his shoulders and you allow yourself to squeeze his biceps before sliding down his toned torso, reaching for the button of his pants. Carmy stops you, and you give him a look.

He’s hiding something. You can see in his eyes that he is, and you wonder what’s up. “Carm?”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just close your eyes.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I want you to, okay? Would you do that for me? Please?” 

You smile, tilt your head. “Is it a surprise?” 

Carmy exhales shakily, pulling his tattooed hand down his face. “Yeah, maybe. Just close ‘em, okay?” You look at Carmy skeptically, but gently close your eyes anyway, nerves on fire as you anxiously anticipate what comes next. 

Carmy takes a deep breath, then unbuttons his pants and reaches into them. He knows he’ll hurt you, that’s all, and he doesn’t need you to be intimidated by his size. That’s why he doesn’t let you look, and it’s why he doesn’t let you feel. It’s like getting bloodwork done, right? You’ll feel that pinch either way, but it’ll be worse if you watch it happen. So don’t look. 

He pulls himself out and reaches between your thighs, using your arousal to lubricate his length, then repeats the action. He spits into his palm for good measure, too.

Carmy spreads your legs and tilts your hips and god, you’re feeling fucking electric. You feel it everywhere, in your fingers and toes and in your fluttering stomach. It’d be a disservice to yourself not to witness his cock parting your folds, right? And fuck Carmy, anyway - how many times a day does he ignore you? 

He positions himself at your entrance, then slides his cockhead through your slippery folds. Right as he notches himself inside you and you feel the initial, painful stretch of that, you open your eyes to get a look at that completely gorgeous and utterly erotic sight.

Your face drops and your lips part, at a total loss for words. You shake your head and try to squirm away, but Carmy keeps you right at your place on the countertop, holding up a hand. “Carmy–”

“No, no, no, don’t get all fuckin’ freaked out, okay? It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Mm-mm, Carmy. You’re fucking - you - you’re–”

“It’s gonna be fine,” he repeats. “Hey - it’s. Fine. You can do this.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

You should have expected it, honestly. It was naive to think Carmy would be anything less than above average, when the rest of him is so fucking…big. All that man, those big fucking shoulders and his thick thighs, that big personality. His hands are big too, knuckles are thick and his fingers are long. 

Eyeing his cock, it looks maybe eight inches in length, give or take. Fuck, not that that’d help you any. He’s girthy, and thick like a fucking beer can. Maybe even more than that. You’re not sure you could wrap one of your hands all the way around him, and that scares you. He curves gently to the right, and his pubic hair looks like it’s not been trimmed in a while. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he whispers. 

“You already are,” you reply. Carmy looks up and away, sighing heavily. He runs his hand through his hair and then firmly holds your hips, making you squeak when he inches himself a hair further into you. And this is exactly why he didn’t want you to look. But hey, whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, right? Does he not experience that law every day in this godforsaken restaurant? 

You cry out, watching in distress as Carmy readies to fit himself deeper into you. “Hey, relax, okay? Don’t look, honey. Eyes on me. Can you do that, hm? Can you look at me?” Carmy stops you from shaking your head, then holds your cheek in his large palm. “You can look at me. Right here. We’ll do it a little bit at a time, yeah?” 

“I don’t know, Carm,” you tell him. “Fuck, it’s scary.”  

“Nah, it’s not scary,” Carmy murmurs, pushing into you a little more. “You got thick skin, don’t you? You’d have to, right? Working here, for me,” he jokes, though you don’t laugh. Humor never was his strong suit. 

“No,” you mumble.

“Oh, I think you’re full of shit. Yes, you do.” 

The argument stops there for no reason beyond that’s simply Carmy’s will. If he lets it go on, you’ll be here all fucking night crying with his cock all but an inch inside you. He’s not mean about it, he’s not forceful. He’s just…assertive. And you need that, don’t you? His gentle yet firm hand nudging you into place. Carmy gives you a kiss, then tells you that you can do this. 

Your eyes drop to where his body begins to meet yours as he slides into you so excruciatingly slowly, all that length stuffing you nearly full already, and he’s not even a quarter of the way in. You moan in pain, wriggling in his grasp as he fills you. 

“Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look. Right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, maintaining steady eye contact with you as he guides himself into your slick, aching cunt, ignoring the pain of your nails digging into his muscled shoulders. “Easy - woah, easy. Let up,” he tells you when you squeeze him. Not that he doesn’t love your tight fucking pussy, but you really are only making it worse for yourself. And Carmy’s not a psychopath, despite what Richie says. He doesn’t want to hurt you. God, never. You already have such a low pain tolerance to begin with. You can’t handle a cut or a burn the way others usually can, and that’s not a flaw on your part, but it is something that probably needs to be worked on. He’s just helping you, is all. 

Your face breaks, the pain written in your expression. It’s your furrowed brows, your frown, your worried eyes. Carmy slides maybe four inches into you, about halfway there. “We’ll take a minute,” Carmy says, pausing. He keeps you where you are and reaches for a nearby plastic takeout container full of ice water, taking a sip for himself before offering it to you. 

You’re a fucking wreck. There’s tears streaming down your cheeks, which Carmy wipes away with a gentle swipe of his thumb. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says, waiting patiently for you to finish. He takes the container back from you and sets it down. 

“I know it hurts,” Carmy says, breathing deeply. “But you’re doing good, okay?” His neck and chest are flushed, too, all red and splotchy. His skin is damp with his own sweat. He feels for you, really. He wouldn’t want to be in your position either, truth be told. 

“Promise?” 

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.” Carmy rubs your cheeks, offering you a sympathetic look. And you’re still fucking squeezing him, even while he’s not actively pushing into you. Poor thing, only hurting yourself. Carmy knows what your answer’s gonna be when he asks you, “How about I rip off the bandaid, huh? Let me do that?” 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No, no, Carmy–”

“Yes, yes. Yes, because we’re gonna get nowhere if you keep fuckin’ squeezing on me like that, huh?” 

“I’m not trying to.” 

“I know you’re not trying to. Just let me–” Carmy sighs and wipes sweat off of his brow, then takes your hips and thrusts into you quickly and smoothly, eliciting a sharp noise of pain from you. You feel him deep inside yourself, and it’s painful in every conceivable way. The stretch, the dull ache that comes from his cockhead hitting your cervix. 

“Carmy!” 

“Mm, my fuckin’ girl,” he groans, bottoming out inside of you. “Yeah, there. There, okay? Worst is over,” he tells you, knowing that’s probably not true. The song and dance happens all over again as he pulls out of you and then pushes back in, the pain dissipated then renewed. He hushes your whines as he moves his hips, looking down at his cock all coated in creamy rings of your arousal. 

Pleasure comes eventually, which makes it all easier, though only marginally so. Carmy’s thick fucking cock fucking you in half is a sensation you never get used to. The ache and the fullness is ever present, never vanishing. It’s so big and so fucking commanding, so inevitable. “Oh, Carmy. Fuck me, oh my god.” 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Carmy moans, steadily snapping his hips into you. “So fuckin’ - fuck, you’re tight.” 

Carmy rubs your clit to bring near your orgasm while chasing his own, losing the rhythm he had going. He fucks you wildly, pulling your hips off the counter, his heavy balls slapping against you. When you cum, the fierce pulsing of your cunt coaxes his own, and Carmy empties himself into you. He makes the most beautiful noises as he does so, breathing heavily through his nose when he’s done. 

You whimper when he pulls out of you, feeling satisfied by your orgasm, and relieved that it’s over. Carmy reaches for a nearby dish towel and wets it with water, then comes back to you. He nudges your thighs apart, then crouches down. “Let me see, let me look,” he says, assessing the damage. Your poor cunt is gaping, dripping his cum, and your folds are all puffy and swollen. He gently cleans you with the towel, then has you press the cloth against your center. “Hold that there for a minute, yeah? You’re okay, dude.” 

Carmy cleans himself up, then goes back to cleaning the kitchen. He’s got a few things left to do before locking up for the night. 

Ty for reading 🩵 comments, asks, and especially reblogs would be muchly appreciated if you enjoyed

ETA - shutting off anons for the night. You know how it is 🙁 if you have something horny to say, they’ll be back on in the AM 7/2/25

[alisonsfics]

like promised

pairing: carmy berzatto x roommate!reader

summary: getting carmy to agree to pretend to be your boyfriend for your friend’s wedding was no small feat. you promised you’d make it up to him, but even you didn’t imagine that you’d be making it up to him later that night.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, handjob (m recieving), sub!carmy, mini praise kink, lap dance, teasing, shower sex, this devolved into filth pretty quickly, minors DNI

You sat on the couch— reading the same page of your book that you’d been reading for the past hour. You fought back a yawn, glancing towards the clock.

Then, you heard the soft jingle of keys. You turned towards the door to see your roommate, Carmy, sneaking in the front door. He was trying so hard to be quiet, so he wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey, Bear,” you said softly. His eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“Oh, hey, you didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s late.” He said, slipping off his shoes and walking towards the living room to join you.

The room felt warm and cozy now that Carmy was there. His presence brought you so much peace. “It’s okay. I like waiting up for you, and I had something I wanted to talk to you about.” You told him.

“Oh yeah?” He asked as he sat down beside you. He carefully grabbed your book out of your hand, slipping your bookmark in, and then set it on the coffee table.

Then, he laid his head down in your lap, looking up at you. He had bags under his eyes, and his eyes were bloodshot. “You feeling alright?” You asked, your voice laced with concern.

You held your palm against his forehead, seeing if he had a fever. “Just stressed from work— such a disaster tonight,” he mumbled. You tried to pull your hand away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand towards the top of his head.

You quickly understood the gesture. You raked your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp. His eyes fluttered shut. A low groan came out of his lips as he bit down on his button lip.

You tried to ignore the way that the sound made your stomach do a flip.

He opened his eyes, slowly. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” He asked, giving you his undivided attention.

“Don’t worry about it, Carm. You’re stressed enough. I was just gonna ask you a favor, but I can find someone else. It’s okay.” You dismissed it. You didn’t want to add any more responsibilities to his plate— seeing how stressed he was already.

He shook his head. “No no, I’m serious. What’s up? You are not going to burden me, I promise.” He said, knowing your thought process as good as his own.

“I was going to ask you to be my date to my friend’s wedding this weekend.” You replied, nervously watching his response.

Carmy famously hated any occasion where he had to dress up. He found it too formal, and it made him anxious. “I thought Sam was going to that with you.” Carmy asked, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

Up until an hour ago, Sam had been your boyfriend. It wasn’t too serious, but also wasn’t too casual. You’d both been together for five months.

You bit the inside of your cheek— trying to keep the tears away. It was still too fresh. “He broke up with me.” Your voice cracked as the words came out.

You watched Carmy’s expression fall, hurting for you. He quickly sat up, pulling you into his arms. “I am so sorry.” He said, nestling his head into the crook of your neck.

You let your fingers curl around the hem of his tshirt. You buried yourself in his chest. He smelled like citrus. “Of course I’ll go with you.” He whispered, rubbing your back.

You tried to protest. “But you’re so busy, Carm.” You argued. He squeezed you tighter, swaying from side to side. “Doesn’t matter. You need me, so I’m gonna be there.” He assured you.

“I’ll make it up to you, Carm. I promise. Thank you.” You whispered back.

You both fell asleep on the couch after Carmy put on a movie trying to cheer you up. As soon, as you rested your head on his chest, you were fast asleep. It took Carmy longer to fall asleep, just stroking your hair and watching you breathe.

When you woke up, you stretched out, reaching for Carmy. You squinted at the sunlight bursting in through the curtains. When your eyes adjusted to the light, you realized you were in your bed.

Carmy must have carried you in there at some point.

Then, you heard two loud voices echoing off the walls of the apartment. Both of them were rambling and saying a million words a minute.

You climbed out of bed, searching for the culprits. You walked into the doorway to Carmy’s bedroom.

The door was wide open, displaying Carmy and Richie loudly talking over each other. There were clothes thrown all over Carmy’s bed— almost like he’d taken every single item out of his dresser.

It took them both a few minutes to realize you were there. Finally, Carmy accidentally spotted you, and then did a double take. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did we wake you?” He asked, rushing to your side.

You shook your head. “What’re you guys doing?” You asked, leaning your head on Carmy’s shoulder for support. It was way too early to be awake.

“I asked Richie to help me pick an outfit for the wedding.” Carmy said it like it was obvious, “what color is your dress?”

“It’s green— wait…why?” You asked. Your brain wasn’t awake yet, and they were a bit too awake for you to process what was happening.

“Well, we have to match.” Carmy said, shrugging. You wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him lightly. Your heart swelled as you saw how excited he was about his outfit.

“I think we have a winner, cousin.” Richie said, holding up a grey suit jacket with a sage green tie.

Carmy stared at it for a minute, looking it over. “Yeah, I like it. What do you think?” He said, looking down at where your head was resting on his shoulder.

“It’s lovely, Carm. I’m making coffee. It’s far too early for this. You guys want some?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen.

The next week flew by with Carmy asking you questions about the wedding everyday.

Did he need to bring a gift? No, you’d handled the gift already.

Who was getting married? Their names were Leanne and Peter.

How did you know them? You went to college with Leanne.

Was he going to pretend to be your boyfriend or just a friend? You both had settled on the choice of fake boyfriend. It was better than explaining that your real boyfriend had dumped you a week before the wedding.

You both were currently sitting in your hotel room because the wedding was at a quaint little orchard outside the city. You were doing your makeup and hair on your bed, while Carmy quietly ironed his outfit.

It was so peaceful, and you both felt so comfortable around each other. You knew how rare it was to find someone you could just enjoy silence with.

“Alright, how do I look?” You showed off your makeup to Carmy.

He glanced up from the iron, and his face immediately lit up. “Oh my god, you look so beautiful.” He complimented, beckoning you over to him.

He quietly studied your face, appreciating every minute of work that had gone into it. “Thank you, Carm. Do you need the bathroom or can I go get dressed real quick?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “No, go ahead.” He said, giving your hips a quick gentle squeeze. You felt your skin heat up under his touch.

You quickly locked yourself in the bathroom. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and noticed the smile that was plastered to your face.

This crush on Carmy was going to destroy you.

When you exited the bathroom, you saw Carmy adjusting his tie in the mirror.

He immediately turned when he sensed you behind him. He was glowing. “Wow…you look…so beautiful, oh my god.” His voice came out as a whisper. He was completely mesmerized by you.

You did a spin, letting Carmy admire you from every angle.

He reached out for your hand, pulling you closer to him. He was still speechless. “Thank you.” You said, unable to get the smile off your face.

Carmy spent the entire ceremony sneaking glances at you, which you pretended not to notice.

When you got past the ceremony and dinner, to the reception, you were ready to let loose and have fun with Carmy.

“You want to go dance?” Carmy asked, nudging your leg with his.

Your shock was written all over your face. Carmy was not a dancer. “You don’t have to do that.” You assured him.

“I promised to be your pretend boyfriend. You get all the romance.” He said, standing and holding his hand out to you.

You slipped your hand into his— electricity surging between the both of you. Carmy had been such a good doting pretend boyfriend for the day.

When you got to the dance floor, Carmy’s arms protectively wrapped around your waist.

You should’ve known that pretending to date your roommate who you were in love with would lead to complicated emotions.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight.” You whispered, leaning your head against his temple. His thumbs rubbed circles into your back, softly caressing the satin fabric of your dress.

“I love spending time with you.” He responded.

The air felt electric between the two of you— like an invisible current was connecting you both.

“Oh my god, your dress is so beautiful.” You heard someone say over your shoulder.

You turned and saw Leanne, the bride. Carmy loosened his grip on you, letting you pull her into a hug. “Me? Look at you— you look amazing. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and Peter.” You told her.

“And who do we have here?” Leanne asked, gesturing towards Carmy.

“This is my boyfriend, Carmen.” You said, leaning into his touch. His arm wrapped back around your waist. He softly pressed a kiss against your temple.

He couldn’t resist. He couldn’t explain the way he felt about you. He just always had the urge to be close to you.

“You guys are so cute together. How did you guys meet?” She asked, smiling at you both.

“We actually met because we were both looking for a roommate, and we started living together. And it took me a while to get the courage to ask her on a date.” Carmy said, looking over at you with a gaze of love.

“He’s a chef. You have to go to his restaurant, if you’re ever in the city. He’s very talented.” You complimented.

“I have to make a few more rounds, but it’s so nice to see you again.” She said, before moving on to talking to other people.

He tugged you back into his grasp, swaying to the music with you. “What would I have to do to convince you to dip me?” You asked him, teasingly.

He chuckled, looking down at his shoes. “You’re adorable, you know that?” He laughed, leaning in and kissing your nose.

You both froze as you realized what he’d just done. He didn’t know why he did it. He just knew he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to dote on you and adore you.

You paused, thinking over your words before you said them.

“You maybe want to head back to the hotel and call it a night?” You asked, titling your head to the side.

Carmy furrowed his eyebrows— wondering if he’d heard you right. The was a slight twinkle in your eyes, leading him to believe you meant something else. He quickly nodded, too nervous to even respond.

His hand stayed glued in yours the whole way back to the hotel.

When you finally got back to the room, Carmy sunk back into the couch. His eyes rolled down your frame as you stood in front of him.

“You want a drink?” You asked as you grabbed two mini bottles of liquor out of the mini fridge.

He quickly nodded. If this night was going where he thought it was, he needed the liquid courage. You sat next to Carmy, your thigh pressed up against his.

He took a bottle out of your hand, quickly downing the shot. You reached out, swiping your thumb against the liquid resting on his bottom lip.

Carmy watched with wide eyes as you licked the liquor off your thumb. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously.

Something about Carmy’s gaze on you made you feel powerful. You slowly unscrewed this cap on your bottle and downed the liquor. The warmth spread down your throat into your stomach. It joined the warmth that was also spreading between your thighs.

You grabbed onto Carmy’s shoulders, pulling yourself to straddle his lap. “Wh-what’re you doin’?” He mumbled, nervously licking his lips.

“I told you I’d make it up to you.” You whispered, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. His pupils were blown out. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, seeing you on top of him like this.

“Is that okay?” You asked, noticing his silence.

His chest rapidly rose and fell. “Fuck yes,” he begged you breathlessly.

You tugged off his suit jacket and shirt, letting them fall to the floor. He rested his arms along the backside of the couch, watching you carefully.

You nuzzled your nose into his neck, softly sucking on the skin. A moaned escaped his lips. Your lips felt like heaven on him. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take good care of you.” You whispered, continuing working on the bruise that was starting to form on his neck.

His hips bucked up against yours— frantically and desperately.

“Patience, baby,” you mumbled, slowly unbuckling his belt. There was a buzz of anticipation in the air. You fumbled with the belt, successfully unbuckling it.

Your hand slipped down into his pants, palming him through the outside of his boxers. “Oh, fuck,” he swore, pushing your hand harder against his hardened length.

You clicked your tongue at him, disapprovingly.

“You gotta be patient. You’ve gotta wait longer now.” Your tone was teasing.

Carmy felt like he was going to burst if you didn’t touch him soon.

You stood up off his lap, pulling your dress off over your head. He swore under his breath as he laid eyes on the lacy lingerie set you were wearing. “You like what you see, baby?” You asked him, softly.

He furiously nodded his head, resisting the urge to reach out to touch you. He knew you’d just make him wait longer. You ran your fingers over the lace of your bra, softly humming under your own touch.

Every inch of his body screamed at him to jump up and touch you.

You slipped one of your hands under your bra, toying with your nipple. Your mouth hung open, softly moaning. His pants were clearly strained as his erection threatened to break free.

You turned around for him, running your hands up the back of your thighs and then over your ass— cupping and squeezing the flesh.

“Please, honey. Need you to touch me,” Carmy begged you.

You faced him again. A devious smirk appeared on your face as you straddled him again.

You quickly unclasped your bra, dropping it behind you. “Remember to keep your hands to yourself, baby.” You instructed.

You massaged your breasts, taking one in each hand. His eyes lingered on your hardened buds— yearning to lean forward and put his mouth on you.

You reached your hands up and pushed against the wall above Carmys head. You leaned closer to him, your tits hanging inches from Carmy’s face.

You bounced on his lap. Your clothed core brushed against his cock through his pants. A strained moan escaped his lips, which only encouraged you. You continued bouncing up and down— your tits bounced in front of his face while you teasingly grinded against him.

“Please, honey, gonna cum in my pants. Please touch me.” He begged you, panting.

“Oh, you pretty baby. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You said, pressing your lips against his temple.

You slipped your hand into his pants, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He swore under his breath as soon as you touched him. His cock was already twitching in your hand.

His head fell back as his mouth hung agape. Melodic grunts and moans fell freely from his lips. He was coming apart in your hand, and you knew it.

“You like that, baby?” You asked, speeding up your pace as you slid your hand up and down his cock. He just whimpered in response, thrusting his hips into your hand.

His eyes were clamped shut, and there was a trail of sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re doing so good for me, baby, but you gotta open your eyes for me. Want to watch you fall apart, Carm.” You told him.

His eyes locked onto yours. The eye contact felt too intimate, even though you had your hand stuffed down his pants jerking him off. “I’m gonna…oh god, oh fuck, I’m—I’m—I’m cumming.” He yelled, shooting his seed into his boxers.

“Making a mess in your pants, doing such a good job” you coaxed him down from his high. You slowed your pace, slowing stroking his cock and coating it with his own cum.

You gingerly kissed his temple, watching as he gasped for breath.

“I’m gonna run you a nice hot shower to get cleaned up, baby.” You whispered in his ear.

He grabbed for your waist, pulling you back to him. “Will you…go with me?” He asked, still trying to catch his breath.

“I was planning on it.” You winked at him as you headed towards the bathroom. You closed the door behind you, creating some suspense.

You started the shower and then ditched your panties, which were the last thing you were wearing.

When you opened the door and Carmy saw you standing there fully naked, he thought he was going to cum again on the spot.

You sauntered over to him, pulling him to his feet. He watched, breathlessly, as you pulled his pants and boxers down his legs.

Then, you tugged him into the bathroom with you.

You stepped in to the shower first, letting the warm water run over your body. Carmy stared as the water rolled down your breasts, dripping off your nipples.

You noticed his hesitancy and pulled inside with you before closing the shower door.

“Look at you, baby. You made such a mess.” You said, looking down at his cock that was covered in his sticky seed.

“Let me clean up you.” You said, pulling him under the water and using your hand to rub him clean.

He swore in his head. He was already embarrassingly hard in your hand and ready for round two.

He leaned his head forward and rested it against your shoulder. “Don’t wanna to cum in your hand again.” He whispered against your skin.

You barely heard him over the sound of the water. “Where do you want to cum?” You asked him, softly stroking his cock.

“In you, please,” he was begging.

You pushed his shoulders, so he sat down on the tile seat in the shower. He watched you hungrily as you straddled his lap.

You held onto his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He grabbed your hips, bracing himself.

You sunk down onto his cock, watching as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Fuck, Carmy, you’re so big,” you swore. You moaned as he rolled your hips against his.

His nails sunk into your hips, afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You held onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock. Neither of you could stay silent. Carmy was whimpering and calling out your name. You were swearing under your breath.

“Feel that baby? How deep inside me you are? Making me feel so good,” you moaned as he brushed up against your g-spot.

Your praise gave him a new confidence. He leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples— swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, cupping the back of his head. His other hand slid down between your legs, toying with your clit. You called out his name, letting your nails sink into his shoulders.

You sped up your pace, chasing your orgasm. Your stomach was in tight knots as he perfectly stretched you out. “I’m gonna cum, baby. You gonna cum with me?” You asked, encouraging him.

He nodded. He lifted his hips up, meeting your thrusts halfway. You both thrashed against each other, chasing your highs. You felt like you were seeing stars.

Your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami. You moaned Carmy’s name so loud, you were expecting a noise complaint from the hotel. Then, his hips bucked against yours, shooting ropes of cum into you— coating your walls.

“So good,” Carmy repeated your name like a prayer.

He met your lips in a kiss as you both came down from your highs. “I’m glad you came with me this weekend.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah me too,” he mumbled breathlessly.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guiltandguitarstrings @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @iamavailablesstuff @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore  @astheskycries @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @marvelcasey05 @velyssaraptor @amanda08319 @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x @princesssunderworld @khxna @linkpk88

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my fics or for a specific character/fandom!!

[bxrbieq]

Nap - College era!Lip Gallagher x reader

my first story be nice idk if there’s still a shameless fandom on this app

mdni 18+!!

Word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut, cursing, somnophilia sorta?

You’d spent a couple hours wandering around the Gallagher household socializing and searching the cabinets, but you settled on laying in Lip's bed waiting for him to get home. College hadn’t been great for him so far, and you wanted to make sure to be around to make him feel better however you could. 

After scrolling on your phone for a while, you start to doze off. his bed was too comfortable and smelled too much like him to not fall asleep. After next to no shut-eye, you’re woken up as you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. 

Rolling over to face the door, Lip walks in looking more tired than usual. As he saw you laying in his bed, rubbing your eyes and giving him a welcoming smile, he couldn't help but give a grin in return. 

“God it's good to see you.” he sighs while kicking off his boots and shutting the door behind him. He quickly gets into bed next to you after sliding his pants off, wrapping his arms around you and snuggling into the crook of your neck. 

You both remain in comfortable silence until Lip falls asleep on your chest. Petting his hair you just look down and admire his face, feeling him breathing against your chest. 

You start to doze off yourself before you feel his breath hitch as he wiggles a little in his sleep. Mumbling under his breath, you felt something shift on your thigh. You blushed, realizing what was going through your boyfriend's head. 

His mumbling increases, mixed in with quiet whimpers. He gets more aggressive, subconsciously grinding his hard on into the side of your leg. You couldn’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about…

“Mm… please… y/n” 

Oh. 

Not only was he having a wet dream, that dream was about you. It’s not surprising, not like he didn’t have memories to go off of, but flattering nonetheless. 

His grinding continues, his hand unconsciously sliding under your loose shirt. As he makes his way up to your chest, you feel your pussy clench. 

You wonder what his dream entailed. Your lips over the head of his cock? Watching your ass clap as he fucks you from behind? Maybe just eating you out? Whether or not your theories were true, they only made you more excited. 

Returning to the moment, you decide to take action, reaching down to his now leaking member you begin to palm him through his boxers. The new contact made him stir, slowly batting his eyes open.

He first realizes his hand is on your tit, nipple already hardened by his unconscious massaging. Next, he sees your face, eyes closed as you bite your lip and gently stroke him, replacing the friction from your thigh. 

Biting his lip, he gives your nipple a quick squeeze in an attempt to get your attention. He succeeds and you open your eyes to look at the grinning man beside you. Using his unoccupied hand, he cups your face and softly kisses you. As he does so he rolls on top of you, grinding into your cunt, with only your thin panties and his boxers between you two. 

One hand returning to your tit and the other having snaked its way under your back, the kiss deepens. Your arms lazily drape around his neck while you moan into the kiss, savoring the friction his grinding provided. 

Your whimpering was what he needed in order to make his way down south, replacing his fingers with his mouth as he latches onto your tit. That hand reaches your still clothed pussy and Lip begins rubbing circles on your already excited clit. 

The new contact makes a more intense moan leave your mouth, encouraging lip further. 

“You like that, pretty girl?” he says, his hot breath hitting your chest. You nod and push your hips up towards his hand. 

Your desperation leads him to push down your panties, giving himself access to your heat. He slips his middle finger inside you, looking in your eyes as he continues nipping at your tit. The image alongside the sensation makes you clench on his finger as he begins sliding in and out.

It doesn’t take long for you to release, soaking his already wet finger. as you do, the Gallagher talks you through your orgasm. 

“God you’re so much better than a fucking wet dream” 

You grab his face and bring him into a kiss as he slips his finger out. He breaks away after a second to say 

“I think it's your turn to help me out a little, hun”, popping his finger into his mouth and sucking off the excess. The sight alone gets you going again.  

“I guess it is”

He grins and rolls onto his back, beckoning you with two fingers to climb on top. You obey, right after sliding his boxers down his legs. His cock springs out from its confines, hitting his stomach. mounting him and taking his cock in your hand you run the tip through your slit. 

“Don’t fuckin tease me, baby. I've waited long enough.”

Obliging, you sink down onto his borderline rock solid dick, feeling the slight stretch you’re used to with him. He thrusts into you to close the gap between your pussy and the base of his cock. He groans when you start bouncing up and down slightly 

His hands find your hips and grip them to give himself more control over your movements. 

“Cmon hun.. if you’re gonna look like such a pretty slut on top of me act like it. Ride me like you mean it.” he says, reaching up and grazing your jaw with his thumb. The way he looks at you through his long eyelashes assures you’re gonna do what he says. 

You start moving your hips in circles, until his tip hits the perfect spot making you moan. Staying at the angle you bounce up and down as Lip grunts underneath you. 

“That's right, taking it so well… I fuckin love watching my cock push into you.”

You can hear how wet you are, the huge mess you’re making on him. He takes his hand from your hip to rub your clit with his knuckle. The new contact pushing you over the edge as you clench around him. 

“Fuck please I’m gonna cum” you whimper as you grip his chest and grind down onto him. 

“That’s it, cum for me baby you’ve earned it.” you ride out the long high and collapse onto his heaving chest, taking yourself off his cock.

After a moment you realize he’s still firm, you had been too distracted by your own orgasm to notice he hadn’t finished himself. 

Legs still shaking slightly you scoot down to the edge of the bed and place your mouth on his length, already sufficiently lubed. 

“Y’know I was hoping you’d notice I’m still hard. Didn’t wanna have to finish myself off in the bathroom.” he chuckles, making you grin around his tip. You bob up and down using all the tricks you know he loves. 

Before long his moans get breathier and more consistent, and you know he’s close. Taking your mouth off and using your hand, you jerk him to completion. Letting out one final groan as he shoots upwards, hitting your face. 

You boyfriend looks down at you and grins, 

“You got a lil somethin’… there” he says, using his pointer finger to make an imaginary circle around your face. 

“If you’re gonna be a smartass next time I'll just have you hump my leg, Gallagher.”

[floralpools]

Competition

Warnings: Smut, M!receiving, penetration (w protection), language, enemies (ish) to lovers

Pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x reader

Summary: After "Beef's" rebranding as "The Bear," business at your cafe has declined, which left you furious, and that anger only worsened after meeting the restaurant's owner.

Word count: 3.4k

...

Ever since I was young, I've always had this unnecessary, aggressive competitiveness, which has only grown since its opening; The Bear, formerly known as "Beef," has become Chicago's newest hit. Its success has been so impactful, that it's driven away numerous customers, including regulars from my spot, just across the street.

My cafe has been open for years. Its income has been steady from the get-go, and the presence of a certain sandwich shop has never deterred that. Not until said sandwich place suddenly turned into a high-end restaurant. It crossed my mind that it simply shut down due to its infamous unpopularity, but Richie was still waltzing into my cafe to order coffee, as per usual.

So, being curious enough about what had happened to "The Beef," I go visit, expecting to be greeted by the "ever-so-pleasant" owner, Michael. But instead—

"Uh, he died," Neil mutters rather awkwardly, fidgeting with his fingers. My eyes expand in complete shock.

"Oh my god, sorry, I had no idea." I grimace at my lack of sensitivity. "It's alright." He shakes his head.

Silence envelops us both before I speak again. "So, um, how come you're still here? If you don't mind me asking?" I grimace again at my poor choice of words, saying, "I swear I'm not trying to be rude." Neil tilts his head in confusion. "Whatta mean?"

"I just assumed you wouldn't be, here, since...?"

"Ah, yeah, Mike left the place to his little bro, Carmy." He waves his arms around, gesturing to the restaurant's interior. "And he did all this, sick right?"

"Yeah... Sick." I mumble with a pout, failing to hide my contempt, but my sour mood goes right over his head.

"Fak!" A man's loud, demanding voice, quiets my rearing thoughts. "Fak! What the fuck are you doing? I need you in here." The voice grows stronger as the chef it belongs to pushes through the kitchen doors. I just about hold my breath at the sight of him. In his all-white get-up, his deep blue eyes have yet to notice me, as he addresses Neil angrily. "The fucking toilet's still broken." He throws his arm up in frustration, "So would you please, get off your ass and fix it!" He commands Neil, and I jump at his dangerous tone. My brows furrow. There was no need for him to shout so rudely, not to mention that it was really bothering me, how he had yet to acknowledge my presence even once. Not only was he stealing my business, but he didn't give a rats-ass about it.

"Shit! Yeah, on it! I was just talking to—"

"Y/n." I announce my name roughly, and his eyes bounce from Neil to me instantly. Appearing startled, he hesitates to extend his palm for a handshake. "Carmy, sorry about him—" Just as he begins waving off Fak, apologizing for his behaviour, I snap.

"No, he was the perfect gentleman, as always," I protest, "I just came to check on the competition." Carmy's brows knit together, and I can feel the vein in my forehead pop out. "I own the cafe across the street," I state plainly, and he slowly nods in recognition. "It was nice to see you, have a great day," I commend with a smile, directed only to Neil. With that, I spin out the door, stomping vigorously towards my shop.

...

The next time I saw Carmy was nearly a month later, on garbage day. He happened to be taking the trash out that evening, exactly when I was. I sigh at how little he struggles to lift several trash bags. Looking away, I huff as I throw the plastic sacks into the massive tin container. After finishing, I stretch out my back, rubbing my hands together. Shortly rolling my head back, I observe the evening sky. I exhale, releasing a breath of cool air from my lips.

My skin pricks as I feel someone watching me and shift my gaze towards "The Bear." I instantly identify the sapphire eyes latched onto me. When I catch Carmy, his eyes fly in every which direction, clearly embarrassed. 'The hell? Okay dickhead, hello to you too.' I think, shaking my head as I go inside, once again, feeling the heat of his stare as I do.

An hour later, I complete the last of my chores before locking up the cafe. Removing the key from the door, I pivot towards my car. However, I stumble when a figure standing not far behind me approaches, causing me to unleash a horrid scream from the depths of my throat. Carmy's eyes widen, evidently apologetic and equally terrified. "Uh sorry! I didn't mean—"

"What the actual fuck, is your problem?" I practically hiss.

"Sorry, I was thinking about saying something before you turned around. But then I second-guessed myself and just did nothing," Carmy blabbers, "I'm really really sorry."

"Okay okay." I put up my hands in surrender to stop his rambling. It's rather disarming, after our first meeting, hearing how he sounds so... Timid. "Sorry." He mumbles once more, head hung low.

"You're good," I reassure him with a sigh, to cover up an unexpected giggle. "Um, so what're you doing, here?"

"Oh!" He jolts upright and his eyes shoot from the ground to mine. "I just wanted to uh, talk."

"You 'wanted to talk'?" I question, a brow arching in disbelief.

"Uh, yeah," Carmy replies with uncertainty.

Folding my arms, I sigh, "About?"

"Oh, um, just about, how I acted when we met," Carmy scowls at the memory. "I should've introduced myself way sooner, and not in such a—"

"Rude way," I interject, which seems to be a common occurrence between us.

"Heard." He huffs out what sounds like a laugh, "Exactly that." I then shift uncomfortably under his intense watch. "It's alright, I didn't exactly intend to be gracious myself," I utter, returning a similar, shy smile.

"No, no." His smile widens, "You were..." He and his gaze trail off, lowering to the concrete. "'Were'?" I repeat, imploring him to continue.

"Great." Carmy finishes, peering up again. His eyes appear somewhat different, and I feel an unfamiliar chill slide down my spine. "Wow." My eyebrows rise. "'Great,' that's a, really, kind of you," I splutter with a chuckle. Carmy joins in, laughing at himself.

After a beat of silence and a few stolen glances at one another, Carmy speaks up. "I know I should've said it a while ago, but I'd like to be on good terms, rather than 'competition'." My sight hones in on his active hands as they switch between fiddling with his back pockets and shaking. "I'd like that too," I murmur, scratching the back of my head. "If only you'd stop stealing my customers," I smirk.

"Oh?" He smiles playfully and tilts his head, "So that's how it's gonna be," he jests, laughing again.

"Hmmm," I hum in confirmation, slightly troubled by how flirtatious I'm being. But damn, the way he's always looking at me —it's throwing me off...

Flushed, I conclude our conversation, "I'll see you around," then walk to my car. He almost, absentmindedly, wanders alongside me. "Yeah, see you."

While I unlock my car, Carmy's already one step ahead of me, hauling the car door open. I thank him in a whisper as I bend into the front seat, brushing past him, and he tenses. He then mumbles my name with a "Goodnight," and I sit in silence, long after he leaves, breathless.

...

The next day, I feel giddy at the prospect of seeing Carmy. It's ridiculous, considering he was my neighbour, and I was bound to see him. Though I've actually had to refrain from seeking him out.

However, that afternoon, through the glass of both our eateries, we see one another, pause, smile slowly, and head back to work.

From that point on, that sort of thing became a routine. Every day that week, I saw him for at least 50 seconds. It was even better knowing he was a chef, so the likelihood of him seeing him out front was low, but still, each time he'd be there.

Come Sunday, I couldn't delay things any longer. It was a little disheartening that he hadn't come over himself or even thought to come and ask for my number.

Thus, I knew I had to be the one to make a move. So, after closing earlier than usual, I saunter across the street. Inside, Neil greets me with an ample smile. "Hey Neil," I wave. He virtually shouts my name in return. "Hey! What you in for?" He asks cheerfully.

"I was hoping for some dinner," I chuckle. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and the anticipation is killing me. While Neil leads me to a table, my eyes don't leave the kitchen's entrance.

Neil takes my order, and my ears attentively listen for those few moments, when the restaurant's crowd temporarily quiets down, and I hear his assertive voice filter through the walls.

...

As delicious as my meal is, I can't stop my anxiety from getting the best of me. It's plausible Neil didn't bother letting Carmy know that I was here. But I'm nearly vibrating with dread, waiting for him to materialize.

Eventually, it's closing time and the herd of patrons leave. I take the opportunity to call Neil over. "Hey, I was just wondering if Carmy was in? Just wanna say hello, be neighbourly and all," I beam innocently.

"Course!" He winks but doesn't move to get Carmy. So, after a long beat staring into Fak's clueless eyes (bless him), I come up with something dicey. "Could you let him know that my food's uncooked, and I'm very, very upset," I express sharply, biting back a grin.

"O-okay?" Neil stutters, confusion and distress written across his features. I suppress my laugh with my palm.

Five minutes later, I hear a loud and hostile "what" seep through the walls. My attempts to muffle my laughter are stumped when Carmy abruptly bursts through the doors. He freezes when he sees me, and I watch the doors rapidly swing behind him. I awkwardly raise my hand in hello, and I swear he gulps.

"I was joking, Carmy." Now growing nervous, I tear my eyes away from him, onto my clear plate and see him move towards me from my peripheral. "It was, pretty good actually," I remark, downplaying the truth.

As I open my mouth to fill the silence, I peek up to see Carmy sitting right in front of me, and I lose my train of thought. It's as though we're on a date, and that's the most normal thing in the world, something we've done countless times before.

"I was planning on coming to see you after work." His sheepish, yet deep timbre makes me shudder.

"Beat you to it then?" I smirk smugly.

"Didn't we say this wasn't a rivalry?" He smirks back, and my stomach forms knots. "Nothing wrong with some friendly competition," I retort, and his reply is a simple, pleasant smile.

"Well Chef, I'm sorry to hear you're closing soon," I sigh. Still smiling, he raises his brows, "Because?"

"Because the food was decent, but I'm still quite hungry." I proclaim teasingly, shrugging. He chuckles lowly, "We can't have that."

...

Now sitting on Carmy's kitchen stool while he cooks me an omelet on his stove, I inspect his backside. The muscles tense and shift as he moves expertly through the room.

"I hope this suits your refined palette," Carmy remarks with a certain ease that he didn't have before. He pushes a plate towards me, and I reel at how domestic this all feels. I lick my lips in excitement as the delicious, potent smell of the dish consumes my senses.

Taking a bite, I withhold a moan, and close my eyes so he doesn't catch them rolling to the back of my head. Swallowing, I open my lids to see Carmy's eyes studying me, expectingly awaiting a reaction. "It's alright," I state monotonously.

Eyes and mouth expanding, he smacks his hands on his chest, overlapping them over top of his heart, like he's been shot, and a laugh escapes me. "I make it better," I contest.

"I don't doubt that," he responds without a hint of condescension, and I gape at him before giggling nervously, eyeing my omelette.

"So, what would satisfy your elite tastes?" His words may be rather suggestive, but his tone is short and reserved. Glancing up at his expression, I note the way he sluggishly runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His view then trains over my features, lingering on my lips...

Not giving him a chance to refocus on anything but my mouth, I lunge at his. Capturing his lips with mine, I hear a fumble of noises leave him pitifully. The sounds morph into a mixture of bewilderment and a cavernous groan. His hesitancy is brief as one of his hands curves behind my head, into my hair, while the other gropes my waist, bunching up my shirt in a tight fist. His groaning becomes more brazen, and I devour every single one.

Our tongues fight each other, and our hips wrestle with the kitchen island that separates us. Determined to feel more of him, I pull away from his wretched kiss. He instinctively chases after me, but my hands firmly press against his chest, which seems to bring his attention to my eyes. He more or less whines to himself.

I lick my swollen lips, holding eye contact in hopes it would help him understand what I wanted.

His grasp moves from my torso, to hold my hand, tugging me towards what I assume is his bedroom. As he maneuvers around the counter, I decide that I just can't wait. So, when we pass his living room area, I drag him back, and to his surprise, shove him onto his couch.

His back hits the cushions and he releases a grunt. Immediately, I straddle his hips and he makes haste to grip my hips, pressing me further onto his crotch. I whimper nosily, and it's his turn to hum back. "You're so..."

"Great?" I quip.

"Beautiful, is what I was gonna say— should've said." His baby blues melt me to my core. The intimacy of his look and words, somehow mean so much more, than everything we've just done.

After a short break of just breathing in each other, I press my lips to his gently, pecking them. This seems to snap him out of whatever trance he's under, as a peck is clearly not enough.

His hefty grip on my hips increases and encourages me to lean closer. His mouth dictates my every move and sound, and I wriggle above him. "Carmy," I whine desperately, begging for more.

He lets go of me to strip, sitting upright to remove his white-collar shirt. I moan at the sight, before copying him, working my shirt off. When I struggle, he rips the cotton over my head, throwing it to the floor in one swift motion. His mouth quickly draws me back in, nibbling my bottom lip.

Breaking away, I whisper, "As good as you taste, this isn't enough to satisfy me, Chef." Peering up at me through hooded eyes, he looks dazed but nods nonetheless.

My breath hitches as Carmy rears me onto my back, moving us so that his larger frame hovers over my smaller one. He unbuckles his belt clumsily and glides his jeans down his stocky thighs. I chew my lip as I gawk at the impressive bulge tucked into his black briefs. When he reaches for my bra clip, he freezes. "Shit," he exclaims airily, shoving a hand into his curly locks. I flinch, stammering, "W-what?"

"Condom," he states flatly.

"You ran out?" I joke, brows lifting.

"No, I don't do this often," he discloses, ears reddening. Silence eats up the space, and allows us to register what Carmy so bluntly, admitted. Not that I minded at all.

"I have had sex before—"

"I know," I squeal, guffawing at his prompt confession. "I think I have some in my purse." I soothe, encircling his bicep with my index finger. He lets out a sigh of relief, and I giggle like a schoolgirl when he springs to his feet, racing towards my bag.

Carmy's footsteps thud against the floorboards as he races away, half-naked. I fasten my lips together to prevent an extensive grin. When he reenters the room, I lift my body weight onto my forearms for support, cruising my eyes over his body, spying the condom between his dense fingers.

When he straddles my legs, meaning to resume where he left off, an impulse consumes my thoughts. Wordlessly, I place my palms on his thighs, spreading my digits atop his sturdy legs, to push him back. Then, kneeling on the floor in front of Carmy, I smile devilishly. I feel him trembling and the whole scene feels so erotic.

Looking up, I catch his gaze, as it adorns me, in a sort of awe. "There's something I have been craving, Chef," I murmur whilst running my tongue over my teeth. Carmy shudders as my fingers weave into his waistband, tugging them down.

While he's undressing, his briefs hanging on his chaves, I admire how his eyes flutter shut, and he mumbles nonsense to himself.

His cock engulfs my sight and brushes my cheek a bit. Carmy sucks in a sharp breath, tilting his head to watch me. Despite being taken aback by his size, I begin to stoke him. He gasps and his stomach constricts immediately.

Picking up my pace after a few pumps, I kiss his tip and his thighs shake. "Christ," he mewls. I take his noisy reaction as an encouragement to surge forward, wrapping my tongue and lips over him, and driving his cock to the back of my throat. "Fuck!" Carmy shouts.

As he gets closer to the edge, his words of appraisal jumble together in fits of, "yes, like that," "faster," and some "perfect" comments, among many other things I can't comprehend anymore. I'm lost in his touch, which tangles my hair, clasping it tightly. Before Carmy finishes, he cups my face and yanks himself out of my mouth.

Eyes shut and face twisted in both euphoria and frustration, he grumbles, "Fuck, I said I didn't wanna cum yet."

I simply smack my lips together, savouring his taste. Carmy appears stunned as holds my face. I smirk wickedly and a short puff of air abandons him.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks, and his jagged voice makes his question sound like an order, and I love it. "Please," I pant and he kisses my forehead before dragging me back on the sofa, underneath him again.

Positioning himself, Carmy rips open the condom with his teeth and rolls it over himself. He sucks in a coarse breath as he pushes into my entrance, and I do the same. He moans my name and I choke on a sob as he bottoms out, in one, mind-numbing jolt. His hands tighten on my hips, pressing me into the couch as I arch upwards. We both moan nonsensically, adoring the friction and how seamlessly we fit together.

Moving synchronously, we fight for our highs, grinding into a rhythm that makes us gasp in pleasure. With my name on his lips, they seize mine, and his tongue laps every corner of my mouth, as he slowly takes control. I writhe under him and he thrusts harder, hitting all the right places. Shortly, my body grows almost limp, unable to keep up with the tide of desire above, bucking into me.

As I reach my end, he keeps going, simultaneously kissing and nipping my neck, surely leaving numerous marks, but I don't care. He just feels too good, deep inside, strong and brutal.

I cry out as core contracts, clamping down on him, and making his untamed movements stutter. I cum hard, gasping as tremors rack through me. Soon after, Carmy whimpers, craning his neck back as cums inside. With a lengthy sigh that eases into a loud moan, he holds us still. He dips his sweat-covered forehead into the crook of my neck and hums in satisfaction.

After a few minutes of catching our breath, and enjoying the weight of his body over top of mine, he heaves himself up to kiss my mouth once more.

"Go out with me, please," he urges politely as if he isn't still inside of me. I laugh lightly, then tense in surprise when my core clenches over his cock, and he winces as well.

Exhaling steadily, I breathe, "I would love to."

[jawstan]

thinking about sitting on lip's nose, so walk with me.

his large palms spread your thighs as your pliant body falls back while his nose bumpin’ ur clit every time you grind against him and you can’t help but grip the headboard tight, moaning as he shamelessy slurps your cunt, his cock twitching while he’s collecting your arousal in his mouth. he loves making you feel good n gets so lost in the feeling of you using his face like a toy he forgets to breathe. when you pull off his face a bit it makes him whine, brows furrowed in confusion as his chest heaves, oxygen he didn't know he needed filling his lungs. after getting a bit of air in him, lip goes right back to it. grips the meat of your thighs harshly to pull you even closer to his face, spanks you harshly every now and then to make you jolt and grind against him, allowing his skilled tongue to reach even deeper inside your hole. he doesn’t stop til you squirt on his face and moans into your cunt when you make a mess of his face n draws orgasm after orgasm from you, not stopping even when you pull his hair and cry from overstimulation.

[adorethedistance]

Can’t Help Myself - Jeremy Allen White X Reader (18+)

Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, financial anxiety, fingering, rough sex, dominance, hair pulling, spanking

Words: 1732

Summary: When you freak out about the lavish Italian villa vacation, Jeremy makes you feel better in the best way he knows how.

A/n: so this is my first JAW piece but guys I have been in horny jail and writers block for MONTHS and then I literally had an idea and finished this in one sitting. Hope yall enjoy this fucking insane smut

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asks firmly with his eyebrows knit together in his infamous scowl. From the corner of my vision, I see his eyes flit up and down the expanse of my face, searching and scanning, hoping everything is okay. Half of me knows the tears in my eyes are from amazement; a sense of wonderful appreciation for the delicate squares of chocolate adorning the fluffed silk covered pillows, the mini bar stocked full of liquors I can’t pronounce of which each bottle likely costs more than every article of clothing enveloping my body combined, and the breathtaking view of the pink-orange dusk adorning the coast of our luxury Italian villa. The other half, however, screams in terror. Horrified of the expense of such a dream-like destination, the prospect of using the wrong fork at meal times and making a fool of myself, and the fact that I can’t remember the last time I had filled my gas tank more than halfway. Preoccupied with how my mind is racing between the wonders and horrors, I almost missed the way Jeremy reaches back to firmly rub a calloused hand on the back of his neck.

“You hate it.” I whip around to look him in the eyes again, not neglecting to notice the way tears began to pool on my lower lashes. I gasp a small breath and shake my head no.

“No,” I can barely speak above a whisper. “No, that’s not…” Despite my best efforts, my inane ability to come up with words does the opposite of convince Jeremy otherwise. A sad concern rests upon his features as he steps closer, coming to rest his hands on the sides of my hips.

“Hey,” he leans in to rest his forehead against mine, “Talk to me.”

I use the sensation of his warm hands against my body to ground me. A trembling breath in, and an even shakier breath out, I slowly find the words to speak.

“It’s amazing…” A slow blink from Jeremy. “I mean, really. It’s perfect.” As his head leans back to look at my whole face, his eyes search mine once more.

“What’s going on?”

“I just, I feel- not… good enough.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It wouldn’t be honest if I said this isn’t everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more… But I feel awful. I couldn’t even afford my passport if it weren’t for you and-“

“Stop. Y/n, stop.” I open my mouth to continue but Jeremy brings his right hand up to rest on my cheek, swiping his thumb along my bottom lip until his hand comes to rest holding my chin. His thumb stops its trail once it comes to rest perpendicular to my closed lips. A gesture that I’ve come to learn is more than just Jeremy’s body compensating for the fact that his brain can’t work fast enough to formulate the right words. It’s also a very gentle, and very domineering manner of urging me to just listen.

So I do.

“I want everything around you to be perfect because you are perfect.”

“But I don’t need expensive-“

“ I agree, you don’t need it… But I want you to have it. You are one of the most important girls-“

“One of?!” I pretend to be upset, which never fails to catch him off guard. It only takes a moment before he smiles and shakes his head, then rubs his eyes exasperatedly.

“Every time.” I laugh at his gullibility before pressing a consolation kiss against the tip of his nose.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself.”

“That, right there. That’s why I spend so much on you. I can’t help myself.”

My heart soars at the realization being new for us both. I bite back a smile and take Jeremy’s face in my hands to kiss him passionately. He meets me with just the same fervor and we dissolve into a happy puddle of exhilaration.

“You mean the world to me, Jere.”

“Ah, thanks.” He replies somewhat awkwardly. My jaw drops in surprise at the sudden switch up.

“Really? Thanks? That’s all you’ve got?” Jeremy shrugs, coming up empty on what else he could possibly say. I playfully shove his shoulders back to knock him off balance, to which he laughs as he falters, then catches my wrist in his large hand. The energy in the room sinks to my core as he tilts his head down to peer up at me through glimmering lashes.

“You want me to show you how much you mean to me?” My mouth falls closed as I meet his gaze with the same intensity. A request for permission. I nod slowly, almost imperceptibly which is all the license he needs.

Jeremy firmly grips my chin in his hand to pull my face to his and kiss me roughly, sloppily. His tongue greets mine between moments of harshly sucking on my bottom lip. Once in close proximity, he flips me around so my back is flush with his front. His prominent, raging hard on digs into where my thigh meets my ass, and before I can reach back to do anything he places a hand on the base of my neck to shove me face down on the bed.

I turn my head to the side with gasping breaths. Before I’ve even processed what he’s just done, I feel a gust of cool coastal air against my legs as Jeremy has flipped the hem of my dress up and over my lower half. He pauses for a moment, chuckling darkly to himself as he takes in the sight of me puffing for air, hair messy over my face, and the lacy thong that frames the curve of my ass just right. His favorite pair of panties I’d worn on purpose.

Without a moment to recover, Jeremy is tearing the underwear off my body, and tracing the tip of his tongue over the wet spot that had formed in the fabric against my heat. The sight is so lewd and delectable I whimper out of anticipation, which brings him back to the present from his moment of indulgence.

He then leans forward to bear his weight on one knee, the joint sinking into the mattress and sinisterly pressing right against my exposed pussy. I whine. As he leans down, Jeremy braces himself by sliding a hand up the nape of my neck, threading his grip into my hair, and pulling my head up off the bed so he can whisper directly in my ear.

“You’ll tell me if I’m being too rough?”

“Mhm,” I whine from utter desperation at the idea of what might come next.

“Good.”

Jeremy throws my head forward and uses his grip on my hair to press my face sideways into the mattress. With his other hand he trails down my spine to reach the curve of my ass, humming with satisfaction at the chills he sends down my body. His hands are rough to the touch and even rough in their action. Jeremy grips the flesh of my ass in his hand, squeezing and massaging, just to pull away and smack as hard as he can.

“AH!” I cry out much louder than intended, and scramble to cover my mouth with my hand. He laughs darkly and does it once more, the echo of the slap gracing the pristine stucco walls. He returns to massaging away the pain of the spankings and presses a kiss right behind my ear.

“Good girl.”

I’m drooling on the silk sheets, seeing stars, still reeling from the intensity of Jeremy’s passion. His massage turns gentle until he’s merely caressing the expanse of my exposed ass. I whimper and unintentionally buck against the bed, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeremy.

“What do you want?” He asks sternly, toying with me in a game of cat and mouse.

“You.”

“What about me?” His grip in my hair tightens and I whine once more.

“I want you to touch me!” I choke out, hoping for some semblance of relief for the insatiable burning between my legs. He moves his knee out of the way and reaches down to trace his middle fingertip in the slick of my heat. I moan softly for the anticipation but it’s not enough. And I know what he wants.

“Please touch me, please. I want your fingers inside of me. AH!”

No hesitation, Jeremy plunges two fingers inside my dripping hole. He uses the downward momentum to press up into my g-spot immediately and I’m a screaming crying mess as a result of it. I’m beyond stunned. Gone was the usually sappy, romantic Jeremy who’s delicate curls of each finger divinely coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of me. Instead, he’s being ruthless. Devouring every last drop of arousal I have left to give him and I’m intoxicated by the ride. He finger fucks me hard and faster, bracing a knee on my lower back to keep my hips in place. My lack of control being a quirk of my pleasure he’s grown quite fond of. Each pump is more ravenous than the last and I quickly climb to the peak.

“Oh fuck. Ohh FUCK, Jere, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Yeah? Come on, good girl.”

“Ahhh you’re gonna make me cum!”

“I know, baby. That’s it. Let it out.”

“Oh my god!”

I can’t resist the scream that ricochets through my lungs as my white-hot orgasm tears through my entire body. I finish hard, all over the crisp sheets and my boyfriend's eager hands. My body convulses as the euphoria takes hold, and though Jeremy doesn’t ease up on his movements, I can tell he is drinking in every moment of my pleasure.

My legs twitch with residual energy and I gasp to catch my breath. Jeremy hums softly, smiling down at my disheveled figure. He leans forward to press a sweet, gentle kiss on my sticky forehead; a stark contrast to the domineering partner he was just a moment before. He brushes the stray hair clumps off my forehead and collapses onto his side to be more eye level with me as I pant. Jeremy doesn’t fight the smug smile that comes to rest on his charming features. A Badge of Honor for him to be capable of making me feel so magnificently.

“You gotta admit that was pretty good.”

“Oh shut up!”

[daves-horse]

can you do one for kerry where he has his gf give him an agressive bj please

Communication

(Kerry Von Erich)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: face fucking, dirty talk if you squint, Kerry Von Erich bein' a lil' too fine, cock warming, oral both (receiving), i think thats all

“What’s your problem?” Kerry questions. I remain silent, my arms crossed over my chest. “I’m not gonna keep doin’ this with you all night.” My boyfriend’s voice getting louder with every word. “Babe, just talk to me, I can’t fix the problem if I don’t know what it is.” He walks over to me, spinning me around to face him. I look up at him, pouting.  “Is this because I ain’t been home all day?” I nod. “Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Kerry picks me up, And carries me up the stairs bridal style. “I know I work a lot, but you need to communicate these things with me.” He kisses my lips and places me on the bed.

My boyfriend lifts my legs to roll my panties down my thighs, then my ankles, he tosses them behind him, on the floor. Pushes up my nightgown, and runs his hands along the sides of my body, pausing to squeeze my hips. “Alright, let’s get you that attention you need.” I smile and try to sit up, but Kerry lightly pushes my shoulders back onto the mattress, climbing on top of me, kissing my lips, biting them as he pulls away. He kisses down through the valley of my breasts, all the way down to my, now, dripping cunt. I take a sharp inhale, taking my bottom lip between my teeth looking down at my boyfriend with anticipation. He begins to lightly suck on my clit, it’s not long before my irritation dissipates entirely. 

 I wrap my legs around his head, as I feel my orgasm nearing,  to pull him closer. “Kerry.” I breathe as he continues to work his tongue on me.

“Oh, so your mouth does work.” he teases, making my face hot. But instead of returning to my cunt, he stands up, making me whine. He proceeds to rid himself of his pants and underwear. He pulls me closer to the end of the bed by my ankles. He pins my arms above my head with one hand. “Why don’t we put it to work then.” He says, leading my head towards his cock. I wrap my lips around him without protest. I take my time working my way up and down his shaft, spending extra time on his tip. I hear Kerry grunt profanities under his breath. I make my way back down to the base of his cock. “Y’know darling, I think we could use a little more of that of yours.” he says, pushing my head until nose is pressing against his abdomen. I gag lightly, feeling his tip against the back of my throat. He pushes me just a little further and I begin to contract my throat in order to keep myself from gagging. “Fuck” I hear him mumble. I begin to bring my head back, but I’m cut off by him pressing my head harder to keep me in place. 

My throat continues to contract even more, almost in search of air. I look up at him in an effort to signal for him to let up, but his head is thrown back, and his eyes are squeezed shut in pleasure. I begin to attempt to wiggle my wrist out of his grip, to no avail. A big grunt escapes his lips, as he releases warm load down my throat. He loosens his grip on my head and I immediately fall back on the bed and struggle to catch my breath, coughing and panting aggressively. Kerry flops down next to me. “You alright, baby.” he chuckles. “Now that might be the best head I’ve ever received.” he compliments, he has the nerve to be out of breath.

“Goddammit, Kerry!” I shout as soon as I catch my breath. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” He laughs harder, damn near in tears. “ARE YA TRYIN TO KILL ME?” I hit his arm.  And immediately fall into a coughing fit.

“Jesus. You alright, baby?” He asks, rubbing my back, still laughing, as my lungs finally start to fully recover. I shoot him a glare as lean into him. “I’m sorry Hun, I guess I got a little carried away with punishing ya.” he holds my closer. 

“It’s alright, I had fun, even if you triggered my fight or flight for a second.” I reassure him. 

I feel his fingers slide into my heat. “I guess you really did enjoy yourself.” he laughs, making me blush. He removes his fingers from me.

He rolls on top of me, giving me kisses all over my face, and lining his cock up with my entrance. I wrap my arms around his neck as he pushes into me, giving me the most delightful stretch. He slides in and out of me at a moderate pace, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. “God, how are you still so tight?” I just moan in response. 

He picks up the pace, I can feel him twitching inside of me. I feel him cum for the second time, and I follow immediately after, my grip on his shoulders tightening, Kerry falls on top of me, and rolls us on our sides. “My throat hurts.” I laugh, my voice hoarse. 

“Let me go grab some honey for ya.” he begins to pull out. 

“No, I'll be fine, I wanna stay like this.” I plead wrapping my legs around his waist to keep him in place. 

“Okay, Baby, but you’re gettin’ a spoonful of honey first thing in the mornin.” Kerry laughs as I drift off to sleep.

Hey Y'all I'm super exciting to be posting my very first request, I have a Kevin one in the works, Please let me know what y'all think.

k thx byeeeeeee......

XOXO,

-Lavender

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Carmen Berzatto X F!Reader: Baby Fever Pt 1

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, penetration (p in v), fingering, dirty talk, cursing, family trauma (very generic), soft Carmy, baby fever, talks of pregnancy, kissing, no use of y/n, fluff, takes place in season 4 but no major spoilers.

Word count: 2.5 K

Part 2

Carmen didn’t think about being a dad. He never had before. His father hadn’t been present, and his mother was... well, the way that she was. His parents hadn’t exactly done a stellar job at parenting, so becoming one himself had never been part of the plan.

Actually, Carmen hadn’t really thought about much beyond the restaurant. Beyond being the best, pushing himself harder, being better than he already was. But lately, things had started to shift. He was trying. Trying to be present. Trying to be less… Carmen. And suddenly, his life didn’t just revolve around the kitchen, or cooking, or the constant gnawing anxiety that never really went away.

You had been the first step into that.

You and Carmen had gone through a rough patch but somehow, you figured it out. You weren’t labeled “girlfriend” because Carmy was terrible with labels, terrible with words in general, but you were something. Something real. Someone special.

So no, Carmen had never thought about becoming a dad. But then Sugar brought Sophie in, and everything changed. Everyone had been enthralled by the baby with her big eyes, little fists, soft gurgling noises. It was weird seeing that kind of peace in a place like this.

He hadn’t really looked at her. Not until he walked into the office to talk to Sugar and saw you there, holding Sophie. Your eyes were closed. Arms wrapped around the baby like you’d done it a thousand times. Your body bounced gently, swaying side to side. You were humming something under your breath. You were trying to get her to sleep, but she was still wide awake.

You didn’t notice him. Didn’t see him standing in the doorway, frozen.

Didn’t see the way his chest tightened or the way his thoughts scrambled trying to make sense of the feeling creeping up his spine. And then Sophie looked at him. Just looked. Big eyes, tiny grin. No reason for it. Just... a baby being a baby.

But something inside Carmen shifted.

He left before you could see him. Before you could ask what that look on his face meant. Because he didn’t know. Not really.

But during the whole service that night, while orders were flying and Richie was yelling and Sydney was trying not to lose it, his mind kept flashing back. To you. Holding that baby. Looking like you were meant to.

After service, he didn’t go straight home. Just stood outside the back door, apron still on, watching the city breathe around him. He lit a cigarette and didn’t even smoke it. He’d almost placed it to his mouth because the gum wasn’t managing to rid him of the desire, but then he’d remembered how happy you’d been when he told you he quit. He threw it on the ground and stomped it out.

Then he just stood, thinking. Replaying that moment in the office over and over.

It was late. You were probably sleeping peacefully in bed. He should go home. Should sleep so that he would be rested for tomorrow. He needed to bring his A-game.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He needed to see you. Needed to at least hold you in his arms. Needed to know if that feeling would still be there when you opened the door.

As soon as you opened the door, he felt bad. It was clear from your eyes that you’d been asleep. It was clear from your face that the knocks—yes, it had taken multiple ones—had startled you. Your body was tense as you peeked out the door, but then you saw his face, and you relaxed a bit.

“Carmy?” you whispered.

Your voice was all groggy, the way it often was when you woke up in the mornings. You’d been asleep for a while. Fuck, he should have called. Should have waited till tomorrow. Carmen and his fucking impatience.

You opened the door fully, revealing the beautiful sight of you dressed in one of his shirts. His heart seemed to do a somersault inside his chest. It was just another thing added to the pile of stuff he was already feeling. You grabbed his hand, softly tugging him inside.

“Everything okay?” you asked as you shut the door.

Carmen nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I just—sorry. I should’ve called.”

You simply smiled at him. You didn’t need to say it, Carmy knew what the smile meant. It was a silent way of telling him, “It’s alright.” You moved close to him, wrapping your arms around his body. Carmen returned the gesture instantly. He didn’t even need to think about it. The second your body came in contact with his, he was melting into you, body molding against yours like two pieces of a puzzle.

You let out a soft sigh as he placed a kiss on your hair.

“You come for a sleepover?”

Carmen smiled.

“Would that be okay?”

You lifted your head off his chest so you could look at him, eyes slightly closed, a sleepy smile on your face.

“Of course, Carm.”

Carmen slept that night, but he did not rest. His mind was an endless collection of dreams with the predominant theme of babies. Some of them had you in them, your belly big with an unborn child. Some were just sounds of babies—giggles, babbles, crying. And some were just flashes. Flashes of possibilities.

Carmen’s body woke up at six, muscles rigid as he bolted upright. He was ready to go to work, ready to head into the restaurant and face the rush of movement. But then he looked at your clock and realized—it was Sunday. There was no service.

In any other circumstance, the realization would have made his stomach churn. Today, however, a wave of relief seemed to wash over him.

You shifted beside him, eyes blinking slowly as you woke. Carmen was still sitting up in bed, staring at the wall, trying to allow his body to relax before lying back down again. He hadn’t realized you were awake until you placed a soft hand on his back. His head snapped around to look at you.

You were still lying down, face pressed into the pillow, eyes on him.

“Nightmare?”

You’d become used to his bad dreams—you’d been over at his place more than once when it had happened.

“No, actually.”

Carmen lay back down, turning onto his side to face you. You reached up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, letting out a small yawn. Carmen took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You smiled, eyes still slightly closed.

He placed another kiss on your palm. Then your wrist. Then your arm.

He kept going, slow and steady, kissing along your skin until he reached your shoulder. Then, he moved to your neck.

Your breath hitched at the feeling, a soft whine slipping out.

There it was. Just what Carmen wanted. He knew all your sweet spots, knew how to get you riled up. And when you tilted your head to give him more access, Carmen knew you wanted this just as much as he did.

So he kept going.

Somewhere between kisses and soft whines, you’d both ended up completely naked. Now, you found yourself in a delicious position. Your body pressed against Carmen’s, both of you covered only by the sheets, his hand working you open.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned. Carmen’s fingers didn’t stop, moving in languid, practiced strokes as he worked to push you toward your high. You were getting close. Then he added a third finger, and his thumb moved to circle your clit, and you were gone.

You came with a shout of his name, your body lifting off the bed as the orgasm crashed through you.

Carmen watched you fall apart with something close to awe, his breath catching in his throat as you clenched around his fingers, body arching into the pleasure. He kept moving gently through your high, drawing it out, helping you ride the waves until your body finally sagged back against the mattress.

You blinked up at him, still catching your breath, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. Your hand reached for him under the sheets, fingers wrapping around his dick. He groaned at the contact, hips twitching forward into your grip.

“Shit,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours.

You opened your legs wider, silently telling Carmen you were ready for him. He hissed as the head of his dick nudged against your folds, your wetness coating him.

“You’re so ready for me,” he said, more to himself than to you, like it knocked the wind out of him.

You hummed, voice low and breathy. “Always ready for you, Carmy. Need you so bad.”

“Yeah, baby? Want me inside?”

You nodded, eyes closed, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Open your eyes, baby. Want you to look at me.”

You did as he asked, forcing your eyes to stay on his as he slid inside. Your brows furrowed the moment he bottomed out, the stretch overwhelming in the best way. Carmen wasn’t faring much better. A soft growl escaped him as your walls wrapped tightly around him. He shifted gently, allowing himself to settle fully inside you.

You gasped, nails digging into his back, your body trembling from how full you felt.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted. “You feel so good. So perfect.”

You moaned in response, your legs wrapping around his hips, a silent plea for him to move.

So he did.

He started slow. Deep strokes that had you gasping into his mouth. Every thrust felt deliberate, like he was trying to tell you something with each one. How much he needed you. How much he loved you. Even if he still couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You clung to him, moaning softly with every thrust, and Carmen buried his face in your neck, losing himself in the feeling of you. Then his mind flashed back to you holding Sophie, and something snapped. His grip on you shifted, not rough but not as soft as usual, more charged, more possessive.

“You feel—fuck—you feel like you were made for me,” he muttered, lips brushing your neck. “Like your body just knows me.”

You moaned in response, back arching to bring him even deeper. His thrusts picked up, just a little sharper now, more deliberate. He kissed your shoulder, your collarbone, your cheek, then locked eyes with you as he whispered:

“You ever think about it?” he asked, breath ragged. “Me getting you pregnant?”

You let out a soft gasp because he’d just hit the right spot and also because his question surprised you. Not in a bad way, just an unexpected one. You clenched around him. Carmen groaned at your reaction, his forehead falling to yours, his pace faltering for just a second.

“Yeah, you do. I can feel it,” he breathed. “You like the idea of me filling you up, don’t you? Fucking my baby into you.”

You whimpered, affected by his words and how fucking good his voice sounded. And how he looked? Oh, it was fucking glorious. The sight itself almost made you come. He placed a hand on the headboard not to ground himself but to fuck you harder. Deeper.

“Want it so bad,” he whispered. “Want to see you round and full. Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

You couldn’t form words anymore just nodded, eyes fluttering shut, a strangled moan escaping you as your second orgasm began to build fast and hard in your belly. Carmen felt it. Felt the way you clenched around him tighter, the way your hips began to rock up into his on their own.

“Gonna come again, baby? Fuck, come on. Do it. Let me feel you.”

And when you did when you cried out his name and came around him again, trembling and raw it was enough to drag him over the edge with you.

“Gonna come inside you,” he groaned, voice wrecked. “Gonna fill you up so good. Get you pregnant, fuck, take all of it, baby.”

With a final deep thrust, Carmen came with a broken moan, burying himself inside you, hips grinding down as he emptied himself. He held you tight, shaking slightly with the force of it, his breath shuddering against your shoulder.

Neither of you moved for a while. A million questions raced through your head. When you finally managed to slow your heart and catch your breath you leaned up on one hand, making Carmen look at you.

“Something happened.”

It wasn’t a question.

Carmen blew out a breath through his nose. Ran a hand through his hair.

“I saw you. Earlier. With Sophie.”

You blinked, surprised.

“In the office?”

He nodded.

“I didn’t even know you were there.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t mean to watch or anything. I just… I couldn’t move.”

Another pause. You let it hang.

“She looked at me,” he went on, voice barely above a whisper. “The baby. And you—you were just standing there, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I—I felt something. I don’t know what the fuck it was, but it was real. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh. It made sense now. The late-night arrival. The shifting in bed the whole night long. The immediate desire as soon as you woke up.

“What did it feel like?” you asked eventually.

He looked at you. Really looked at you.

“Like I wanted it. That—whatever that was. Like maybe I could—” He stopped himself, shook his head.

“Fuck. I don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart warming at the realization of Carmy having baby fever. And of him thinking about having that. With you. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes. He shifted his head so that his lips were on your palm. He placed a soft kiss there before opening his eyes again.

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” you said.

You lay back down, settling your head on his chest, your hands making small circles on his skin.

“Is it something you’d want?”

You let out a soft sigh.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Carmen stayed quiet for a moment.

“With me?” he whispered.

You placed a kiss on his chest before moving to look him in the eyes.

“Of course, Carmy. If you want it too.”

You felt his body relax beneath you.

“I think I do. I just—”

“Hey,” you cut him off. “You don’t have to have it all figured out,” you said. “But if you felt something… that’s not nothing.”

He nodded, biting his lip nervously.

“We’ll just take it a day at a time, Carm. That’s all we have to do.”

“A day at a time.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay. I think I can do that.”

You both settled into a comfortable silence, the kind that does not feel empty but full—full of unspoken thoughts, hopes, and fears shared between two people learning to lean on each other.

[madhattervanessa]

Freezer

Description: If you get locked in the walk-in freezer with your hot boss, you need to warm up somehow.

Content: carmy x reader (no use of y/n), injury(cut finger) and mention of blood, sort of enemies to lovers, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, use of pet names

Author’s Note: I need him IN MY BONES. i wrote this before watching the ep when this happens LOL. also i love feedback if you want to leave it! <3

——————————————————

It started as a normal day of work-as in Carmy was yelling, Richie was an asshole, and Sydney was solving everything.

It ended up being an intense day for an unofficial kitchen assistant. There was a large rush of customers at lunch, leaving Carmy’s veins to protrude as he yelled at everyone to make more food. 

“50 more beef, 20 veggie, 16 everything chefs!”

“Heard, chef!” The kitchen chorused back. 

He called your name.

“Yes, chef?” 

“I need the two slabs of beef left in the fridge, and then you need to go drive and get more.”

“Heard, chef,” you say, writing the instructions down quickly on your notepad.

Carmy was already gone, at his station picking up the pound of beef. You stared as his bicep curved out, his hand flexed and gripped the bag. You were interrupted by-

“Chef! I need those tomatoes!” Sydney said. “They have to be in the pot in 5!”

Fuck-the tomatoes you were chopping for Sydney’s sauce before this meeting started. 

“Yes chef!” 

“And we’re talking about whatever that was later!” she said. You tense as you realize she saw you gawking.

“Syyyyd!” You whine. She grins.

“Get to work!” Carmy hollers from around a corner, and you dash back to the sink.

You had finished half of the ten tomatoes sydney requested. You picked up the knife and got to work on the 6th of the bunch.

You were mindlessly chopping for maybe a minute before someone slammed into your back, knocking you forward and causing you to slice your finger.

“Fuck!” you gasped. You whirled around to see who it was. “Say behind!”

Of course. Richie. He looked down at you  and his lip curled. 

“Not my fault! Pay more attention next time.”

He stalked off, rolling his eyes. 

Whatever, you didn’t have time for this. Luckily no blood got on the tomatoes, so you wrapped the cut in paper towel and got back to work careful to keep that finger away from the food. You slid the cut up food into a bowl and carried it to Sydney, placing it next to her.

“Thanks, chef,” she said, checking the tomatoes.

“Of course, chef.”

“Whoa, you good?” she said, noticing your finger. 

“Yeah, I’ll fix it after I finish,” you said.

“Okay..” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Be careful.”

“I will, chef!” You say, already heading to the freezer. “Corner!”

You reached the freezer and pulled open the door to slip inside, looking for the beef Carmy had asked for.

“Ah!” You jumped, shoulder blade hitting the metal shelf. Carmy startled from the racks he was leaning on. 

“What the fuck?” He leaned on the door to steady himself; pushing it closed. 

“Fuck-sorry chef,” You said quickly. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he groaned, tipping his head back against the shelf. You could feel the shame burning up your chest and sternum. 

“Just get your stuff and go, okay?” 

You nodded and leaned over, right hand on the metal coils as you looked for the beef on the bottom shelf.

“It’s right there,” he said angrily, gesturing to the slab. Great day so far. You cut yourself and now your workplace crush was yelling at you. Like you could focus when he was right there. You could feel his body heat.

You gripped the plastic and lifted the meat into the crook of your left arm. Hefting it up, you turned and reached for the door handle, avoiding eye contact with Carmy. 

You pulled the handle. Nothing happened. What?

You tried again. Still nothing more than a slight jiggle, and the door didn’t budge. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“Let me try,” he said, moving into your space. His wide shoulders brushed against you, reminding you of all that manliness and what you wanted it to do to you.

You stepped back, the weight of the beef (and your attraction to Carmy) already starting to burn. You switched arms as he yanked hard on the handle, bicep and shoulder muscles flexing. He added his other hand and pulled down and back. Nothing.

This could not be happening. You can’t be stuck in here with Carmy. He’ll eat you alive, and not in the way you wanted. You couldn’t stand the thought of the cause of that twist in your gut hating you.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the door. “Richie! Syd!”

You both knew the door was metal, several inches thick. They’d have to be close to hear him. 

You gasped and set the beef back so you could curl your arms around yourself. Carmy whirled around.

“You fucking locked us in here!” he said, pointing at you.

“Me?!” You yelled back. “It’s not my fault the door jammed!”

“Yes it is!” he fired back. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t come in here!”

“I was getting the fucking beef you asked me for!” You screamed back.

He was about to respond when you heard muffled voices outside. 

“Syd!” You called out.

“Cousin!” He yelled at the same time.

“What’re you guys doing in there?” you hear Sydney say through the door. 

“The fucking door won’t open!” Carmy exclaimed. “Get us out!”

The handle shook, then shook more violently.

“I think it’s jammed!” came Richie’s yell.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble.

Carmy looks at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back. “So can you fix it?”

“Um, not sure,” came his cousin’s reply. “I think we need to get Fak…”

“Fuck!” Carmy exclaimed louder, pushing his tattooed hands through his hair. “It’s lunch rush! I cant be stuck in here!”

“I’d also like to be outside!” You add.

“It’s okay chef,” Sydney’s voice responds. “I’ll keep us on task while Richie works to get you out. We won’t fall behind.”

“I got this, cousin!” Richie says.

Carmy sighs and leans his head against the freezer door, resting his hands on it.

“Good, chef. You’ll have a limited menu since our meat is in here.”

“On it Chef. We were due for a shipment anyway.”

“Thank you chef. An-“

Sydney cuts him off saying your name. “Just breathe, okay? We’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

“Thank you Syd,” you reply, feeling grateful for her ability to take charge.

“Oh! And I’ll slip a bandage under the door!”

“Ahhh thank you,” You respond with relief, looking down at the paper towel that was almost completely red.

That caught Carmy’s attention. His head whipped around to look at you as her footsteps pattered away.

“You good?”

You looked at him in surprise. “Yeah…just cut my finger.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You have to be careful. We can’t be losing manpower.”

You glared. “Richie slammed into me. My carefulness didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Here you go,” Syd said as she slid the bandaid under the door. “Fak will be here in an hour or so.”

“What?” you exclaim at the same time.

“Apparently he likes to go to a specific movie theater an hour away. I don’t fucking know.” 

You groan along with Carmy.

You slid down to sit on the cement floor and set about trying to open the bandage, but hissed when it slid across your cut. 

Carmy sighed. “Let me help you with that.”

“I got it, thanks. Isn’t it because I wasn’t careful enough, anyway?” You say.

“You can’t blame me for trying to keep the restaurant running.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.”

“Just let me do it.”

Carmy lowered himself to the floor, leaning back on his haunches. The image of this larger-than-life man on his knees for you made you slow, handing over the bandage.

He took it and began to unwrap. 

“I know you’re careful,” he says into his hands.

“Huh?” you ask in surprise.

He looks up at you, those beautiful blue eyes upping your heart rate. “I know you’re careful. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Oh fuck. New reason why you couldn’t stay in here. You were gonna fall in love with him.

The praise makes you smile, and his face seems to lighten at that. “Thanks,” you say. “I assume it helps my case that Richie has a reputation for being not careful.”

He huffs a smile. “Maybe a bit.” He reaches his hand out gently. Seeing the veins and tattoos on the backs of his hands were not helping your heartbeat. Your nerves shake as he takes your hand and undoes the paper towel with the other. 

His face hardens and you look to see why. The gash was deeper than you realized, but nothing new to kitchen staff.

“Fuckin’ Richie,” Carmy grumbles angrily.

“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

He makes eye contact again. “You shouldn’t have to. Not in my kitchen.”

Your lips part in surprise, and you think you catch him looking at them a beat too long before returning to your hand. The fact that such talented, skilled hands were working on your little cut was wild to you. 

A curl fell in his face, and you had to resist the urge to push it back for him. He was finishing up the bandage, and your mind screamed keep him over here.

“How are we gonna keep from freezing to death in here?” You ask, half joking. 

He moves back to lean against the shelves on the opposite wall, legs crossed at the ankle. You immediately feel the absence of his hands on you. 

He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“All that means is you won’t notice when the hypothermia kicks in.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “That cannot be true.”

“Yeah, I have no idea.” You respond, stretching your legs out so they’re parallel to his.

He chuckles, louder than you thought he would. 

“How is the job so far?” He asks.

“Good,” you say. “Better than a lot of kitchens. Except when I have to sit in a freezer with my boss.” You nudge his knee with yours. 

“C’mon, is he really that bad?” Carmy teases.

You think for a minute. “No, honestly. He’s pretty fantastic at everything he does. In appearance, too. I don’t know how he keeps those white shirts so clean.”

“I meant to be in a freezer with,” Carmy responds. There’s a shameful beat.

“I-“

“I’m just messing with you,” He smirks.

You roll your eyes, still embarrassed for your lovey rant.

“I look fantastic, huh?” 

You squirm. “I didn’t mean it like that-“

“How did you mean it then? Don’t hurt my feelings.”

“Can they be hurt?” You ponder. “I’m sure many women have told you similarly.”

He shakes his head. “That’s probably the only personal compliment I’ve gotten in years. They’ve all been about my cooking.” His face is a bit pink now.

You rub your arms, the goosebumps a combination of the freezer and Carmy’s gaze on you. Speaking of, his eyes follow the movement of your arms and his jaw ticks.

“That’s almost unbelievable to me,” You begin. “That no one tells you you look good.”

“Do people tell you that?” He asks.

“Sometimes, I suppose,” You say. “When I look nicer than this.” You gesture down at yourself.

“You still look nice,” He says gravelly, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to tear your eyes away from his forearms to respond. 

“Thanks, so do you,” You say lightly, hoping it’s not obvious how much you mean it.

You can tell from his eyes he sees through you, though. 

“I know you think so,” He says lowly.

“Oh yeah?” You ask nervously.

“Yeah,” he almost groans. “The way you look at me when I cook-it’s so distracting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper. 

“Yes you do,” he says, eyes hard. “But you’re so focused, and careful, that you never see when I’m looking the same way at you.”

You swallow hard. There was no way this was real. Carmy being into you? Impossible.

“Yeah, right,” You respond.

His jaw ticks. “What, you don’t think that’s true?”

“Carmy, look at you. Then look at me. Of course I don’t think that’s true.” You shake.

He pushes his hands through his curls again. His shirt rises up an inch when he does, and you can’t help but glance at the bit of happy trail-

“See,” He groans. “I cant think straight around you. Especially when you look at me like that. Like I’m worth your attention.”

“Of course you are, Chef,” you say, looking into his eyes as your voice went lower. 

The name seemed to do him in. His frazzled look shifted to feral, eyes bright and hair in every direction. 

“You never answered my question,” You said lowly.

“What question?”

“How are we gonna stay warm in here?” You say, tone suggesting there was more to what you were saying. “Because I can think of a few ideas…”

“Oh, so can I,” He said gravelly, dragging his eyes down your body as you rose up on your knees. “All of them require you getting over here.” he said.

Didn’t have to tell you twice. He uncrossed his legs, his perfect thighs framing a seat for you. Before you could sit, his large hands crept onto your back, grasping you as he put his face onto your belly.

“Is this okay?” He asked, tone serious.

“Yes, yes,” you almost whine, hands reaching the back of his head. 

When you run your fingers through your hair like you’d been dreaming about, he groans.

This giant, muscled man groans into your stomach. You feel like jelly. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

You had heard about his nonexistent dating history. But you didn’t care. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” You say, looking down at him.

“No,” he groans, looking up at you, the angle of his eyes and his hands gripping you making you even wetter. “I want.”

You gasp and that reaction seems to spur him on. He slides his hands down your thighs and pulls you into his lap.

You groan quietly as you feel his cock through his pants, already hardening just from you being close. You couldn’t believe it. 

“You feel that? What you do to me?” He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You think it’s true now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you gasp. “Wanna feel what you do to me?”

He groans in your ear. “Oh, we’ll get there.”

Then, he kisses you. And not a polite one. He kisses you like you’re a new recipe he made: new and delicious and ready to be devoured whole.

You moan and his grip on your shirt tightens like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. You tug on his hair and your hips involuntarily buck against him. 

He pulls back and moves his mouth to your neck. “Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“I could-“ His teeth scrape your neck. “I could say the same thing about you.”

His hands grasp your face and kiss you again, holding you and taking you. 

You reach your hands for the hem of his shirt, needing something to ground you with the heat running through your body. As soon as you reach your hands underneath his shirt and scrape your nails up, he seems to go haywire.

His hands grip anywhere they can reach, your back, your hips, your shoulders, your hair. Not quite where you want him.

You pull back and he looks worried. But that look dissipates when you reach for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head.

“Oh…pretty girl…” he mumbles, hands sliding up from your hips and across your stomach. 

You smile and reach your arms to the back of your bra.

“You want this off too?” You ask.

“Yes, oh god, please-“

Your thighs try to squeeze together from his desperation, but his hips are in the way and he notices. 

“You like that baby? You like when I beg?” 

You whimper. Oh god. And he heard it.

“I can do that, pretty girl, I can beg,” He says, his blue eyes in yours.

“Fuck, Carmy-“ You groan.

His hands move up, sliding seductively up your skin. “Can I take it off baby? Want it to be me that gets to undress you.”

“Yeah, you can,” You nod, unable to form sentences. He was gonna kill you.

He undoes the clasp on the first try, and his eyes get wider as the bra falls away. Your nipples turn into points from the cold freezer.

“Ohhh pretty girl, look at these,” he says in fascination, running his thumbs over your peaks.

The rough skin against you makes you moan, head falling back as he grasps your tits in his hands.

“So, so pretty,” he says, and then he scrapes his teeth against them. You gasp, as he continues to suck and bite at your breasts. “Wanna hold ‘em every day-“

“Fuck-so glad you like them Carmy,” you groan. “Please, please can you take this off?”

You grasp at his shirt. “Of course, baby,” he says, hair even crazier than normal from your tugging. He helps you lift it up and over his head.

“Oh, god,” you say, eyes widening as you finally see him in his full glory. Seeing his defined biceps next to his pecs and happy trail might knock you out cold. “Oh Carmy you are fantastic.”

That makes him laugh, and you grab his neck to kiss him again, and he moans into your mouth. Your other hand runs down his chest, dragging along the waistband. His hands grasped your boobs, and it felt better than you thought it would.

His desperation and muscle was making you soaked. You needed him to touch you. 

“Carm-“ You squirm in his lap, looking for friction. 

“I know, baby, I got you,” he says. “C’mere.” 

He holds you into him with one arm, and you bite at his shoulder as he looks for the shirts on the hard ground, making a makeshift pillow for you. 

He lays you back, and you watch him as he slowly kisses and nicks his way down your body, getting more teethy and possessive as he gets lower.

He reaches the waistband of your pants, and looks up at you for assurance. You look at the door nervously, and he catches it.

“I’m not gonna let anyone see you,” He says. “This is for me,” he grabs your ass. “Understand?”

You nod desperately and wiggle your hips.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Heard, chef,” you tease, and he tsks at you, smirking.

He pulls your pants down and over your ankles, adjusting himself to breathe over your thighs.

You inhale sharply as the cold hits your legs, goosebumps forming. Carmy’s hands soothe you, running up your thighs slowly.

He rubs his thumb over the wet spot on your underwear and looks up at you. “All this for me?”

“Told you you’d feel what you do to me.” you say.

“Ugh, pretty girl, you’re gonna kill me.” he groans into your thigh, biting down and you whimper. 

“Please, Carm, don’t tease-“

He pulls your underwear down in one swift motion, looking at you for reassurance before pulling your thighs over his shoulders and diving into his meal.

You can’t help your load moan as he licks a stripe all the way up your folds, circling your clit when he gets there. 

Your hands twist into his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands clamp harder into your thighs as your taste spurs him on.

“Fuck,” His nose- that perfect nose- rubs your clit over and over and you almost squeal just from the visual: his tattooed hands on your thighs, his curls in your fingers, his blue eyes looking straight into yours.

He pushes his tongue into you and your hips buck as you moan when he curls it up. The absence of it inside you makes you whimper, until his middle finger enters you and you really do squeal.

“Carmy- ah-“

“Yeah, baby, lemme hear you.”

He curls his finger and hits that spongey spot inside you, making your hips buck again. His eyes look scoldingly at you before he removes his right hand and presses down on your lower stomach. 

“Shit-!” Your head lolls back. “That’s a nice trick, Chef-“ You can feel him smirk.

The pressure makes the finger pumping inside you pleasing in a whole new way. Still sucking on your clit, Carmy curls another finger inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-“

“I got you, c’mon, come for me, wanna see you come all over my fingers,” Carmy says desperately, and you listen, snapping loose and releasing all over him. 

Your boss made you cum. Hard. Did you need to call HR? 

Nope. All you needed was to see him rising back over you, kissing up your stomach and over your breasts. 

His mouth was covered in your wet, and you grabbed his jaw hard to kiss him, your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself on him.

“Fantastic?” He asks.

“Fantastic.” you respond, meaning it. “Let’s hope Fak gets stuck in traffic,” you whisper into his lips. 

“Why?” he responds, teasing. You slide your hand down his chest and over his ass.

“Because I want you inside me,” you say. He moans and kisses you again, hard, whilst reaching for the fly on his jeans. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” he smiles into your lips. “Hands, chef, hands.”

You giggle and go to help him pull his pants down his legs and over his feet, kissing his jaw. You run your fingers over the happy trail you had been ogling, and grasp his cock over his boxers. He grunts in your ear, and takes your hand away. 

“Gonna come too fast,” he says, holding your hand above your head and kissing you.  “You make me crazy.”

“Same here, Carm.” You say, nipping at his neck. Your other hand teases at the waistline of his boxers.

He looks into your eyes. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, Carmy, fuck, please.”

“Good.” He says, tugging his boxers down and you finally get to see him in all his glory. God, you didn’t think he could get more beautiful. Seeing him entirely naked sent another wave of wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you mumble. He slid his hands up the outside of your thighs, keeping his eyes locked on yours. 

“All for you, baby,” his hand goes to his cock, and as the head slides inside you your head lolls back and groan.

“Hey, look at me.” You look back up to stare into his icy eyes. “Don’t stop.” He says.

He slides further into you and your jaw hangs open, trying so hard to keep eye contact with him.

You both groan as he bottoms out, every vein and ridge of him inside of you. Your pussy is still sensitive from the previous mind-blowing orgasm, and-

“God, pretty girl, you feel so good,” he groans in your ear. “Taking me so well.”

You pulse at the praise, and he feels it. You feel his smirk on your jaw. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, your nails find purchase on his back.

He rolls into you, and it has your thighs squeezing around his hips immediately. 

“Shit, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, Carmy, feels so good,” you moan as he starts his rhythm, every ridge of his cock dragging inside your walls. The cold of the freezer vanishing against the hotness of your bodies.

His forearm is on the floor next your head, his other hand grasping your ass as he pummels into you. 

Your back scrapes on the floor, to match the marks you’re making on Carmy’s back. 

“Look so good with me inside you,” he grunts and you choke. His hand on your ass moves between your thighs and he circles your clit.

“Fuck- too much,” you gasp, clit sensitive. 

“You can take it.”

“Ah- Car- I’m gonna-“

“Me too, pretty girl, cmon-“ The nickname gets you every time, and you gush over him, squeezing around his cock.

He makes a choked sound and falls over the ledge after you, collapsing on top of your chest. 

You both breathe heavily, you rubbing up and down his back.

“That might have been more fantastic than your cooking,” You smile to the ceiling. He chuckles into your neck.

“Heard, chef.”

You were both dressed by the time Fak finally arrived, half an hour late complaining about unmissable after-credit scenes. 

Parting, you had gained a cell phone number and an address from Carmy, a kiss goodbye, and a “see you later” that promised many more. 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

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

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

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

Age Rating - 18+

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

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

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

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

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

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

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

"You wouldn't even believe."

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

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

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll hold you to that."

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

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

"And then?"

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

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

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

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

"Of course I do."

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

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

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Doin' so good for me."

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

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know you didn't mean it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come on, trouble."

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

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

[ssweetleaf]

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

umm so hear me out…

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

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

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

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

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

[laiiaaa]

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

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

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

You know what he wants.

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

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

A good idea, maybe even a great one…

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

You hesitate. Yes. “Just…”

He smiles.

“Just don’t be late for—mmph—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, f-ffuckkk—”

When he hits that spot with deft fingers. 

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

That feel good, baby?

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

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

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

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

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

He pouts. “We have time—”

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

“Y-Yeah, I know, but c’mon—”

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

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

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

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

Want me to bring you somethin’ home?

You’re so gorgeous, baby.

Gonna miss you…wanna stop by later? 

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

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

[jawstan]

we always talk about how carmy or lip eats pussy so fucking well and yes I agree, but let's thinking about jeremy and fuck i know he's devour it.

this man would be that man to own the 'eat pussy, it's vegan' shirt. he's so enthusiastic about it. i just know with my whole heart and soul he eats you like he's been starved for months. he's devouring you, for sure, and is deffo sloppy with it. this man isn't afraid to get messy during normal sex, so ofc he's going to practically drown himself in your arousal. theres so much spit it's soaking down to leave a rather large wet spot on the sheets. wants you to cum on his tongue and only his tongue, and god damn is he good with it. he's the type to playfully nip at your clit while you try to squirm away from him. says something along the lines of "don't run from me, m' just tryin' t'make ya feel good, sweetheart." and knowing that you're a whore for his nose, he would rubbing it so slowly in ur clit making you drip and cletch while uses that brute strength of his (god bless) to keep your thighs pinned and held over his shoulders until he's satisfied. does not accept his meal as finished until you're squirting and your voice has gone gravely from crying out his name.