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#carmy alcoholic
unladyboss · 8 months
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OUT THERE TALKING TO WHOEVER! - SYD'S POV
I was reading @mod-doodles post about Syd reciprocating feelings for Carmy and I agree with all she said
It's been a push-pull all season 2 with Carmy.
He'll do something really cool or sweet or nice, then something horrid like blowing Syd off. They have that big table scene and then he goes to check on Claire mid service. I know if I was Syd, I'd feel that he likes that I can work for him and make a good restaurant. Not anything else.
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If I was Syd, I'd feel like he wants me to be around for work and get ideas, but he'll put his feelings and everything else into Claire. I'd also think that all the times he did nice things, was to keep me around for the sake of the restaurant.
Mid service
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Goes to see Claire
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Even when Syd questions the timing
Remember Syd doesn't see how he is with Claire, just that he brought her around, seems excited about her, and under the table he said she's so great that it scares the sh-t out of him.
Now if some guy I liked told me that about some girl HE liked, I'd be turned off and kinda over my crush on him.
That part probably affected Syd as well and made her come back to earth. Back to some realizations
So when Carmy goes to check on Claire and then comes back only to berate her for cold disgusting 7 fishes,
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Sydney let him know EXACTLY what she was upset about.
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Sydney's hurt jumped out.
Who remembers whenever your mom got mad at you for being out playing with your 'lil friends' or WHOEVER!
Acting like she doesn't know the names of who you were out with. BUT SHE KNOWS
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That's when she's super ticked off!
So Sydney was upset and most likely hurt as hell. Therefore, when Carmy gets locked in the walk in fridge and is calling for Syd, telling them to get Syd, I don't know that Sydney has any motivation to go get Carmy or comfort him, except for in the first minute when she asks if he is ok and he says no.
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Besides the fact that they still have to get through service, I'd have been thinking " get your girlfriend to come get you out, since y'all worked on the menu together"
Syd though, is still kind in her thinking towards him, because when Nat says I told him to call Tim/Tony, Syd tells her ' not now' probably meaning let's not bash Carmy any more for this.
It's not lost on me that Carmy probably went into the fridge to hide knowing full well he might get stuck in there. Syd had just agreed to refire the fish, he was upset over thinking he saw his old horrible boss, and upset over yelling at Syd after she reminded him he was out talking to Claire during service.
He didn't need anything in the fridge. They have people to go get it if they need. He should have been doing a dish.
So here's what. We're seeing what Carmy is going through and what Syd is going through. Neither of them let slip that they feel more for each other than the restaurant. But Syd, who seems to be even more guarded, as she should be given Carmy's behavior, has to keep the walls up. Carmy disappointed her again.
Guess who we see Syd rely on a lot while Carmy is locked in the fridge?
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CONNOR
I heard her call his name three times and saw him in several shots after that looking at or listening to Syd
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Season 3 might see Syd with walls all the way up even with Claire gone. Connor might provide romantic fun for her, even with those walls still up.
But Carmy has a lot of work to do.
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chefkids · 8 months
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starsnheroes · 10 months
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All I am saying is that Carmy and Syd from the Bear are Clint and Kate.
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Pity Party.
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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.
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"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.
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atrwriting · 9 months
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more, more, more — carmy x reader
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carmen berzatto x coworker!reader
listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.
i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.
as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed
also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off
barely edited we die like men
i stole that joke don’t come for me
anyway....
you didn’t really know how it happened.
you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.
natalie berzatto.
her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.
unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.
carmen.
fucking carmen.
while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.
however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.
when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.
the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.
carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.
you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?
carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home
so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.
you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.
so you knocked.
and barely waited.
carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.
“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.
he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”
“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”
he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”
you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”
“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”
you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”
one drink definitely did not hurt.
drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.
how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.
“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”
“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”
you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”
“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”
“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”
“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”
you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”
“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”
“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.
he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.
you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.
“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”
“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”
“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”
“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”
he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”
“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”
there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.
you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.
you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.
however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.
and he did nothing.
so you could do nothing.
you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.
you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.
like they had with the glass, moments ago.
you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.
when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.
you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”
“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”
you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.
“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”
his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”
you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.
carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.
“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”
“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”
you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.
“fuck.”
with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.
the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.
“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.
you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.
“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”
“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”
you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.
it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.
what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.
in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.
he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.
and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.
he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.
“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.
he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.
“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”
he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.
“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”
“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”
“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.
“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.
his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.
“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.
“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”
he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”
heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.
“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.
carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.
“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”
carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.
“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”
“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”
“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“
“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”
“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”
“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”
that broke you.
that fucking broke you.
it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.
with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”
it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.
“pretty girl.”
“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”
“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”
once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.
“greedy.”
you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”
he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”
you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.
carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.
“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”
he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”
you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.
but when he spoke, you froze.
“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”
you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.
“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.
you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.
“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”
“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?
you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.
“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.
“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”
both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.
the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.
carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.
“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”
“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”
“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.
“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.
your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.
“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”
“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”
“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”
fuck.
that set him off.
carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?
fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.
carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.
it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.
“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.
there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.
the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.
“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.
the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.
“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.
you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.
“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”
“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.
you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.
“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”
he pressed his thumb against your clit.
you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.
“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”
he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.
but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.
“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”
“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“
“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”
you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.
“gonna give me what i want?”
“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”
“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”
your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.
white. pure white.
your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.
still rubbing those fucking circles.
“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”
“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”
your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.
“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”
his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.
“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”
you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.
you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.
against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”
“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.
“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“
“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.
carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.
“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”
your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”
he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."
-----
lmk what you think :) love yall -L
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thebearer · 10 months
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the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.
my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!
contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3
"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.
The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"
"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"
Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.
"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.
"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.
"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.
"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.
"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.
Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.
Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.
You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."
Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"
"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"
"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.
"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.
"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."
"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.
"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"
"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."
"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.
"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."
"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.
Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.
Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.
"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"
"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."
Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.
Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"
Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"
"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."
"Carmy-"
"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.
Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.
Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"
"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.
"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"
"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"
"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.
Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.
Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.
"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's
"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."
Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."
"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"
Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."
You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"
"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."
"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.
You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."
"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.
"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."
"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.
He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.
You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.
Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.
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emotionoitme · 10 months
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safe in your skin
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part two of about a girl
carmy berzatto x reader (no use of y/n)
warnings: friends with benefits, bdsm dom/sub undertones, age gap, alcohol & tobacco use, lots of dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex (use condoms!!), choking, mutual pining
wc: 7.5k
a/n: thank you so much for the support on the last chapter! i was literally kicking my legs twirling my hair reading through the replies. please enjoy some more nastiness!! and lots of yearning ofc <3
title fight - safe in your skin
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job hunting was a grueling task, no matter how lucky you get— the girl could feel this physically, shoulders slumped and feet aching. she had dropped off applications at 4 different places that day, eager to start a new job as soon as possible. what she didn’t expect was places seemingly desperate for help saying they’d up to a week to get back to her. she dejectedly checked the time on her phone, strolling down the relatively empty sidewalk. it was a little after 3, meaning she’d have time to check out a few more options before heading home. she wasn’t necessarily enthusiastic about the task, either, searching up bars in her vicinity to take an application to. she finds a smaller looking club on google maps 2 miles away and pulls up walking directions. she was looking for a change of pace, but a club was familiar and she catches a second wind as her steps slow in pace, smelling a delicious aroma heavy in the sunny afternoon air. she raises her head from the phone, looking around to locate the source of the smell. she continues forward, looking in the window of a small business. a makeshift sign taped on the glass reads, “the bear”, name underlined, and “help wanted”. she puts her phone back into her pocket, no longer curious about the club she had found. she opens the front door, entering the small establishment and letting her senses be overtaken by the mouth watering scent emanating from the kitchen. the push of the door rings a small bell, and after being inside alone for a few moments, a tall man comes from the kitchen to stand behind the counter. 
“hey, sweetheart, we’re closed for dinner prep. you can come back in an hour.” he tells her, voice booming. she offers him a smile, approaching the counter. 
“i’m actually here for the help wanted sign. are you guys taking applications?” she asks, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. 
the man lets out a hardy laugh, “you wanna work here? what, victoria’s secret isn’t hiring?” he asks her, scanning her up and down. her small smile drops, rolling her eyes. 
“never mind,” she goes to turn, leave, and take her chances with the club nearby. 
“ah, hey, hey, hey, wait,” he calls after her, “i’m sorry, i’m being an asshole.”
 she shrugs, not entirely disagreeing. he puts a hand out, gesturing to stay, “wait right here and i’ll get carmy.” the tall man disappears behind the kitchen doors, and she takes a quick opportunity to look around, noting the old fashioned decor, a few parts of the restaurant seemingly in renovation. it was noticeably smaller than her old workplace, but harbored a cozy feel, the bustle of the kitchen softly filtering throughout the lobby. she took a copy of her resume out of the small tote bag she was carrying, setting it on the island in front of her. she hears motion, the kitchen doors swinging open and a man clad in a white shirt and blue apron emerges. he approaches her, separated by the counter.
“hey,” he calls, taking her in, slightly, “you, uh, here to apply?”
holy shit, she feels her throat tighten up, studying his face, strong stature, golden brown curls, “hi, yes i am! my name is -,” she introduces, sticking a hand out.
he takes it, momentarily noticing how cold her hands are. 
“carmy,” he returns, “it’s nice to meet you. you, uh, got a resume?” and lets go of her hand. 
she hands it to him, “here,” feeling slightly self conscious as he glances over it, thinking, is this supposed to be my boss? 
“you have a lot of service experience,” he notes, glancing up at her. 
“yeah,” she hesitates, “i’m not sure if that’s what you’re looking for, but i’m a fast learner.”
“no, no, that’s actually what we would need, another front of house,” he responds, “we only have richie right now.”
she feels a light flutter of hope in her chest, encouraged by the reassurance of their lack of competence in the front. 
“are you working now? this last job dates back six months,” he asks, eyes double checking the paper. there was the dreaded question. she was hoping he wouldn’t notice, heat growing in her cheeks a bit. 
“um, yeah…i actually work over at ricky’s,” she admits, hesitantly. his eyes widen a bit, eyebrows raising. 
“i don’t dance, though,” she rushedly clarifies, “i bartend.” 
his eyebrows relax, and a smile creeps at his mouth in realization.
 “yeah, uh, that’s why i didn’t put it on there,” she says, gesturing to the resume he held, “everyone always thinks i’m a dancer.” 
he clears his throat, busying himself with the piece of paper in front of him for a moment before speaking. 
“you a student?” he asks, glancing up to see her nod, bright smile adorning her face. 
“i’m only taking what i can afford right now, which is like two classes, but yeah,” she explains. he doesn’t have reason for why his tongue feels tied, and the back of his neck hot. he shoves it away. 
“well, um, i probably can’t give you more than about 30 hours a week, at least to start. tips are yours to take home but they, uh, probably won’t compare to the tips at ricky’s,” he brings a finger up to his nose, scratching a phantom itch. the girl tilts her head a bit, smiling, “i’ll take that as a challenge,” she quips. a grin breaks his face, not doubting the personable girl. 
“so, uh, when can you start?” he asks. 
“as soon as possible,” she answers, increasingly eager to quit her bartending job. he looks to the side and behind him, towards the kitchen. 
“if you want, i can get you set up today,” he turns back to her, “i think we have some extra aprons in the back.” 
“wait, really?” she reassures, him nodding in response. she lets out a small squeak, clapping her hands, big smile on her face. 
she’s cute, he thinks to himself, watching her enthusiasm, very quickly trying to shake the thought away. don’t be weird, she’s working for you now. off limits. not to mention he knew he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, emotionally speaking. 
“is this okay to wear?” she asks, gesturing to her outfit and effectively breaking him out of his thoughts. he rakes his eyes downwards over her form, shamefully grateful for the opportunity. hugged by a tight white shirt and baggy jeans that hung to expose a long strip of her lower hips, connecting at her front and lower back. he tears his eyes back up to meet hers. 
“yeah, should be fine,” he says, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, “you won’t be working in the kitchen too much at first, so you don’t have to wear a uniform,” he tells her, putting his hands onto the counter, leaning into them slightly. 
“and just regular work clothes for my next shift?” she asks, finding herself also leaning forward to press her weight against the edge of the counter. he nods, “yeah,” a smirk creeps at the edges of his lips, “just uh, maybe not ricky’s attire,” glancing at the girl. she giggles. he thinks it sounds like bells chiming. 
“what?” she tries to sound surprised, “how am i supposed to make the same tips then?” a smile plays on her lips, meeting his eyes. he lets out a laugh, studying her face. 
“i think you’ll find a way,” he responds. the counter space between the two seemed much smaller than earlier, as now he could see her face in much finer detail. he studies it, briefly, then tears his eyes away, forcing himself to step back. he clears his throat,
“follow me,” and begins walking towards the kitchen, “we’ll try and find you an apron. and introduce you to everyone.” 
a slight feeling of nervousness as she trails behind, unsure what “everyone” will entail.
“okay,” she replies, and steps behind the counter. 
 he finds himself in his apartment that night, halfheartedly watching a rerun of an old sitcom on his small tv, his mind wandering back to her time again. he was oddly intrigued by her, wanting to get to know her better. it wasn’t just a physical thing—although she was easy on the eyes— it was her demeanor, sweet and gentle, that somehow immediately smoothed his edges. the staff all took an instant liking to her, welcoming her into the kitchen enthusiastically. sydney seemed happy to have another young woman in the restaurant, tina asking her about her university, richie making the occasional snide comment, but undeniably taking a liking to the new colleague. she made her way around the register system surprisingly fast without training, seamlessly taking orders with the exception of a few brief pauses. carmy kept an eye on the girl throughout the rest of the evening in case she needed him, watching her quickly adapt to the shift of environment. the dinner rush moved shockingly smooth, the large tip jar, empty while richie was manning the front, was halfway full at closing time. he was admittedly impressed with the young woman, trying hard to mentally discern between admiring and enamoring. it was almost as if a bright light had graced the restaurant that evening, leaving carmen with a lingering warm tingle throughout his body. 
he looks around his dark apartment, messy and congested, cigarettes overflowing the ashtray, dishes piling the sink. letting out a deep sigh and running his hand through his curls, he stands, shutting off the tv and making his way to the bedroom. he could clean everything up tomorrow, not that it would make much of a difference, he thinks. although the booming launch of the bear was incredibly uplifting to the chef, reassuring him of the sacrifices he made to keep mikey’s restaurant running, there was still a void carmen felt deep in his heart, growing increasingly apparent in his solitude. he often felt trapped inside of himself, wondering if this was just something he would have to learn to deal with, destined to be defined by his profession, wishing there there was a way he could give into his personal desires while maintaining his professional growth. he crawls into bed and shuts off his lamp light. 
you can’t have your cake and eat it too, a saying he heard from his mom as a kid. he shuts his eyes. 
—                        
fuck. she takes an uneasy breath, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. turning on the faucet, wetting her palms in cold water and bringing the shaky hands to both sides of her face. 
why am i so nervous? 
she wondered if everyone felt this way before a hookup, focusing on deep breaths to calm her nerves. she wasn’t used to this. she had only ever been intimate within relationships, not having experience with casual encounters, nevertheless ones involving her boss. she knew it was a risky pursuit, especially for being a girl with an easily breakable heart, having shed many tears over lovers prior. nevertheless, something about the pull she felt to carmen was magnetic. he was strong, dominant, confident in his work, yet deeply complicated, a dull sadness within his striking eyes. he seemed the type of person to consistently be bearing the heaviest load on his back, and she had an inexplicable urge to relieve him of this, even if only for a moment. she wanted to watch him in bliss at her own control. just have to make sure it doesn’t go too far, she consistently reminds herself. she studies herself in the mirror, skinny straps of a short white sundress peak out from underneath her hair. a dress she specifically chose for him, adorning her exposed chest with a simple gold necklace. she ultimately was aiming to be comfortable for the night, yet each item was intentionally selected with a certain set of eyes in mind. 
i can do it. i’m going to have fun tonight, she tells herself, and potentially fuck my incredibly hot boss, warming at the thought, then i’m never ever gonna think about him again, she internalizes, having had enough with wasted energy on dead end flings. 
she smoothes out the white dress, satisfied with how it hugs her figure, then exits the small bathroom, making her way into her living room. the clock in the adjacent kitchen reads 11:13, and she makes her way to the large window to watch for carmy’s car. she felt erratic, heart palpitating in her chest at each set of headlights that drove by. she opens the window a few inches, breathing in the warm summer night to try and calm her increasing nervousness. it does work, a bit, and she’s able to even out her breathing before leaving. after a moment, a car slowly drives up to the pavement in front of her apartment and stops, engine idling. her phone vibrates on the counter, and she picks it up. 
carmy: i’m here. 
her heart does a leap in her chest, grabbing her keys and turning off the light before opening her front door and walking outside, locking it behind her. she feels slightly self conscious in the headlights while approaching his car, hearing the click of the passenger’s door being pushed open for her. she grabs the door, pulling it all the way open. 
“hi,” she greets, a bit shy. 
“hey,” he replies warmly, silently taking her image in. she climbs into the car and shuts the door behind her, noticing the clean car’s lack of trash and empty ashtray, differing from the previous night. she meets his eyes, a fluttering in her chest. he looks tired, lids low and white shirt wrinkled, but still has a spark in his eyes, clearly admiring the girl’s presentation. he turns his head back in front of him, breaking the eye contact and putting the car into drive. 
“how was close?” she breaks the silence with, noticing the way his eyes flicker back over to her.  
“long,” he admits, “harder without you there.” 
her heart jumps against her ribs, face growing warm at the slight praise. 
“what? you mean richie isn’t the best front of house closer ever?” she feigns surprise, smiling at the thought.
he lets out a scoff, shaking his head, and she softly giggles at this. the lull of the tires against the road fills her ears, noting the limited cars out at this time. her nerves have significantly calmed from before, but she still feels a knot in her stomach, amplified by the light smell of his cologne within the confined space. 
“are you, uh… are you hungry?” he asks her, eyes trained front. she pauses a moment, debating whether she is hungry or the gnawing feeling in her stomach is from nerves alone. 
“yeah,” she replies, “i am.” she wasn’t going to turn down a personal meal from a world class chef, and the thought of him cooking for her before anything else spreads a warmth throughout her chest. 
“good,” a small smile on his face, “i’ll make us somethin’.”
carmen couldn’t help but feel excitement bloom in his chest at the prospect of spending time alone with the young woman, having spent the day at the restaurant mentally preparing for the night. he had been chopping onions before the dinner rush when she closely brushed behind him in the confined space. he was able to smell her sweet perfume, triggering an image of her to flash across his mind— kneeled, lips parted, face flushed, chest bare, leaning into his hands— the knife slipped and he sliced the side of his finger, cursing an obscenity as soon as it happened. he dropped the knife on the cutting board, walking over to the sink, mentally cursing himself for allowing the to perverse thoughts to bleed over into his work, as he promised himself many times they wouldn’t. the bleeding of his finger had stopped quickly under the cool stream of water to reveal a small nick. he was able to put a bandaid on it and get directly back to work, but it plagued him a bit. he wondered if would he be able to maintain the professional kitchen environment in the long run, once the two were satisfied with the fun they’d had. it had proved difficult so far, thoughts of her swarming his head uncontrollably since she had stepped foot into his restaurant. 
the car slows, pulling up to the curb outside carmen’s apartment complex. he pushes the gear shift into park, turning off the engine. 
“this is you?” she asks, to which he nods. “you live closer than i thought you did,” she chimes, opening the door to step out of the car. she smooths the white dress, glancing around the complex. he comes up behind the girl, pressing a hand to the small of her back. 
“this way,” he says, ushering her forward. she can’t help but focus on the warmth of his hand, large and encompassing against her thinly clothed skin. they enter the building, taking the long flight of stairs up to his home, carmy desperately trying to look anywhere else besides the length of her legs leading up to the soft skin of her ass, fully visible as she climbs in front of him. they speedily make it to the top, carmen rustling in his front pocket for the keys. he swings the door open to a dark room, stepping in and flicking on a lamp switch. she follows him in, eyes scanning her surroundings. it was clean and tidy, with piles of various cook books stacked on side tables and a knitted green blanket draped over the old couch. the place smelled like him, and she feels her muscles relax. 
“i know it’s not much, but uh,” he shuts the door, “make yourself at home, please.”
she gives him a big smile, “it’s cute. just what i imagined,” and puts her belongings on a side table, walking around to examine the space. he feels the edges of his lips twitch at her response, watching her look at the scarcity of the place. she spins around, facing him, “you’re really clean, too.” she sounds impressed. 
he smiles at this, appreciating the assumption. 
“it’s not always like this,” he responds truthfully. she lets out a soft laugh and saunters over towards the kitchen island, pushing herself up to sit on the stool he had. he walks to the opposite side of the counter, opening the fridge to gather various ingredients for their dinner. 
“what are you gonna make?” she curiously asks. 
“just uh,” he pauses, looking for an item, “something quick.” he straightens, carrying the ingredients to the counter. he meets her eyes, the two separated by a few feet of laminate, and he feels his chest constrict under her gaze. “some roasted chicken and veggies, with a garlic herb butter,” he turns back to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of unopened wine, beginning to look for a corkscrew. 
“fuck,” she breathes out, “that sounds so good.” 
carmy tenses, stilling for a moment. he loved the way her voice sounded, wanted to hear more. it was apparent he was tightly strung from the grueling week, feeling reactive to everything she said. he pulls the corkscrew out from a drawer, opening the fresh bottle and grabbing two glasses. 
“you want some?” he asks her, holding it up. 
she nods, “yes, please,” eager for a bit of liquid encouragement. he fills the two glasses halfway, handing her one and bringing the side of his glass to clink against hers.
“cheers for making it through the week,” he toasts, earning a giggle from her. 
“cheers! and,” she continues, tilting her head, “cheers for richie not seeing my tits when i was in your office,” she grins and takes a slow sip of the wine, maintaining their eye contact. he lets out a breathy laugh, raising his wine glass to his lips, “yeah, i’ll cheers to that,” and drinks, the red wine dry on his lips. 
with both of their plates empty and the girl’s warm praise still lingering in the room, carmen drinks the remaining wine from his third glass, feeling calm and airy. the apartment is hot and fragrant from the cooking, and the young man notices a pinch of want in the back of his mind, wondering where he had put his cigarettes. 
“do you mind if i go smoke?” he asks her, wine weighing on his tongue. she smiles a bit, shaking her head.
“i’ll go with you,” her voice a bit lower and more drawn out than he would regularly hear it. he nods, standing and walking towards the bedroom to look for a pack of cigarettes. 
“i don’t have a balcony,” he calls from his room, opening his nightstand drawer, “but we can step out onto the fire escape for a bit,” he grabs his carton out of the dresser. carmy walks back into the room to find the girl standing, peering out his window at the black grated fire escape structure. he leans beside her to unlock the window, pushing it open. he puts one leg through, ducks, then steps out, offering a hand for the girl. she takes it, hand small in his, and repeats his actions, noticing a definitive impairment as she joins him outside. 
the night was warm and humid, chicago air damp with the summer monsoon. it smelled good outside, though, air fresh with recent rain, a mellow hum of cicada sounding throughout the trees. carmy flips the carton open, placing a filter between his lips and illuminating his face with the orange of the lighter’s flame. she runs her eyes over his features while they’re briefly lit up, finding herself in a close proximity to him, the two leaning up against the iron railing. she brushes her hair back behind her shoulders, watching the man smoke. the few glasses of wine she had clouded her previous anxieties. she genuinely couldn’t remember what she was worried about now, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the man in front of her. she leans into him, pressing the side of her hip into his thigh, arm flush against his. 
“can i have some?” she asks, staring up at him, glancing down at the cigarette. she didn’t know exactly what it was, the alcohol or him looking so attractive with a cancer stick in his mouth, but she felt compelled to give it another try, having a distaste from previous experience. he turns to face her, gazes locking, a glint of surprise behind his eyes. 
“sure,” he answers, remaining still, pointer and middle finger loosely grasping the cigarette. he glances at her expectantly and she leans over, bringing her mouth to the filter, lips brushing the tips of his fingers. she sucks, carmen watching, completely entranced, then stands upright again, exhaling the smoke with a slight furrow in her brow. the man lets a slight smirk break his face, bringing the cigarette back up to his mouth and inhaling. he studies the dark street behind his building, sporadically illuminated by the soft glow of a street lamp, tiredness catching up with him. she keeps her eyes trained on the man, trailing from his face down his body. she stops at his arms, admiring the sheer strength of them, tracing her sights over his various tattoos. she almost felt overtaken by want in that moment, darting her eyes back up to his lips wrapped around the cigarette. the young woman leans into him further, more of her body touching his and now facing him directly, tipsiness slightly clouding her rationality. 
“carm,” she breathes out, immediately catching his attention. he gazes down at her, cognisant of her breasts pushed against his side, studying her face to find desire written across her features. she brings a hand to his chest, leaning up and gently kissing his neck. she feels his sharp intake of breath under her body, and she smirks at this, placing a few more gentle kisses around the side of his neck. the two had a strict rule about kissing on the lips, but never made the clear distinction to forbid all types of kissing, carmy not daring to protest. his eyes fall closed, focused on the heat of her lips against his neck, the weight of her body on his. he throws the cigarette to the ground, wrapping an arm around her, sliding his fingers up her back and to the base of her skull, carding his fingers through her hair. she nips his neck suddenly, causing him to instinctively tighten his grip, pulling the hair, emanating a breathy moan from the girl. his mouth falls open, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. wrapping his other arm around her back, hand grabbing her hip, he pulls their bodies closer together. carmen’s tight grip doesn’t falter, pulling her head back to see her face, her eyes trailing upwards to meet his. she studies his blown pupils, him drinking her in as if she were a desert oasis. her face is flushed, lids heavy, eyes locked onto his. he leans in and pulls her simultaneously, lightly putting his forehead against hers, noses touching, lips twitching. she can smell the smoke on his breath combined with his fresh deodorant. she finds herself completely intoxicated by this, tightly shutting her eyes, unsure of what she’ll do if she continues to stare. she feels his breath, warm on her lips, so desperate for contact. 
“you like this, don’t you?” he asks, voice a low rumble. 
she gently nods, nose brushing against his, not trusting her voice. a slight tug makes her softly gasp, eyes snapping open. he pulls away, but only slightly. “answer me,” the sound of his voice weakening her knees. he scans his eyes over her face.
“yes,” she breathes out, sounding far more sultry than she intended, “i really like it, carm,” she admits, tone needy. he pulls away from her completely, the girl missing the warmth from his face almost instantly. 
“get inside,” he growls, releasing her hair and removing his arm, leaning over and shoving the window open. 
she takes a second to collect herself, almost dizzy from the eye contact and the growing heat under her dress. she puts her hand on the window ledge, climbing back into the apartment as quickly as she could. carmy follows behind, shutting the window halfway. he eyes the girl, standing by the edge of the counter, then walks past her to the couch, sitting in the middle, leaning back. she shifts, unsure of what to do, her hazed courage of earlier fading. 
“c’mere,” he gestures her over. 
she slowly walks towards him, coming to stand in front of him in between his seated legs, front of her shins bumping into the sofa. he leans forward, bringing his strong hands to caress the back of her thighs, admiring the silkiness of her skin, trailing his palms up and towards the curve of her ass, softly kneading the skin, then stopping. 
“take this off,” he commands, squeezing. her face reddens, inching her hands down to the hem of her dress, slowly pulling it up her thighs. she pauses, before flipping the edge up over her head, taking the dress off completely. he softly groans at the sight, fabric removed to reveal her bare body, clothed only by a pair of skinny black panties. she drops it on the floor, shyly bringing her arms up to cover her breasts. he leans closer to her, pressing a kiss to her navel, bringing his hands up to grab her hips. he marvels at her exposed skin, feeling close to primal with desire, tempted to pull her onto his lap and shove the panties to the side. 
should i?
he glances upwards at her, a smile creeping at the edges of his lips. he slides his left hand down to her the back of her lower thigh, then quickly pulls her body towards him, the girl letting out a sound of surprise, straddling his lap. he pushes her knees open more, hand trailing towards her inner thigh, stroking the soft skin, moving closer to kiss her neck. she lets out a quiet, “yes,” as she leans into the man’s touch, hoping for some release. his fingers brush against the fabric of her clothed mound, making her buck her hips forward a bit. 
“want me to touch you?” he asks her, voice low in tone. she quickly nods her head, biting down on her lip to prevent any escaping noise. he brings his pointer finger to her clothed slit, dragging it up and down over the sensitive area a few times, noticing the abundant slickness beneath the fabric. her eyes flutter closed, cherishing the delicate contact, craving far more. carmen watches her closely, pulling his hand away. her brow furrows, to which he smiles. bringing his left hand from her thigh, he grabs the black panties and pulls them to the side, exposing her glistening core. he groans at the sight, the girls face flushing, bringing his thumb to rest on her swollen clit, unmoving. she whimpers at the sensitivity, bucking her hips forward once more, to which he tightens his grip on her thigh in response. he starts rubbing small, torturous circles with his thumb, thoroughly enjoying the reaction of her body, heat eminating from between her legs, juices dripping down the insides of her thighs and down onto his pants. 
“you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he tells her, cock straining against his pants. she’s too embarrassed to respond, closing her eyes and throwing her arms over carmen’s shoulders, resting her face in the crevice of his neck as he continues his circles at a faster pace, dipping his middle finger down to rest against her opening. she kisses his neck, needy for more and tired of waiting, giving a thrust of her hips to sink herself onto his finger. she releases a drawn out moan, clenching around the soaked digit. 
“fuck,” he curses. 
a sharp smack lands on her thigh, the girl softly whimpering in response, coming back up to meet carmen’s eyes. he has a stern look on his face, a glint of enjoyment present.
“you want me inside of you that bad?” he questions, beginning a soft curling motion with his finger, loving the way she begins to fall apart. 
“yesss,” she pleads, breathing heavily, trying to get closer to him, her hand coming up to the base of his neck to anchor herself. he increases the pace, bringing his thumb back to circle the bundle of nerves. feeling her relax at the pleasure, he pushes a second finger into her, marveling at the hot constriction of her walls. his pulses become rhythmic, middle and ring finger fucking into her, a wet squelching sound beginning to fill the room. her panting moans uncontrollably increase in crescendo, quickly clamping her teeth down to bite her lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching her come undone. he studies her face, closely— eyes screwed shut and head thrown back, trying to seem less affected by his fingers than she obviously is. 
his eyes trail down to her bare chest, nipples perked. 
jesus christ
carmy slows the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper now. he shifts, bringing his lips to brush against her right breast, trailing upwards to her nipple, gently sucking the bud into his mouth. 
her teeth release from her lips, letting out a whimper from the pleasure. 
he smirks a little, motivated from the noise, taking his fingers almost completely out and easing them back in entirely. his thumb continues its feather like circles around her clit, carmy teasing a gentle bite to her nipple. obscene sounds plentifully spill from her mouth, leaning forward into him as he comes up from her breast. her eyes open and lock with his,
“oh my god, yes,” she cries, breath increasingly heavy, his slow fingers bringing her to the edge. a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth as he continues the same movements, watching her approach her climax, eyes shutting tightly, head leaning back. 
“please don’t stop,” her words come rushed, “i’m-“ 
he withdraws his fingers from inside of her, removing his hand from her warmth completely. she lifts her head immediately and looks to the man, confusion and frustration apparent on her face. he lets his smirk grow. 
“what?” he asks, watching her brows furrow further, “did you think i was gonna let you cum?” he asks as he grips her thighs. 
“you’re cruel,” she whines, head falling against his shoulder. 
“yeah?” the smirk on his face was prevalent in his tone. she shifts the placement of her head and comes to gently kiss the bottom of his neck, the hand resting on his chest slowly inching down his stomach and caressing the skin that meets the edge of his pants.
“yeah,” she responds. another kiss to his neck, this one higher up. she sits up slightly to move her hands lower, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. she goes to greedily pull the waist band of his underwear, and he stops her, grabbing her wrist. 
“get down on your knees,” he commands, voice rough. she feels a surge of excitement run through her, easing herself to the ground between his legs, eager to inflict on him the pleasure she endured moments earlier, a dull ache residing in her core. she helps him pull his jeans down around his ankles, him kicking them off completely. she runs her hands over the tops of his strong thighs, then bringing her lips to trail kisses from his lower to upper thigh, teasing closer and closer to his clothed bulge, straining against the fabric. he sits up, slightly, pulling his shirt off over his head. she could swear her mouth watered at the sight, shamelessly gawking at his broad muscles completely exposed, along with tattoos she’s never had the pleasure of seeing. she rubs the palm of her hand over the solid bulge, inching towards the waistband of his briefs. in a fluid motion she quickly peels them towards her, carmy’s cock springing from the confinement and slapping against his stomach. she can’t help but let out a soft moan at the sight, bringing a hand up to grasp the base of his cock, thick and heavy in her hand. the young woman marvels, a bit. 
“it’s big,” she observes, glancing up at him, then back down. she slowly jerks her hand up and down a few times, nervously eyeing the length. she leans forward, placing a hand on his thigh, and licking a long stripe up the side of his cock, then softly kisses the tip, brushing the head against her plumped lips. she looks up at the man’s face, jaw clenched and eyes completely fixated on her. she flattens her tongue and licks the head of his penis, swirling it around the tip. when she locks eyes with him and grins at him, tongue on his cock, he nearly explodes, throwing his head back against the couch and groaning. she presses her bare breasts against his thighs, now engulfing his length in her mouth, slowly moving up and down, hand wrapping around to stroke what she can’t fit. he grunts, bringing his hand up to his mouth, biting his knuckles for composure. she falls into a pace, saliva coating his cock, dripping onto his stomach. she forces her mouth down deeper onto him, gagging, tears brimming her eyes. 
“fuck!” he exclaims, jolting forward. he grabs her hair, gathering it with his hands to keep it out of the way, using every ounce of resistance he has to keep from pushing her head down further onto him. she sinks her mouth lower, bobbing her head and quickening her pace. he tightens his grip on her hair and says her name. she looks up in inquiry, releasing him from her mouth with a wet pop. she continues to stroke his length, meeting his eyes. 
“stand up,” he tells the girl, her immediately complying and getting up, wiping the spit away from her mouth. he comes to lean forward, eye level with her stomach, hooking his fingers into the sides of her panties and removing them altogether. he looks up to her. 
“go get on the bed,” watching her quickly nod and turn towards his bedroom, standing and following the girl, both of them stark in their nudity. his eyes fall to her round ass, bringing a hand up to give it a small smack. she lets out a little yelp in surprise, turning over her shoulder to find a grin on his face. upon entering the dark room, carmy walks to the end of the bed, switching on a lamp on his dresser. the girl crawls onto the bed, flipping to lay on her back, resting her head on his pillow. she watches him from across the room, raising a knee to stack and bringing her hand up to her chest. she runs her thumb over her perked nipple, tracing her free hand down her navel to the crease of her thigh, staring at the man. he turns to her, raking his eyes over her laying form. her hand shifts lower, fingers brushing over her slickened clit, letting out a soft gasp. she arches her back slightly, rubbing small, soft circles over her sensitivity, locking eyes with the man. 
jesus fuck, he internalizes, praying to god this image would remain forever burned into his brain, cock twitching. 
there was something about the man that completely diminished her inhibitions, allowing her to fully submit to her desires and finding her brain instantly numb at his control. she tweaks her nipple, letting out a moan, face flushing, lips parting to speak. 
“come fuck me already, carmy,” she breathes out, movements faltering. he immediately reacts, getting onto the bed, hands hooking under her thighs and pulling her lower body flush to his, his cock laying over her pelvis.
“can’t wait anymore?” he asks lowly, fully knowing his own desire is immeasurable, desperate to be inside of her. 
“no,” she whines, bucking her hips and unintentionally spreading her slickness over the bottom of his length. he lets out a strained breath, running his thumb over her hipbones, grip tightening. he pulls back, then slowly thrusts forward to glide through her folds, feeling her grow increasingly wet. he moves back slightly, now gripping his cock and giving it a stroke, pressing it against her opening. he shifts his hips, slowly inserting the head. he looks to her, meeting her eyes. 
“this ok?” he asks, scanning her face, watching her nod enthusiastically. 
“put it in, please,” she pleads. 
he pushes his hips forward, sinking inside of her inch by inch. the two watch the sight, entranced, a harmonious moan ripping through the both of them. buried to the hilt, carmy pauses, coming forward to lean over her— resting his right forearm by her head, his left arm wrapping around her leg and hoisting it up over his lower back. she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in further. his thrusts start slow and shallow, face buried in her neck, almost in disbelief of the pleasure, so much better than those dreams. he bottoms out, hearing her gasp. 
“you feel,” she breathes out, “so good,” her eyes screwing shut. he thrusts, again, slowly, moving his hand to grip her ass. 
“fuck, baby” he groans into her neck, hips working at a delicate pace. she clenches involuntarily at the name, eager for more, urging him closer with her leg. he recognizes the cue, bringing his leg in closer, pulling out almost completely then plunging back into her. she pants, bringing a shaky hand up to grab his sturdy bicep for stability, feeling his strong muscles ripple underneath her grip. he bites down on his bottom lip, face and chest flushed as he pulls his cock back out of her tightness, thoroughly enjoying the view. he snaps his hips forward, the girl crying out, squeezing his arm tightly. carmen settles into a heightened pace, the depth of his cock igniting a fire within the girl. she moves a hand down and circles her sensitive clit with two fingers, feeling her orgasm already rapidly building as he lifts her lower back slightly off the mattress, driving into her harder. breaths grow heavy, the room gets hotter, skin slaps against skin. he brings his hand up to the side of her face, coming to hover above her, locking eyes. her whole face is flush, baby hairs sticking up, a wild lust in her gaze. carmy snaps his hips harder. 
“you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her in pace with his thrusts, the girl letting out a moan in response, ripping her hand away from her clit as to not fall over the peak. everything is almost too much as the man relentlessly fucks her, savoring every sound, feeling, sight, not knowing if this would ever happen again. her climax approaches closer with each strong thrust of his hips, and she feels compelled to ask permission. 
“carmy,” she whimpers, “can i please cum?”
he groans, moving his hand to rest on her throat. 
“hold on baby, almost,” he grits through his clenched jaw, driving his cock deeply into her, slick juices spreading everywhere. she brings her hand to the back of his neck, grabbing his curly brown locks and tugging. he lets out a sharp breath at the action, hammering his hips against her, hoisting her leg a bit higher. his thrusts stutter, feeling himself grow impossibly closer to the edge. her moans become a chorus of “please, please, please,” desperate to cum around his cock. he grins slightly at her anticipation, lightly putting pressure against her throat. 
“you gonna cum for me?” he growls, feeling himself approaching his own orgasm. she nods, tears brimming her eyes, face contorted in pleasure. his simple words snap the final string holding her together, and she comes undone with a loud cry, digging her nails into his back. the pleasure feels white hot throughout her body, waves of euphoria overtaking her. her body shivers, the clenching of her heat around carmen is enough to push him over his edge as he lets out a strangled moan, hot cum shooting into her, cock pulsing against her walls. they both lay there still, riding out the aftershocks together, bodies flush. they both catch their breaths for a moment, basking in the warmth of each other. carmy pushes himself up onto his forearm, grabbing her face with a strong hand and planting a kiss on her cheek, then one on her forehead. she tries to ignore the butterflies that erupt inside of her. he reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a few tissues, then slowly pulls out of her, his cum spilling down the curve of her ass. he gently cleans her up with the tissue, walking to the bathroom to throw them away once she’s dry. he returns to his room to see her sprawled onto her side, laying over his pillows. he joins in, laying next to her, scooting his strong arm under her head. she scoots closer to him, hand on his chest. he’s warm, smells good, feels safe, and she finds her eyes close for a moment. 
“i’ll leave in just a sec,” she tells him softly, “i’m just so comfy.”
he wraps his other arm around her, kissing her forehead once more. 
“stay the night,” he suggests, knowing it’s for a selfish reason, currently unable to fathom sleeping in a cold and empty bed without her presence. she happily hums in response, snuggling closer, already feeling herself drifting off. he closely watches the girl laying in his arms, eyes flickering over her face. he admires her features up close, examining what he’s usually too far away to see, running his eyes over a few faded freckles, the light peach fuzz on her cheek, the glimmer of a golden nose ring. he feels a twinge in his chest, resting his forehead against the sleeping girl’s, her deep breathing melodic to his tired ears. carmy knew deep down he wouldn’t be able to entertain this forever, opting to cherish the feeling of her against him while it lasts. he reaches to the foot of the bed, pulling a throw blanket up over the two of them, not bothering to shut off the lamp. he feels a sweet relief once he pulls her into him once more, nuzzling his nose into her hair. he shuts his eyes, the events from the day catching up to him. 
he finds the last thing he thinks about before drifting into sleep is her, sweet and airy, breathing in her scent closely. he hears a dreamlike giggle, reminiscent of bells chiming, and smiles softly. 
— 
i hope you enjoyed! writing for these two gives me the butterflies fr
chapter 3 hopefully in the works! <33 if you enjoy please let me know :)
part 3 - human, for a minute
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answer2jeff · 8 months
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SHARING SPACE — Carmen Berzatto.
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synopsis: just a blurb, how you ended up moving in with Carmen :)
warnings: established relationship, reader is implied female (but little use of specific pronouns), fluffy headcanons, some smutty implications, some smutty implications but still fluff, mentions of alcohol and smoking, blurb is set once they're rebranding The Beef into The Bear.
i need more Carmen fluff this man is my whole life. btw this is super short but i'm sooooo burnt out :'(
It started with you "accidentally" falling asleep in his bed from the night before, panicking and hurrying to put your clothes in the morning before he had to rush to work. You weren't technically dating, but you were too close for comfort to be considered something as shallow as "friends with benefits." It was more than that.
But then things seemed to slow down. It turned into spending an extra ten minutes enveloped in each others arms. You shared, "good mornings" between sickly sweet kisses, his hands feeling up and down your torso while your fingers entangled in his hair. Carmen whispered about how much he didn't want to leave—as much as both of you knew he had to.
"You're gonna be late, Carmy." You'd groan, cupping his clean-shaven face and planting small kisses on his cheeks. Carmen let out a sigh of disappointment, realizing his short moment of bliss would be over the second he thought about leaving.
"I'm gonna clean up, 'kay?" He'd mumble, kissing your sweet lips one last time. His pupils dilated at the sight of you in his sheets, something he wish he didn't have to cherish from how little free time he seemed to have.
"Mhm."
Once he'd hop in the shower, you'd get yourself dressed before pouring him a warm cup of coffee, occasionally placing any dirty dishes stranded in the kitchen in the sink as an act of courtesy. You'd check the time, 7:00am,
As much as it pained you to leave without a proper goodbye, you worried that Carmen needed space- that he didn't have time to pepper kisses along your cheeks before he left.
"Bye Carmy!" You'd call out, but not quite loud enough for him to hear from the bathroom.
He wished you would've stayed just a little longer.
Eventually, you caught on. At one point, you swore you saw Carmen popping his head back into his bedroom to see if you were still there as you were already halfway out the door. From that point on, you started leaving little notes next to his coffee, littered with "I'm so proud of you," and sweet comments like, "break a leg Bear," and sometimes even an "I'll see you soon."
Then it turned into spending all weekend, every weekend, in his apartment—even though you'd been stopping by the restaurant between closing hours, and spending a good hour or two with him every other day of the week.
It just wasn't enough.
You started bringing a share-sized blanket and bottles of your favorite drinks whenever you came over, which was practically 4-5 times a week by that point.That blanket ended up rotating between your apartment and his, until it finally resided on the couch.
Wrapping himself in that blanket whenever you weren't around, reminded him that there was something else to think about; that there was someone else who needed him just as much as he did them.
You started leaving little things like your hoop earrings on the kitchen counter, or your puffer jacket on his coatrack, wondering if they'd still be there by next weekend; wondering if Carmen would ever have the heart to give them back to you. (Spoiler alert, he kept everything you ever "forgot"' in the exact same spot. Having a piece of you in his home at all times seemed to make up for your absence during the week, even if it just made him miss you more.)
Then you started packing extra clothes with you that you'd stuff into an empty drawer in Carmen's dresser. You brought your travel-sized, makeup bag with you, which you just ended up leaving in his bathroom. Along with your meds, and your skin care, and practically everything else you couldn't live without.
...
"You should just move in at this point." Carmen let out a breathy laugh as he watched you do your makeup, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Not even 20 minutes ago, he saw you pick out an entire outfit from the spare clothes you brought, not even realizing that you left a pair of black shoes that went with everything, right in his shoe rack.
"I practically live here now," you paused to put on some mascara, your mouth gaping open as you tried to concentrate, "but my lease is up on the 23rd." You joked, twisting the cap on your mascara back on and tossing it into your makeup bag.
"I mean—would you want to? Live here? With—with me?" He physically turned to look at you, your reflection not giving him enough clarity. He needed to see you, whether you said yes or no. You felt your stomach turn, and the question seemed unreal.
"I— yeah, I guess. Only if you want me to, but that'd be pretty... cool." You turned your head to face him, gazing into his desperate eyes. He needed to be able to call this apartment "ours," not just "his."
This apartment felt more like a home than you than anywhere else you resided in Chicago. You made your commute to work from this apartment, you ate and showered and slept in this apartment, bits and pieces of you were tossed all around this apartment, you brought home every new piece of clothing and jewelry back to this apartment.
Carmen literally made you keep a spare key in your wallet, advising you to come over whenever you needed something—even if he wasn't home. He trusted you with his space,
He took it upon himself to buy you a toothbrush, the shampoo and conditioner you raved about after he complimented your hair, and extra pads/tampons/menstrual cups (since he wasn't sure what you used,) just for when his bathroom would be occupied by you. He cleaned out the hidden cabinet behind the mirror above the sink, making sure you had a place for all of your things. He moved all of his cologne, deodorant, lotion, etc in the cabinet underneath it.
All he ever wanted was to make sure you felt safe.
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beauspot · 10 months
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ok this needs to be said because i don’t like the framing around this conversation at all.
Carmy has never been truly loved the way he needs to by anyone.
His sister, Sugar, tried and she probably did her best, but she grew up in the same fucked up environment he did. Growing up in abusive home, with an alcoholic mother who had extreme mood swings was not a conducive environment to learn what a good relationship looks like. Carmy really doesn’t have friends, he’s only just starting to make them and he said he’s never had a girlfriend before. Claire—as much of cardboard cutout she might be—is his first experience dating, of course he’s going to be wrapped up completely in her because possibly for the first time in his life he felt wanted.
That doesn’t excuse his behavior, but i don’t like people acting like Carmy is being malicious when in reality he’s acting irrationally because he genuinely does not know any better. When he does know better, Carmy adjusts, he changes so he can be better for those people around him.
He is not perfect, but that’s what makes him interesting and i think these fuckups and failures along the way will lead him to understand what he wants from a relationship and what he can give. He’ll learn where to stand his ground and where to compromise and he’ll find that balance, but we have to let him. Experiencing your first relationship in your 20s when most people experience those things in their teens can make you feel like you’re taking your first steps while everyone else is running a marathon, so just like…give him some grace please
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Can I humbly request a part two to the Carmy fic you just posted? It had me kicking my feet and giggling
Of course!!! Here you go 🩵
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summary: you're going to the awards event with carmy, and things happen in the big, fancy, chandelier-ed bathroom.
genre: smut
pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings: smut, 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, almost public sex, bathroom sex
part one (you don't need to read this to catch up).
Masterlist
-----
somehow--from all the teasing, the tension, the touching--somehow, you've agreed to go to the awards event with carmen. as carmen's date.
you're standing in front of your mirror in a navy gown to match carmen's suit, and as your palms are sweating, you pinch yourself mentally to make sure this is really happening.
how did you get here? what the fuck happened in the shop that-
you hear your phone ring. a text from carmen:
i'm outside. no rush. take your time.
okay, no time to panic and go through a crisis. it's go time. you take your purse, put on your heels and go down to meet carmen.
"holy shit." he whispers when he sees you step out of your apartment building.
"hi." you smile shyly.
carmen's smile grows. "you look beautiful."
"thank you. you look handsome."
"all thanks to you." he says.
"you two lovebirds done? we're running late." richie rolls down the window from the driver's seat.
carmen curses richie in his head before opening the door for you, letting you sit next to him at the back while syd takes the passenger seat.
the ride to the event venue isn't quiet. richie is arguing with syd about some stuff for the bear, but your mind is focused on one thing: carmen's hand on your thigh--
--oh, let me rephrase. carmen's left hand on your inner, upper thigh. his hand slipped through the slit of your dress, and he can feel the heat coming from your cunt. you cross your legs so that syd won't be able to see and to get some friction while carmen smirks, squeezing your thigh and sliding his fingers closer to your clothed cunt.
you slowly take a deep breath, gripping his elbow tightly, and he just kisses the side of your forehead.
"stay still." he whispers.
you feel tingly with anticipation, and just as carmen's finger is about to gently, ever so slightly touch your aching clit, richie stops the car and announces, "we're here."
"fucking hell." you curse lowly and earn a chuckle from carmen.
he steps out of the car and helps you out, arm circling your waist and pulling you close once you're on your feet. "don't worry. we've got time."
you can't stop staring at his damned blue eyes and lips. the way he smells so good and the way he looks at you makes your insides churn in the best way possible.
carmen intertwines your hand in his and leads you into the venue. for what carmen called a 'small event', it has more cameramen and is way fancier than what you imagined.
"this is... a lot of people," you comment when the doors to the ballroom open.
carmen's hand is on your lower back, keeping you close. "you want something to drink?"
you nod and carmen first takes you to the table you're all sitting at before asking one of the waiters for the specialty drink. it's some fancy fruit infused champagne that you don't really understand, but if it's alcohol, it'll do.
you're surprised when you see carmen one-shotting the champagne and you touch his leg to get his attention. "carmen, you okay?"
"yeah," he reassures you. "just a little nervous. nothing to worry about."
"carmen's nominated, that's why he's so nervous." richie says. "relax cousin, we all know you're gonna win."
"it's not a big deal, alright? it doesn't matter," carmen says, dismissing the conversation. though he says that, you can see his leg is furiously shaking under the table, so you give his hand a squeeze before standing up.
"i'm gonna use the bathroom." you excuse yourself, but not before giving carmen a look.
you're hoping carmen will take the hint. you didn't exactly have an agreement on what "i'm gonna use the bathroom" with that certain look means, but you're hoping what you're about to do will help with carmen's nerves.
and then you see carmen turning the corner, so while no one is coming, you pull him to the small hallway you're at to hide from the crowd.
"there you are." he smiles.
"hi." you smile back.
carmen's heart is beating fast, and you're hoping it's because of your little getaway. his hand moves to cup your cheek and he brings your face closer to his.
"can i kiss you?"
nodding slowly, you circle your arms around his neck and close your eyes, feeling carmen's soft plush lips against yours. the kiss feels euphoric, feels unreal. he's so gentle yet firm, and the way he holds you so close to him makes you feel safe in his arms.
while breaking the kiss to catch your breaths, carmen peeks out to see if anyone's around.
"what're you doing?" you ask.
carmen has a smirk on his face, and though he looks super handsome, what carmen has in mind is definitely what you thought of when you signaled him to follow you to the bathroom.
he sneaks you into the men's bathroom while it's empty and goes into one of the stalls. the door and walls of the stall is covered from floor to ceiling, so no one can really tell a woman's in there unless you make a sound.
"carmen," you whisper, eyes wide to tell him how crazy this is.
"what?" he chuckles, kissing you again.
"what if someone hears me?" you ask in between.
smirking again, carmen kisses the spot just below your ear. "then you'll have to keep quiet."
"but-"
your sentence gets cut off when you hear someone enter the bathroom. it's a big bathroom, which means the chances of someone catching you two is smaller, but it also means that voices echo.
your eyes keep staring at carmen in disbelief when he slips his hand through the slit of your dress and inches slowly to your core. you have to cover your mouth and hold back a gasp when he suddenly drags his thumb over your clit.
but he doesn't move his thumb. it's just there, touching your clit, applying just enough pressure to leave you wanting more. you'd unconsciously clench from the lack of friction, and carmen's smirk only grows.
you buck your hips up and carmen holds it in place with his other hand. "patience." he whispers.
with pleading eyes, you take his hand and drag it down to the wetness pooling between your legs. "please carmen," you whisper, "i need you."
"holy shit." carmen's jaw drops.
carmen pushes your soaked panties aside and his fingers come in contact with your wetness. almost instinctively, carmen drops down to his knees. and, while keeping eye contact with you, he bunches your gown up, pulls your sticky panties down, and slowly kisses just above your clit.
"jesus-" you almost say out loud and slap your mouth shut, just in time for the door outside to open and a few men come in talking.
carmen squeezes your thigh before kissing the same spot and placing your hand on his head. he starts licking just below the surface, softly, gently, but when your frustration leads you to pull a fistful of his hair, carmen gets the hint and picks up his pace.
not making a sound is fucking hard, but with carmen's head between your legs sloppily devouring you, your voice is the least of your worries right now. you gently pull carmen up to stand. "as much as i would love you to finish what you're doing... i don't think we the time or place for that."
you help him with his belt and pull his pants down just enough to free his constrained cock and stroke it a few times. carmen bites his tongue as to not moan out loud and turns you around, pushing your dress out of the way again and rubs himself between your slit.
"fucking hell." he sighs when he pushes into you, feeling your warmth and tightness.
he can't go too fast, because it'll be too loud. but going slow would kill both of you. he tries to control his pace so that his balls won't slap against your clit, but the few times that they do, you try your best not to cry out of pleasure.
carmen feels so fucking good inside you. it's as if he was made out of a mold and that mold is your pussy.
your one hand is still covering your mouth while the other is pushing your weight against the door. you feel someone checking whether your stall is available or not before going to the next stall. you look back at carmen to signal him to stop moving so he won't hear you, but carmen has a different idea.
one of his hands is holding your hips and your gown on the side, and the other sneaks around under to where you're connected and he starts touching the bundle of nerves that's already throbbing.
your eyes widen as you shake your head at him, trying to tell him "don't you dare", but carmen, indeed, dares. not so slowly, carmen rubs your clit while thrusting his hips, causing your eyes to roll back while you try to keep your panting to a minimum.
carmen bends over to fully push your body against the door and nips at your neck, urging you to come around him as he comes inside you, feeling your pulsing walls.
"fuck." carmen says out loud and your eyes snap wide open to look at him, as if saying "what have you done".
but there is no response anyone, just the sound of the sink being turned off and the door being closed. that was a close one.
carmen holds back his laughter and turns you around, kissing you over and over, and not letting you go. his way of saying "you're fucking amazing."
later that night, carmen wins the award and thanks everyone on his team, his family, and though he didn't specifically mention your name on stage, the knowing smile he sent you and the things he did to you after the show were more than enough to convey how special you are to him.
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hilsoncrater · 10 months
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it's. 3 AM so. excuse this post for being A Mess
but someone give jamie lee curtis a goddamn fucking emmy for her portrayal of donna berzatto. holy fuck. the alcoholic spiral, her hot & cold volatile moods, her connection to her boys but not to her daughter, her batshit unhinged behavior, her overwhelming depression...."no one would fucking miss me" "maybe if i took a gun to my head and shot myself" "do you know how much i fucking hate it when you ask if i'm okay?"
she's violent and it's all rubbed off on mikey. she's violent and it's fucked irrevocably with nat's head. she's violent and it's driven carmy away yet left him feeling guilty for getting the fuck out of there.
it's the way the chaos in the kitchen at the Beef was an extension of her legacy. generational trauma dripping down from her to mikey to carmy until the Beef's shutdown death. donna berzatto is entropy in the kitchen — the metaphorical space for interpersonal relationships, for closeness — and she justified the turmoil by the outcome she achieved. the seven fishes. the seven different meals. the ends justified the means, so don't you dare ask if she's okay because look! look! there are seven different meals cooked on the table that she's done! she's a provider all she ever does is provide but does anyone ever pause to say thank you? could a Not Okay person cook this complex meal? she's fucking fine just look at the seven goddamn fishes.
it's all right there in the food, she's burying herself in the food. it's this overcompensation to mask her shot mental state.
"just because i love it doesn't mean i enjoy it" = just because i love my family doesn't mean i enjoy them.
and it's becoming so clear that the gutting of the Beef is a purging of the past. they honor where they came from by naming the new restaurant The Bear, but they will move forward with new tools and a new outlook. it's breaking the messy, toxic kitchen cycle with better equipment and better people and a better foundation. doing it right this time right down to the licenses
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unladyboss · 8 months
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BIZARRE: CARMY TO SYDNEY
In season 2 episode 8, the scene where Carmy shows Syd the drawings for the chaos menu was a little bizarre to me.
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He could have said " you know I was thinking about the chaos menu and wanted to just start something to show you and get your input, so we can develop it together."
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Instead he talks about being with Claire last night and her helping him to realize stuff he shouldn't care about anymore.
I feel that was designed to get a reaction from Syd, to kind of FORCE her to admit something about how she feels about him. As soon as her expression changes he's on it: "why are you being like that?"
This would be the point where he'd expect her to say the something he wants her to say but she talks about the menu and Claire' involvement in the menu
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He's clearly irritated by that, especially when Syd said 'your girlfriend ' he insists that Claire isn't his girlfriend.
Then a little later Syd said ' you have to decide'. Carmy kinda straightens his body almost in anticipation and says " wh- what do I have to decide?"
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I'm thinking that's when he expected Syd to say anything about how she feels but he is disappointed yet again because she talks about his decision about whether Claire is a friend or girlfriend. You can see him realize that Syd isn't going to say what he wanted her to say. He doesn't even talk about Claire just then. He says " I don't want to be shi--y"
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I want to know why Syd has to admit to something so overt, when it's clear that she admires him. What if she DID admit something? Is he emotionally equipped to handle that?
What would he have done?
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thatone-brightstar · 6 months
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Kinktober winner: "Jealousy and other fire hazards" (Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader)
a/n: so this was supposed to be out yesterday but i went out on saturday and i think i caught a cold or something bc i feel like absolute shit. non the less, here is our kinktober winner!!! also can you tell i mashed up two of my favorite blurbs!? enjoy and remember reblogs and comments are the way to show appreciation for your favorite creators 🖤
ps. Happy Halloween!!
Warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, unprotected piv sex, hair pulling, rough, choking, creampie, probably other stuff too but i forgot lol
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Your heels clicked lightly as you stumbled into the apartment, angrily flinging your keys at the hallway table and not bothering to see if they even made it, before blindly moving into the kitchen. 
“I don’t get- shit-” You groan, stumbling right into the kitchen counter. “-what the fuckin’ deal is, Carmen.”
He follows behind you in the same pissy mood, the tension prevalent in the strained tendon that runs down the side of his neck. Carmen rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, leaning against the counter and watching you pull ingredient after ingredient from the dimly lit fridge. His anger subsides for a few subtle seconds when his eyes roam the silhouette of the tiny black dress you considered your ‘witch’s costume’ and the one that had him by the balls all fucking night.
You slam the fridge door hard enough to pull him from his thoughts and he clears his throat. “The fuckin’ deal is that you were letting some jagoff sweet talk you-” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “- what, I leave you alone for five minutes and you already got a bunch of idiots behind you?!”
“First off, it was one idiot.” You argue back, struggling to light the stove between your blurry vision. “And second, why are you acting like it’s my fault!? I didn’t start the conversation!”
“Yeah, but you seemed pretty comfortable with the attention… fuckin’ gigglin’ n’ shit.” His accent grows stronger when he’s pissed and you try to avoid the feeling seeing him angry rises on your skin. 
Instead you scoff in a mocking tone, one that turns excited once the flame finally burns bright in front of you. “Aw what, you jealous?” you throw over your shoulder, ignoring the tightness of his jaw, illuminated by the tiny lightbulb from the stove.  
He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you assume that maybe he’s let it go and has moved into the bedroom. ‘What a shame,’ the voice in your head taunts as you pop a spoonful of peanut butter into your mouth while you wait for the cheese to melt on your quesadilla. ‘it would’ve been fun.’
You feel it before turning around, the heavy warmth exuding from another body close to your back. The pointed hat over your head blocks your vision past your shoulders but you can still feel him linger behind you. With light fingers, Carmy runs his hand softly up the sheer glove on your forearm until it reaches the curve of your shoulder. oh.
“Jealous?” He whispers, making the exposed skin shiver. “I don’t need to be jealous…”
You’re about to turn around- hooded eyes glossy with the alcohol in your system and the sweet anticipation of what could happen next- but before you can move, his hands take a hold of your hips and press your back against his hard chest.
“Should I be jealous?”His tone is taunting, breathy enough that he sees the bumps on your skin start to rise even in the low light. He pushes your hair over to your other shoulder, being careful with the hat that blocks half the view of your face. All he can see is your parted lips and the sweet little heaves that show just how much his touch affects you. “Hmm?”
“No…” You answer immediately, bewitched by the rhythmic touch of his hand on your torso. Each time it almost reaches your breasts, he pulls it back down again, then up when he hits the edge of your hip bone. 
You don’t notice how your head’s fallen back over his shoulder or how your hands rest over his wandering ones, urging them to touch your body further, the simple touch of his hands makes you lightheaded but it’s not enough to drown out the ache between your thighs.
“Carmy…”
Your sweet moan vibrates over his chest, his hands twitch slightly and the sound seems to push them down to where you want him most. His chest separates just enough to let you turn between his hold and not a second goes by before you fling your arms around his shoulders and seal your lips to his.
A hungry groan escapes his mouth. With one hand gripping the nape of your neck, he turns you in your spot, making your heels squeak over the floor and the witch hat fly to a different part in the room.
“Fuck-” You let out in surprise when his hands grip tightly on your waist and hoist you up in a rush, it’s as if he can’t get close to you quick enough.
While his lips latch on to your neck again, your hands work on the many buttons of his shirt. He’s too impatient for that, though, and rather than waiting a few seconds, he lifts it over his head, undershirt and all. You have no time to admire his swelling chest before his lips are back on yours and his hands prying your thighs apart to make space for him. Your dress rolls around your hips, but you’re too turned on to care.
“Fuckin’ idiot…” He breathes out between kisses. “...bet he wanted to have you like this.”
His lips drag onto your neck while his hand starts to play insistent circles over your panties and fishnets. Your nails dig into his exposed shoulders, helping your hips grind against his touch.
“D’you think he’d have you like this? Fuckin’ squirming on his hand?” You shake your head more out of habit than attention, thoughts too clouded with the feeling of his hard cock pressing to the inside of your thigh.
“Baby, please…” You moan again, closer to his ear and you can almost swear his groan unearthed something deep in you.
“Whose is it?” Carmy sneers, eyes so dark that any trace of blue is long gone. His thumb presses deeper into you and a shockwave travels up your spine and into your scalp. “C’mon baby… tell me it’s mine and I'll give you what you want.”
Your mouth feels dry from all the heavy breaths you’re taking but you gasp out a short answer. “All yours.”
“Yeah?” He asks, thumb speeding up circles over your soaked underwear while the other hand undoes his belt frantically.
“All yours, Bear, please jus’... fuck.” 
You’re about to protest when he pulls back his thumb and there’s nothing to dull out the throbbing ache anymore, but a dry sound, almost like a whip, echoes in the silent room. You only have time to look down at the torn up mess your tights have become before your eyes roll back into your skull at the tight sensation of his head resting at your entrance. 
Carmy slips in just perfect and lets his head fall over your shoulder, watching your cunt swallow him slowly, inch by inch. He’s mesmerized by the sensation of your joined bodies that he almost doesn't notice your protesting groans and the way you wiggle your hips to make him move quicker.
He lets out a soft chuckle and kisses your naked shoulder, where one of the straps of your dress has cascaded to the side; then with a firm hand over your clavicle, he pushes your back flat against the cold surface. Your eyes are hooded and bright, filled with mischief and anticipation that soon turns to excitement once you feel him pull out slowly.
A sudden gasp leaves your throat with the first snap of his hips, then another and another and it only seems to motivate him more. His thrusts are quick and exact over the spot he knows makes you squirm.
"Fuckin' idiot thinks he can take what's mine..." His hands take a hold of your ankles, spreading one heeled foot by each side of his head as he continues to mumble for himself. "Baby, all your moans're mine."
A chorus of 'yours' is all that your mouth can muster between the heavy breaths and constant gasp.
Your nails cling to the edge of the slippery counter, breathing in short bursts, interrupted by the weight of your thighs that pressed to your chest. Carmy’s panting fuels the growing fire in your cunt and you can't pull away from the fierce look behind his eyes.
The memory of your sweet laugh at that son of a bitch’s joke pushes his thrusts harder into you, making your breast bounce against your shaking legs. 
‘Not so funny now, huh?’ He sneers between breaths, eyes glistening as he leans down to run his tongue along your salty skin.
The extra weight of his torso pressing to your navel blurs your vision even more and you know it's only a matter of seconds before you're coming all around him. Your nails rake his scalp, catching on his hair and holding on tightly as your eyes water with need.
Carmy answers back by hoisting your leg up even higher, cock pounding inside at a new angle that makes you lose your breath, spine curling off the counter and against his sweaty chest. ‘Atta girl-’ He groans near your ear. ‘-you can take it.’ 
His words push you over the edge. Your orgasm rings through your ears and you're sure the high pitched moan leaving your throat will get you a few dirty looks from your neighbors in the morning, but you can't care less. From your haze, you feel Carmy give his all into a few more thrusts, before he goes rigid over you and a low groan shakes his body, making your cunt flutter around him.
He pulls out of you with a hiss, but his attention is captured by the milky white liquid slipping through your sensitive slit. You hiss too when his thumb graces over the area, pushing back in his release. There's a taunting grin over his face as he does it too and you can't help but mirror it over your own tired features.
That's when you notice it, the bright ember glow casting and dancing behind him, almost like flames...
"Shit!" You shout and quickly jump off the counter, turning him by the shoulder so he can see the stove and the pan over the open flame that's caught on fire.
"Fuck!" Carmy reacts quickly, pulling a fire extinguisher from under the sink and rapidly dousing the stove in the white foam.
You're both silent for a few seconds- contemplating the soot that's taken over the stove hood and part of the back wall- then your snicker breaks the silence and you're both falling into an euphoric fit of laughter that doesn't feel foreign to situation either.
**********
Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78
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Walk The Line.
Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.
roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.
word count - 2.5k
authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.
The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.
“A… party?”
“Does it say party, Carmen?”
“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”
You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.
“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”
You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.
“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.
You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”
“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”
“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”
You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.
“You really wanna go?”
“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”
“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”
“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”
“I don’t fuck recipes up.”
“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”
“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.
You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.
“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.
He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.
“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”
“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”
He huffs, but relents.
“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.
Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.
Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.
The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.
You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.
“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”
“Pat your head.”
“Real subtle.”
“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”
“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”
“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”
It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.
It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.
“Excuse me, sweetheart?”
You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”
You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.
“Thank you so much!”
You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.
“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”
You almost choke on your drink.
“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”
You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.
“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”
She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.
“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”
Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.
“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.
“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”
You smile, shaking your head.
“Is he here with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”
“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”
“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”
You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.
“You know where I am, if you need me.”
She nods, standing up carefully.
“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”
You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.
He holds out his hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Now he shakes his head.
“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”
“Ah. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he is.
“What do you do?”
As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.
Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.
“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”
You laugh, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”
“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.
You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.
“Hi, Carmen.”
You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.
“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.
“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”
“Haven’t we all.”
“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”
“Would you have noticed if I did?”
You spin around to face him properly now.
“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”
He huffs.
“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”
“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”
He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.
The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.
You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.
“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.
He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.
“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.
“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”
Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.
“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”
“Well then you better come quickly.”
He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.
“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”
It all clicks for you suddenly.
“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”
“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”
You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.
“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”
“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”
“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”
He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.
“Carm.”
“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”
You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.
“Say it.”
“Hmm?”
You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.
“Say. It.”
He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.
“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”
“So close, honey. Try again.”
You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.
“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”
“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.
“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”
“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”
You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.
You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.
“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”
You pull back, looking at him carefully.
“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”
You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.
“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”
He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.
“Yes, I did.”
“Do we have any left?”
“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.
“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”
“Will you make two extras?”
He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.
“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”
He smiles at you, all soft and melted.
“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”
You take hold of his hand, placing it there.
“Only sometimes.”
He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”
“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.
Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
Text
FX’s The Bear masterlist
requesting rules and masterlist
requests are CLOSED where to watch: FX and / or Hulu
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God's Plan
your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.
word count: 3.3k+
🎭 drama 🥺 hurt 🚫 no REAL comfort 🙊 general language and content warning 🍄 toxic relationship 🍑 reader with given nickname 2️⃣ written after season two
read here browse Clingy Baby collection here
part two: Two to Tango
the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
word count: 5.4k+
🎭 drama ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💔 small angst 🧸 small fluff ☠️ discussion of deceased family member 🙊 general language and content warning 💣 relationship angst 🍑 reader with given nickname 🔏 barely edited 2️⃣ written after season two
read here browse Clingy Baby collection here
Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant
a highly-recommended 303-page novel by Anne Tyler
behind closed doors, many families have secret turmoil. you experience your boyfriend's with him one fateful Christmas. or how Carmy finally made the decision to get away.
word count: 10.4k+
🍒 author's favorite 🎭 drama 💔 angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and small comfort ⚠️ spoilers 🐝 stand-alone 🙊 general language and content warning 🐍 toxic family / family angst 🥊 depiction of canon-typical physical violence and / or aggression 💛 requires maturity and caution ✝️ Lord's name in vain 🍑 reader with given nickname 🔏 barely edited 2️⃣ written after season two
read here
Opening Night and Open Hearts
opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.
word count: 9.8k+
🍑 reader with given nickname 💍 established relationship 🙊 general language and content warning ⚠️ spoilers 🤮 depiction of physical illness 🧸 fluff 💔 angst 💣 relationship angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🐍 depiction of toxic family 🔏 not edited 2️⃣ written after season two
read here
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Neon Sticky Notes
reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.
word count: 2.4k+
🧸 fluff 🥰 romance 🙊 probably general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two
read here
Affirmation King
attending university as a full-time student is hard, but your boyfriend makes some of the stress worth it.
word count: 3.1k+
🧸 fluff 🙊 general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two
read here
Campus Breakdown
after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.
word count: 1.6k+
🧸 fluff ❤️‍🩹 small hurt and comfort 💔 teeny tiny angst 🙊 general language warning 2️⃣ written after season two
read here
Silence
anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.
word count: 2.5k+
🎭 little drama (mostly tension) 💔 small angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 🧸 small fluff 💣 small relationship angst 💍 established relationship 🐝 stand-alone / oneshot 🙊 general language warning 🥂 alcohol consumption 🫠 small depiction of self-destructing / deprecating thoughts 🧠 discussion of mental health (anxiety)
read here
The Business That Pays You
not all disabilities are visible. being accosted for something out of your control angers the watchdog - your boyfriend, Carmy. plus the protective Carmy request.
word count: 4.5k+
note this is a disabled female reader! INVISIBLE disability!
🎭 drama 💔 little angst ❤️‍🩹 hurt and comfort 💍 established relationship 🐝 stand-alone / oneshot 🙊 general language warning 🩺 depiction of medical phenomenon / disability ✝️ Lord's name in vain
read here
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requesting rules and masterlist
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yellowharrington · 14 days
Text
all i really want (is you) -- carmy berzatto x reader
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pairing + fandom: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader, the bear fx
word count: 3k
warnings: smut! 18+, minors pls dni. afab!reader with pullable hair, no use of y/n. light daddy kink and dom/sub undertones. spanking, exhibitionism, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv + creampie, reader and carmy both drink alcohol. please let me know if i missed anything :)
a/n: this is depraved. thanks @wtfsteveharrington for reigniting my need to write about carmy lmao. title is from "all i really want is you" by the marias. please leave comments or reblogs if you liked it <3
divider by @cafekitsune
summary: carmy secretly books a lake-front hotel room in chicago for your anniversary.
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Carmy would be the first to admit he’s not very good at being romantic.
He forgets, lets things slip through the cracks, time and time again. He makes up for it, and you understand of course, but he’s working on it.
When your anniversary is approaching, he knows he has to make a plan. Busy with the restaurant, the menu, the money - all of it was overwhelming, but your not-so-subtle reminder of the date gave him the idea.
“So…” you had joined him in your shared kitchen, hand brushing through his curls as he slaved over a pan sauce he’d been perfecting.
“Yes?” He wasn’t annoyed - never annoyed, by you - but in the thralls of cooking, nonetheless.
“It’s our anniversary next weekend and I was thinking we’d try out that new restaurant you were talking about. You know… the one that’s suuuuuper hard to get a reservation at?” You smiled coyly as he held out the spoon with the hot liquid on it, wordlessly asking you for a taste-test. 
“Sounds good,” he had remarked, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and returning to the task at hand. “I’ll make a call.”
“Thank you, Carm,” you let your hands roam his clothed back as you feel the sauce between your lips and on your tongue. “That’s delicious.”
He hummed in response, as your hands drifted down to his sides and played at the hem of his t-shirt. “After our anniversary dinner I have a little… present for you.”
Before he could respond, you had slipped away to the bedroom, only flashing him a smirk before closing the door.
The weekend of your anniversary had approached quickly, and Carmy had actually managed to get everything in place. The reservation for dinner was set, his gift burning a hole in his pocket, and thoughts of what your gift to him may entail swirling around in his head. 
You walked out of your shared bedroom, adorning a black dress that hugged your body perfectly. Jewelry to match - done up just right, effortlessly perfect for the occasion. His hand came up to his mouth as he took you in, thanking whatever God above that brought you to him.
“Too much?” You asked, toying with your hair in the mirror and correcting the edge of your lipstick. 
“No,” Carmy answered, coming up behind you in the mirror and admiring your form. “Perfect.”
You felt yourself blush as he took your hand and held it to his lips, kissing your knuckles and pulling you into him. “Ready?” 
~
Dinner came and passed, shared glasses of wine between the two of you as you reminisced about past times together. Carmy had always been shy, but easy to talk to, especially when he had some time to open up. You gave him space to do that - he’d never felt more comfortable with anybody before, somebody he trusted with everything. You listened, told him what he needed to hear when he needed to hear it, and kept him in check all while supporting him from the sidelines and meshing perfectly into his insane life. He was eternally grateful for finding you.
He slides a small box across the table at dinner, and when you open it up, you gasp at what’s inside. A dainty necklace, a glossy “C” hanging on the end of it, where it would sit against your chest. 
You let his deft fingers close the tiny clasp behind your neck, the pendant hanging perfectly, glimmering in the amber candlelight of the restaurant. “You’re gonna make me cry,” you laugh through a watery smile, Carmy’s hand crossing the table to slide into yours. Warm skin against warm skin, you smile at his small display of affection, tilting your glass towards him as he clinked it with yours. 
You notice something might be up when you get back into his car, and he doesn’t take the turn off back to your shared apartment. Instead, he veers off into another lane, holding onto your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze for encouragement. 
You’re down by the water now, making a confused expression at your surroundings. City lights around you, the bustling of other people on dates or nights out, as Carmy pulls into the parking lot of a hotel. 
“What are we doing here?” You look at the people stepping into the hotel lobby, some dressed in clothing that was probably more than your rent. He wordlessly turns off his car and exits through the driver’s side, saying something to the valet before grabbing a bag out of the back seat and rounding back to your side. He opens the door for you and takes your hand, before leading you through the doors and into the grand front lobby.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above as he took your hand and lead you to the front desk, a confused scowl still across your features. The person at the front desk waved you two over, typing something into the computer. “Good evening. Checking in?”
Carmy nods, handing over his ID and credit card before smiling down at you.
“We’re checking in?”
“Happy Anniversary.”
You have to make sure your mouth isn’t hanging open, as Carmy’s coy smile plays along his lips. 
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you whisper to him, feeling heat spread across your cheeks as you take in your surroundings. Your hand slips into his as you press your cheek to his jacketed shoulder. “Let me show you to your room.”
An elevator ride to the top floor has you antsy, as the attendant opens the door for you to your room. She reveals a lake-front room, with views of the harbour, twinkling lights in the distance reflecting onto the massive floor-to-ceiling window. “Is it to your liking, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto?”
A blush runs up your cheeks as the insinuation. Carmy didn’t correct her, just slipped her a tip and assured her the room was perfect. The door clicked politely behind you as you stepped into the room and kicked off your shoes. You turned around to meet Carmy’s eyes as his expression softened, your hands coming up to cup his face.
“I can’t believe you did this.” You’re breathless, still taking in this grand gesture he’d somehow planned completely behind your back.
“You deserve it,” he said simply, tongue darting between his lips as a strong hand came to overlap yours. 
~
The sun had gone down now, navy sky further illuminating the lights below. Rain slacked against the window, simultaneously hard and soft, the glow of the bedside lamps casting shadows on the walls as you got yourself settled. Carmy had abandoned his jacket and tie, leaving him in a crisp white button-up shirt and black slacks. He was laid back on the bed, one hand behind his head, taking some time to relax.
You dipped into the bathroom, smoothing out your hair and checking your makeup in the mirror. You undid the back of your dress and let it slip down your body into a pool on the tile, revealing the gift you’d picked out for Carmy. A black lace set - cupping your breasts perfectly. Lace panties to match, connected to stockings that came high up on your thighs. 
You stepped out, stocking-clad feet soft against the carpet. Carmy immediately notices, eyes blown wide as he sits up to take you in. 
“Thought you might want your gift now,” you sauntered towards him and met him at the end of the bed, his thighs spread for you to fit between them. His hands immediately came up to touch - to confirm you were real, mostly - because his brain was telling him you weren’t.
You looked down at him, cupping his chin with your hand and the other coming down to his shoulder. Pushing down on him gently, his back hit the mattress, wild eyes not moving off of you for even a second. 
You move to straddle his lap, fingers coming down to start unfurling the buttons on his shirt, revealing the soft skin of his chest. Carmy’s rough, calloused fingertips pressed into the plush skin of your hips, eyes wanting to flutter closed but being too entranced by the sight before him to look away. 
His fiery eyes fell to the swell of your breasts, hands coming up to press and squeeze at the skin there, thumbs ghosting over your hard nipples. You felt your back arch, pressing against his palms, wanting more, as much of him as you could get. 
Carmy’s hands slid down your body to find your clothed core, eliciting a small moan from your lips. You rutted into his hand slightly, feeling his skilful fingers start to work at you over the lace.
You weren’t expecting to give him the upper hand, but it was hard not to submit to his touch - wholly his, looking down at him but still feeling as though he had all the power.
He was sitting up now, pushing your panties to the side and feeling the slick between your folds, maintaining eye contact with you through it all. “Carm,” you panted, strained, embarrassed to be coming apart for him already.
As if he knew, he pulled away, wordlessly bringing his fingers up to your lips. You wrapped your mouth around them, letting your tongue dart between the digits as he wet them with your spit.
“Pretty girl,” he muttered, only loud enough for you to hear, earnest eyes looking up at you, fuzzy around the edges with lust. “My pretty slut, aren’t you?”
“Just for you,” you replied, a smirk on the corner of your lip as he swiftly grabbed your hips and flipped you to have your back on the soft hotel comforter.
He stood before you, giving you a chance to unbutton the rest of his shirt and undo his dress pants, his hand now cradling your chin. You pushed his slacks to the floor, rubbing his thick cock over the fabric of his black boxers. His hand came down to pet your hair, taking a fistful of it at the nape and pulling it back to reveal your shiny lips and eager eyes to him. The pendant he purchased for you glinted in the light.
“Tell me how bad you want it.”
His firm hand on the back of your neck was enough to make your cunt weep, even without his touch. “Please, I need your cock. Please.”
“Good girl. Sit up, all fours.”
You quickly found yourself on your knees on the soft bed, as he let his cock free. He pumped it a few times, angling your mouth with his grip to allow it to drop open. He pressed forward, slipping in between your wet lips and eliciting a carnal groan from his throat. You let yourself submit to his face-fucking, using your mouth to get himself off, leaking tip pressing against the back of your throat. You gagged around him, throat constricting, which only emboldened him to continue. Spit escaped the corners of your lips as you took him in, swallowing him down, all while looking up and batting your long lashes at him. 
“Taking it so good,” he remarked, with a particularly long thrust into your throat. Leaning forward, his broad hand found a fistful of your ass, squeezing it before planting a firm spank. A yelp escaped your lips, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the force of him in your throat.  
He pulled you off, cock bobbing between his legs before he smeared the spit that had collected all over your plush lips. “So fucking good for me, baby.”
You smiled triumphantly as he leaned down to kiss you sloppily, mixing your spit with his and taking the time to undo your bra and throw it to the ground. 
You didn’t even mind when he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the stockings and panties off to meet your bra on the floor, surely ripping them. His hands pushed your thighs apart, wet pussy on full display as he dove right in, not giving you even a second to catch your breath.
“Fu-uck,” your voice was hoarse and jagged, his warm tongue feeling like it was everywhere. You squirmed beneath his strong squeeze, forcing your back off the mattress as he licked a broad stripe up your centre and flashed his eyes up at you.
Your eyes were trained on his movements, knowing better than to close them. Your hand came down to his sandy curls, feeling your breath quicken as he suckled on your clit, moving his jaw in such a way that was sending an electrifying pulse up your spine.
He moved one hand from your thigh to circle your entrance with his middle finger, enjoying the way you shuddered at the feeling. “Please,” you begged, watching as he detached his tongue from your clit to simply play with your hole. “Please, I need you inside of me.”
His lips pursed as he waited for you to understand why he wasn’t proceeding. A knowing glance, a sob from you as he teased you. “Are you talking to me? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
“Please, daddy. Please fuck me with your fingers.”
“That’s better.” He plunged into you, thick finger curling inside as you let out a choked sob, your cunt pulsing around him as he moved in and out. His lips attached to your clit once again, sucking and grinding his tongue into you, other hand coming up along your stomach to grab your tit and pinch your nipple.
You rasped his name, throat raw from his previous fucking, letting it pour out of your lips over and over. He lapped at you - feeling every quiver from your pussy and shake of your legs as he continued at a bruising pace, not letting up no matter how much you squirmed beneath him. Still pushing you into the mattress, his own cock rutting against the sheets and growing harder every second that his mouth is on you.
A white-hot feeling spread across the back of your thighs, back arched as you tugged on his hair and met his gaze. He rode out your high with you, letting you gush around his fingers and feeling waves of pleasure rise and fall as your breath steadied. Your chest heaving, sticky with sweat, mascara smeared at the edges as you laid back, feeling Carmy’s fingers pull out and his mouth detach from you.
He found himself between your thighs once more, rock-hard cock sliding between your slick folds to tease your overly sensitive clit. He kissed you, a hunger within him, arms coming up under you to hold you as close as possible. Bare skin against bare skin, his mouth sucking in your bottom lip and biting down slightly, eliciting a smile from you and a depraved moan from your lips.
You reached down between your two bodies and slipped his cock into your ready pussy, swallowing him inside of you and hearing his gasp against your lips at the friction. A shameless grunt as his hips drove into you relentlessly, his curls falling into your face as your head tipped back, letting his mouth attach to the side of your throat and suck a bruise into the soft skin beneath your ear. Your hands found the strong muscles of his back, digging them into his skin and finding your legs wrapping around his middle.
An assaulting pace, languidly in and out of you as you met his eyes, pure lust and fire behind them. You could see the idea flash across his eyes.
He pulled out of you gingerly, as you winced at the loss of contact. He pulled you up with him, towards the windows of the hotel room.
He lightly pushed you against the cold glass, earning a sinful moan from your lips as he took your hands hostage behind your back. The rain still pelted down outside, a symphony against your hard and fast breath.
“Why don’t you show all those people how you like to get fucked, huh? Show them what a slut you are?”
A devilish smile on your lips was met with your cheek against the glass, a broad palm on the opposite side of your face, as his cock slid back into your pussy with ease. Your ass was pushed out for him to land a firm slap on it once again, picking up his pace. His hand came around to push your legs apart, playing with your clit and drawing you close once again, as he released your hands to leave prints on the glass.
“Fill me up, please daddy,” you moaned, letting your head fall slack. “I want you to cum so fucking deep inside of me, fuck,” — another spank, paired with jagged thrusts as Carmy got closer to finishing — “fuck me like you own me, baby.”
“I do own you,” he growled, forehead pressed against your shoulder blades as he felt your pussy clench around him. “Cum baby, cum with all those people fucking watching you.” 
“You own me Carmen, I’m yours.” you chanted, turning around to meet his eyes. You watched his eyes glaze over and jaw hang open as his thrusts slowed, making a mess of your pussy as he came deep inside of you.
Your second orgasm followed soon after, cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around him. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you stepped away from the glass, legs unstable as a furious warmth came up over your cheeks.
After getting cleaned up together in the bathroom, he flicked off the light as you turned towards the window. His body pressed up against yours, arm secured around your waist as he peppered kisses along your neck and shoulders, musing about how beautiful you are.
“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, another kiss to the outer shell of your ear that made a shiver go up your spine. “I love you more than anything.”
You curled into him and listened to the relaxing rain, his steadying breath and strong arm lulling you safely to sleep.
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