Carmy Berzatto Smut - Tumblr Posts

NSFW alphabet : carmen berzatto

Content: fem reader, pure filth, size kink (easily skippable), daddy kink (easily skippable), dom/sub dynamics,

Word count: 5605

A/N: This is really filthy. I got a bit carried away as you can tell by the word count. Enjoy ! <<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He’s a clinger. Carmy gets needy and touchy after sex, so he’s not going to leave your side. After normal sex, he lays on top of you for awhile because he loves the closeness of the physical contact. He’s pressing kisses all over your neck and mumbling how much he loves you over and over again. When it’s finally time to get up, he’s bringing a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean up between your legs. He’s so sweet and tender in moments like this, diligent in cleaning up the cum from your thighs. 

After a dom/sub type of scene, Carmy takes such good care of you. Beforehand he stashes everything he needs beside the bed so he doesn’t have to leave you afterwards. He stores the supplies in a wicker bin: pH balanced sensitive skin-safe wipes, a bottle of water, protein bars and other snacks (i.e chocolate), soothing ointment, your favorite t-shirt of his, hair ties, and even one of those instant ice packs if you need it. 

If you’re in that floaty place, he narrates every single thing he’s doing. Even though you can’t speak, he still wants to make sure you’re aware of what he’s doing before he does it.

“Okay, baby I’mma put your hair up into a messy bun to get it off your neck.”

“It’s going to be a little bit cold at first but I’m using these wipes to clean up between your legs.”

“I’m going to roll you over so I can take care of your bottom, and put some ointment on for you. I’ve already got a pillow to support your stomach.”

Carmy is so gentle while he takes care of you. It’s his favorite part of a scene, not getting off, but tending to you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to try and sit up so you can take some sips of water. Can you do that for me?” 

You’re stubborn and just wanna fall asleep in that floaty place so Carmen literally has to prop you up with pillows and force a straw between your lips. 

“Three big sips—there we go. Atta girl, good job.”

The best part of aftercare is saved for last, cuddling. Carmy lays you on top of his chest so you’re not laying on your raw backside, and softly pets your hair until you fall asleep. 

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes his hands. They do everything for him in the kitchen. They’re skilled and precise. Carmy is not the type of guy to be really into parts of his body, but his hands are alright. 

Now for you, he genuinely loves all of your body. Your face, your eyes, everything. However, he’s a major boob guy. He likes them in all sizes. He just loves tits (peep the mommy issues). One of his favorite parts of sex is getting to leave bite marks all over your chest. Send him a nude with your tits in it? Bye! He’s a goner. 

Thighs come in close second. He grips your thighs so hard during sex that sometimes you can make out small finger sized bruises in the mirror afterwards. Much like your boobs, he loves to mark up your thighs with hickies. He knows that he’s the only one that gets to see those marks so he leaves a bunch. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s obsessed with cumming inside of you. The sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt for the first time permanently rewires his brain. He’s convinced there’s no better feeling that filling you up with his cum. He’s nasty about it too, pressing any that has dripped out of you back into your cunt with his fingers. 

“Gotta keep you nice and filled up for me. I don’t want anything to go to waste. Here—“ He reaches for a pillow and lifts up your hips, placing it under your back. “There we go. Now it can’t spill out.” 

If he can’t cum inside of you, he cums on your stomach. The thing about Carmy is that he cums a lot, like the volume is massive. When he cums on your stomach, you’re covered in him. He’ll be fisting his cock for a good twenty seconds before the spurts of cum finally slow down. It’s all over you, dripping off of your hips onto the sheets. The first thing Carmy does is reach over for his phone on the bedside table. He takes a picture of you from the neck down, completely painted with white. The picture immediately goes into his locked camera folder. 

Finally, Carmy would rather cum in your mouth than on your face. He doesn’t want to get any in your eye. He’s truly a sweetheart (sometimes). Once, you stuck out your tongue full of cum for him, and his hard on came right back. His body was ready to go again after seeing his cum drip off of your tongue, down your neck, and into your cleavage. He’s a simple man at heart.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really wants to try shibari with you, like really bad. He’s been researching heavily into it, about all of the knots and the types of rope. He doesn’t want to get into serious stuff like suspension, but he wants to cover your body in pretty and elaborate knots. Carmy’s mainly focused on the types of shibari that restrains your arms behind your back, making your chest jut out. He wants to surround your breasts with intricate knots. He might mess around with some patterns on your hips and thighs, but he’d rather tie up your arms, not your legs.  

He’s drawn to shibari because it’s almost mixing art intimacy ( because shibari doesn’t have to involve sex or pleasure). It’s a time that he can spend getting close to you while you’re letting go and trusting him completely. The tying up process isn’t short; it can take awhile. He thinks it would make your relationship stronger, and also let him be dominate in a way that’s different from just straight up sex. 

It will take him a very very long time to ever bring it up to you, though. He doesn’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable. He understands how much control a person is giving up when someone restrains them. 

In all seriousness, you probably ask him about it after you see a tab open on his laptop. He’s already left for work for the day and forgot to close out the tab. You grab his laptop, wanting to do the daily mini, and when you open it up, you’re met with an in depth rope tying tutorial. 

You decide to tread carefully on the topic when he gets home from work that day, since it seems like he was keeping it a secret. Once he’s gotten a shower, Carmy curls up with you on the couch to watch a little tv before going to bed. 

“I saw something interesting today, Carm.”

“Yeah? What might that be, baby?”

“Well, I was using your laptop to do the daily mini like I always do, and I saw a tab pulled up. Something to do with ropes?” Carmy instantly tenses up like he’s entered freeze mode. 

“Oh—uh, uhm. Sorry you’re probably like—freaked out now and—“ Carmy says quickly, without taking a breath. He’s on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“Baby, baby. Calm down. You’re all good. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” You start to comb through his hair with your fingers, massaging at his scalp in a way that relaxes him. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, yeah?” 

He does just that, explaining shibari and all the research he’s done into it. Carmy’s a bit surprised when you agree to it without any hesitation. 

“You know you don’t have do to this for me. I’m not going to be upset if you say no.”

“I trust you, Carmen. I love you and I know you’ll take care of me and keep me safe. If I don’t like it I’ll be honest with you.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

This one is going to heavily depend on when you get into a relationship with Carmy. When he’s newly in New York, trying to become the greatest chef of all time? He’s horribly inexperienced. He barely knows how to interact with the opposite sex without getting red in the face. However, he’s eager to learn! He might not know exactly what he’s doing in the moment with you, but he wants you to feel good. He’s determined to make you orgasm. He asks what feels good and what doesn’t feel good. Carmy’s not afraid to ask you questions during sex either.  

Now if you meet him after he’s back in Chicago, he has more experience under his belt. New York and all of the places he traveled to during those years away from home gave him opportunities to become more confident with sex. Although, he still gets nervous about it, especially when he’s sleeping with someone for the first time. The awkwardness hasn’t gone away completely. 

At this point in your relationship with Carmy, he knows what he’s doing. He pays attention to your body and the way you react to his touch. Carmy learns what you like before you even have the chance to tell him. Every touch of his hands is purposeful to bring you pleasure. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Missionary. No question about it. He wants to be able to look at you while he fucks you. He loves the closeness of the position, getting to feel your legs wrapped around his waist. It’s so intimate, and Carmy craves that intimacy. His favorite part of missionary is when you both are so close to the edge, with your foreheads resting against each other. He gets to look in your eyes and praise you. “You’re so pretty. So fucking gorgeous—fuck, baby.” 

“Taking me so well— always take me so well.” “Love you, love you, love you so much.” 

Oh, and his other favorite part about missionary is getting to kiss you. He fucking loves kissing you during sex. Sure, it’s messy, with teeth and lips clashing together half the time, but he cannot get enough of your mouth. That moment when you have to break the kiss to moan out because of how good he feels inside of you is what he loves about kissing you in missionary. 

Carmy also enjoys anything that lets him see your face. With your legs over each of his shoulders, he’s found he can hit even deeper inside of you. Don’t worry, he puts a small pillow underneath the small of your back to make you comfortable. The angle makes your eyes roll back. 

If he’s honest with himself he fucking loves the position where he practically forces your thighs to meet your chest. His cock his so fucking deep inside of you he just has to make comments about it. “That too deep? Yeah? Can you feel me in your stomach?” Oh, and when he starts pressing his hand on your lower stomach so you can feel him moving in and out of you? The sensation is almost too much. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

This is Carmen Berzatto here. He’s so serious about everything, and that applies to sex, too. He’s just not the type to joke around during sex. He craves the intimacy of sex and doesn’t want to make light of the connection. That doesn’t mean sex with Carmy is overly serious. More so that he would rather not incorporate humor into sex. 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carmy is so neat and meticulous. He literally cuts pieces of tape with a knife so it has a clean edge. With all things considered, he keeps it neat downstairs. Definitely not bald, but he trims up frequently. He cannot stand it when it’s crazy down there. 

For his partner? He does not give a fuck about the grooming of down there. Not one single bit. Do whatever you want and he will still be a happy man. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

So intimate. Genuinely, he’s so romantic. Carmy’s kissing all over your body, praising every inch of your skin. It’s honestly jarring at first how intimate and intense he can be in the bedroom. Carmy puts his all into sex, much like he puts his all into the kitchen. He holds you so close the entire time. If you’re riding him on the couch? Yeah, he’s got both arms wrapped around you so your chest is pressed to his. This lets him make eye contact if he wants, or lets him moan into the crook of your neck. Carmy literally wants as much of his skin touching yours as possible during sex. Even if he has you on your stomach, he’s not going to settle for just doggy style because there’s not enough contact. Instead he’s leaning over you holding you up so your back presses against his chest. He sloppily kisses your shoulders and the back of your neck from this position. 

Let’s talk about eye contact—he’s staring right through you. He’s just so observant and doesn’t want to miss a single expression you make. God, the look in his eyes during sex practically puts you under a spell. He looks down at you through the bottom of his eyes with blown out pupils. 

So yeah Carmy makes sex extremely intimate every time without fail. 

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Most of the time when Carmy jacks off it’s all about efficiency. He’s not trying to take time out of his day to get off. He’s the type to get off in the shower after work. It’s quick and rough, but he knows how to get himself off fast. 

Now, when you first come into his life? His routine changes a bit. Before you two start dating, Carmy masturbates to the idea of you. He honestly hates himself a bit for it, but it happens on accident. 

He hops out of the shower after work, puts on a pair of boxer briefs, and sits down on his couch. He didn’t touch himself in the shower, wanting to build up the tension a little bit.

When Carmy starts touching himself, his hands move slowly. Recently, he’s learned how much he likes teasing himself. So, he palms over his covered length, applying the right amount of pressure to make his hips twitch. Without even realizing it, Carmy’s mind wanders to you. 

You’ve been plaguing his mind all week long in the kitchen. Sydney assigned your prep to be right next to his, and he hasn’t been able to keep his mind off of you. In the kitchen, he keeps getting distracted by your pretty smile, and by the little jokes you make during the lunch rush. 

Gradually, the hand steadily pressing down on his hard length isn’t his own anymore. Instead he pictures your hand as the one working on him; that delicate, dainty hand of yours he’s watched prep food all week. 

Carmy gives up on teasing himself once the images of you pop into his head. He hastily pushes down his boxers to his thighs. The tip of his cock leaks with precum, dripping onto his length. Carmy’s head falls back in a choked moan when he finally grips himself. His heart races as he gently strokes his cock. It’s much different from his usual fast pace, but he’s trying to picture how you would do it; on how your hands would be so delicate compared to his callused ones. Carmy wonders if you would tease him, or if you would be dead set on bringing him to orgasm quickly. 

It’s a slippery slope when Carmen starts to picture you taking his cock into your mouth. His hand starts to pump faster as the image grows more vivid in his mind. He’s lost the gentleness of his movements, but he doesn’t care. The only thing he cares about is the vision of you on your knees in front of him. Your lips are swollen as they stretch around his cock. He thinks about the sounds you would make—how you would moan with his dick taking up your mouth. Spit would dribble from your lips onto your chin as you bob your head on his length. What brings him to the edge, though, is the idea of fucking your face. He would hold your head delicately in his hands, but thrust with his hips deep into your throat. Tears would slip from your eyes as he shoves you all the way down so your nose meets the skin above his dick. 

Carmy cums hard all over his stomach, wishing it was your throat instead. He swears he blacks out for a second from the pleasure. When the post orgasm clarity hits, he hastily cleans himself up. Carmy tells himself he won’t do it again, picture you while he’s masturbating, but he knows that’s a load of bullshit. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding— Carmy and breeding go together like peanut butter and jelly. It’s why he’s always cumming inside of you. He wants to show everyone your his, and what’s a better way than knocking you up with his kid? He’s low key obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. 

Overstimulation— Carmy’s a soft dom. He wants to make you cum over and over and over again before he even thinks about orgasming. His goal is for your head to be spinning by the end of it. 

Spanking— Carmy’s into spanking, okay? However, before he even thinks about doing it in the bedroom he talks to you about it multiple times at length. He clarifies a safe word with you and establishes your limits. You do the same thing with him because safe words and boundaries go both ways! Normally, he’s only going to spank you as a punishment for something. The way you whimper and moan in his lap as he spanks you makes him so hard. It honestly gives Carmy a rush to see you dripping from his hand coming down on your ass. 

Size kink— It’s definitely arises from insecurities about his height, let’s be honest here. Regardless of your height though, Carmy just likes feeling that he’s bigger than you. It’s why he’s so ripped. No matter how tall you are he’s got enough muscle to hold you down in bed. Now, if you are shorter than him, even better. 

The size kink appears in other ways other than just pure body size. For one, it drives him crazy how much smaller your hands are compared to his. Seeing your dainty hand wrapped around his cock drives Carmy up the wall. You can barely wrap your fingers all the way around his length. 

He loves to watch as your cunt takes his fingers. They’re so much wider and longer than your own, so he goes slow. 

Finally, his size kink comes into play most when he’s fucking you. He’s soothing you while he works his cock into your cunt. Once he’s all the way in, he can’t help but point out of the sight of him inside of you. “Look. You see that?” Carmy asks while drawing your attention to the small bulge in you stomach, right above your mound. It’s hard to see when he’s not moving, so he lightly thrusts in deeper so the bulge moves. 

“F-fuck, yeah— I can see that,” you whine in response. Carmy’s hand moves over the bulge and he presses down, hard, before he starts rolling his hips into you at a quick pace. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock like this. I’m surprised it even fit, baby. Taking me so fucking well.”

Praise— He loves giving praise and being praised. He’s calling you everything. His love, his good girl, his princess, his baby. He’s telling you how good you’re doing for him, and how perfect you are for him. 

“Made for me. You know that? Fucking perfect.”

“You’re so pretty. My pretty girl.” 

“I love you so much. Fuck—you feel so good, squeezing me like that—shit.”

And you offer praise back in return because goodness knows Carmy needs to hear it after all those years being insulted in the kitchen. 

“You’re so pretty, too. You make me feel so good, Carmy.”

“Love these muscles,” you say while feeling his abs as he thrusts into you. “So hot how strong you are, baby.” Those types of comments from you make his brain short circuit. 

Daddy kink— Okay, nothing turns him on more than being called daddy. It just, does something to his brain. A pretty girl like you? Calling him daddy? Begging him to fuck you? Yeah, he’s close to cumming in his pants from that. It’s just the soft dom thing he has going for him. He wants to take care of you in every way possible, make you feel good, and provide for you. 

“Please daddy, need you,” you beg. 

“I got you sweet girl. Daddy’s going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

L= Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers a good old mattress. It’s basic but it’s private and comfortable. Carmy also likes fucking on a couch, too. Mainly because if he’s started getting hot and heavy on a couch, he’d rather fuck you there than carry you to the bedroom. He’s all about efficiency!

Part of him enjoys fucking at the restaurant. Not all the time, though, but there’s something about fucking you in a locked office that really gets him going. He has to keep his palm clasped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Whenever he has sex with you at the restaurant, it’s always fast, rough, and passionate. Usually, it’s to release stress, but even if it’s not, you’re going to have trouble walking straight afterwards. Richie makes an all knowing face when you walk out of the office, and heat builds up in your cheeks as you get out of the front doors as fast as possible. 

Oh, and Carmy loves to get on his knees and eat you out while you’re sitting on the kitchen counter at his apartment. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything. Anything at all. When he’s into someone, he’s into them. Your touch alone can be enough to turn him on. 

With that being said, there are some specific things that drive Carmy crazy. For one, you wearing his clothes. 

One time you walked into the Bear before opening hours wearing one of his classic white t-shirts. He thought he was about to have a brain aneurysm seeing you in his clothes. The way the fabric draped over your body— yeah he had to take you back into the office as soon as you walked into the restaurant. 

Speaking of clothes, dresses and skirts are his favorite articles of clothing on you. He thinks that you look so very pretty in them, and he also likes the easy access. 

As mentioned in K, if you whisper anything in his ear involving the word “daddy”, he’s dragging you off somewhere immediately. 

Thinking about this specifically at some kind of chefs’ gala. Carmen’s been in a circle of chefs from around the area talking for what feels like hours, now. All you want to do right now is go home. You make your way up to Carmy, and balance on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you going to be done soon, daddy? I’d rather go home and spend time with you.”

You can see the way Carmy’s hands tighten around the glass in his hand before he speaks to the people around him. “If you’ll excuse me, folks. My girl isn’t feeling well so I’m going to take her home. Glad to have gotten to talk to you all.”

Yeah, Carmy drives to the darkest part of the parking lot and tells you to get into the back seat. He can’t wait until he gets home to fuck your brains out. 

N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

Anything that would actually hurt you. He limits stuff like spanking to just his hand. He refused to use anything else for impact play. He won’t do CNC ever. Like never ever. 

Carmy also won’t be a full on sub himself. He loves control, and needs to be in control to have a good time. The idea of losing control and being tied up is enough to send him into a panic attack.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Carmy loves eating pussy. He wants to stay in between your legs all day long. He won’t shut up about how good you taste. “So good, baby. Wanna taste some?” He’ll say before pressing a soaking wet finger to your lips. 

There’s so much to say about munch Carmen. He’s so fucking good at it, too. He alternates between licking and sucking at your clit in a way that makes your vision go blurry. He knows enough about your anatomy to pull back the hood with his thumb so he can suck right on the exposed bud. The first time he does it, you swear stars explode in your field of vision. 

He just LOVES eating you out! He gets to look up at you with those big blue eyes as you writhe against his face in pleasure. It makes him feel useful and needed, if he’s being honest. He could probably cum just from eating you out. The feeling of your fingers tugging in his hair, the sounds of your cries in his ears, and the pressure of your thighs closing around his head makes Carmy moan into your cunt like a madman. 

So yeah Carmy prefers to give head, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop you from blowing him. He tends to not last as long, though. Your warm mouth around him, sucking and licking at his tip. The way your take him all the way back in your throat. Fuck— the feeling of you gagging around him as his cock hits the back of your throat. He’s praising you the entire time, too. 

“Look at you—fuck. Taking my cock in that pretty mouth of yours so well.”

“So good, baby. So fucking good with your mouth—holy shit.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

The answer is all of the above. Most of the time he prefers to take his time with you because he wants to savor the moment with you. Carmy’s favorite way to fuck you is slow and deep. He wants you to feel him all the way in your stomach. If he’s in a mood, however, he’s all for being fast and rough. Ultimately his pace is going to be whatever gets you off the best. 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t his favorite thing ever, but he has them often. He hates how busy his work is purely because it prevents him from having  sex with you as often and as long as he would like to. Quickies usually happen at the restaurant in his office. That’s where a fast and rough pace comes into play, because there’s one goal in mind; Get off, and get off fast before someone notices. If there’s just way too many people in the restaurant, he’s not opposed to taking you in the backseat of his car for a quick fuck. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he’s for sure open to experimenting in the bedroom. He will try just about anything that you’re willing to try. 

As for risks, he’s down to take calculated risks. However, once he fucked you in the restaurant bathroom while the place was still the beef because the office didn’t have a lock (He fixed that during the remodel). It was all going great until Fak started banging on the door shouting that he was about to piss himself. Real mood killer. Now, Carmy is more careful about the risks he takes. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Carmy can last for quite awhile. He has so much pent up energy that he can keep going and going. He won’t admit it, but he one hundred percent thinks about his time at Noma to keep himself from cumming. He only has to do it sometimes, though. 

Additionally, Carmy is a two rounds max kind of a guy. There’s just only so many times that he can cum before he’s going to pass out from exhaustion. Remember, he did fall asleep on a prep table that one time. 

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Carmy doesn’t haven’t any toys for himself. His hand has always done the job, and he saw no reason to get something else. 

With you, he’ll use a toy from time to time, but it’s rare. He’d much rather make you squirm with his own hand, or his mouth than with a toy. It gives him a sense of pride when he’s made you shake without using anything other than his own body. 

Now, I can see him buying you a really expensive vibration to use while he’s away on trips. As long as you face time him when you use it so he can get off too, of course. 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Carmen is such a fucking tease. He loves teasing you in and out of the bedroom with his words. When it comes to in the bedroom, half of the fun for him is teasing. He’s running the head of his cock through your folds mumbling stuff like: 

“Want me to put it in, baby? I can feel how wet you are right now.”

“C’mon. You gotta say it with your words. I don’t know what you want unless you tell me, honey.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans a lot into your neck. Curses a bunch too, like strings of curse words. Carmen can get pretty loud if he’s feeling really good. When he’s close to cumming, Carmen’s voice degrades into a whine that makes you dig your nails into his back to hear it again. As it reaches that point, he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds. “N-need you to cum. Please cum for me, baby. Need to f-feel you cum around my cock.”

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

One word. Choking. Carmy loves choking. He’s on top of you and wraps his hand around your throat just enough to cut off the blood circulation for half a second. You go absolutely crazy when his hand wraps around your throat because the euphoria is so intense. It’s like you’re on cloud nine. 

Sometimes when he’s fucking you from behind he wraps his bicep around your neck to have the same affect on you. 

Alternatively, Carmen realizes that he also enjoys being choked, at least a little bit. It happens naturally when you're on top riding him. His head falls back and exposes his neck, so you just reach forward and squeeze a little. Carmy’s eyes pop wide open as he feels the blood rush to his head. It’s so blissful he’s just laying with his head thrown back and his mouth open as you release the pressure. 

“Does that feel good for you, too?” you ask. Carmy can’t even speak, he just nods dumbly at your question. “That’s why I love it so much when you do it to me, Carm.” When you squeeze again, he’s spilling into you with a choked groan. 

X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His cock is so fucking thick oh my god. It’s a bit  longer than average length wise, but the girth is massive. You’re not even sure you can take it when he pulls his cock out for the first time. He has to fuck you so slow the first time you have sex because the stretch is just so much. He spends at least the first five minutes inside of you staying completely still to let you adjust to his size. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s down to have sex whenever and wherever (as long as it’s private). Carmy feels like he doesn’t fuck you enough as is, which is why you two are increasingly having quickies in his office as his time becomes more consumed by the Bear. 

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Carmy is very much awake up until the point he finishes your aftercare. Meanwhile the second you cum you’re fighting your eyelids begging Carmy to cuddle you to sleep. He has a job to do, though, he needs to clean you up, and carry you to the bathroom so you don’t get a UTI. Once he’s finished with after care he’s out like a light with you tucked in his arms, resting on his chest. 

hiiiii🌻 if you haven’t already, will you do a headcanon for carmy? 🥺

Carmy Berzatto Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

ohh sweet carmy. I definitely romanticise him, because we've seen on the show he can be a nightmare in relationships. so, take these with a pinch of salt. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- Never gets tired of cooking for you. You feel bad, sometimes, when he offers to cook even after he's been at work all day. He reassures you one evening that he loves cooking for you, because it's different. There's no pressure. He can relax, and do what he loves most for the person he loves most.

- Terrible at DIY. The two of you always end up crying with laughter when you try and get a job done, because it always inevitably goes wrong. You're both determined to do it yourselves, though. You'll never call a guy.

- He's a commitmentphobe. Majorly. I think it'd be really hard work to get Carmy to ever really commit himself to you. It'd take time, and a hell of a lot of patience. But, once he does, he's fiercely loyal. He'd do anything for you, no hesitation.

- Carmy's awful at communicating. He's not good at processing his emotions, and ends up yelling. The first time you had an argument, you didn't yell once, which was a real turning point for him. You talked it out, and fixed the issue. From that moment on, he tries. He's not perfect, but he tries.

- Hates seeing you cry. It's his least favourite thing in the world. The minute you cry, his bottom lip is quivering, lump in his throat forming. You cry, he cries.

- Loves it when you pamper him. Happily sits with you while you apply your face mask, asks one day if you'll put some on him. You cuddle on the couch, wine in hand, terrible reality show on the TV. You do your skincare routine, and then do it on him too.

- Only trusts you to cut his hair. You don't have much experience, but you figure it out pretty quickly. He now refuses to go to a salon, begging you to do it instead. In the bathroom, stood between his legs, you trim his hair carefully, trying to ignore the way he's gazing up at you with those big blue eyes.

and now onto the sexy stuff...

- Doesn't stop talking during sex. He can't shut his mouth. He's got his lips pressed to your ear, murmuring the filthiest things you've ever heard.

- Lives to praise you. Sure, he'll degrade you if you want, but he loves getting to tell you how pretty you are, how perfect you look like this, how you're such a good girl for him.

- Loooves cowgirl. Loves getting to sit there all smug as you're on top of him. It's his favourite view. His favourite thing to do is sit up so you're chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you. Nothing beats it.

- Will fuck you anywhere. Kitchen counter, dining table, bathroom vanity, washing machine. Can and will bend you over the nearest surface. He's not a patient man.

- Gets off on eating you out. He's an expert in fine dining, after all. Loves when you grab his hair, tugging and pulling. He basically works himself to the edge as he laps at you. Has definitely made himself come by grinding his hips into the bed. He enjoys it just as much as you do.

as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! <3

hi! i'd like to ask for a whiskey with carmen berzatto with prompt m. Keeping the relationship a secret

thank you <3

Lovesick.

warnings - not quite smut, but a little smooching. cursing.

ah sweet carmen. thank you for this request <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Behind!"

Carmy's fingertips graze across your back as he walks past you, featherlight and barely there.

It sets your nerves on fire.

You carry on slicing the tomatoes, mentally willing yourself to calm down. You seem to turn into a teenager when Carmy's around, all giggly and jumpy.

"Time for you to take a break," a warm voice mutters in your ear.

"I've got like an hour before I need a break, Carm."

"I said, time for you to take a break."

He presses a gentle kiss to your ear, chuckling when he sees you shiver. To anyone else, it looks like he's just giving you direction.

"I'll meet you in the office in five," you whisper. He's satisfied with your answer, slinking off to wait for you.

You barely make it to two minutes before you're walking across the kitchen, gliding through the door and closing it behind you.

Two rough hands find your hips, pushing you up against the wall. Carmy smashes his lips to yours, using your startled gasp as opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling recklessly. Your leg hitches up around his thigh, desperate to get closer to him.

"You're all I can think about," Carmy whispers against your mouth. "Can't focus on a fuckin' thing when you're in the room."

You whine, tugging him back to kiss you again. You know this is risky. But you just can't help yourself.

"Come over tonight," you murmur. "Want you to fuck me to sleep."

He throws his head back and groans, gorgeous neck exposed and waiting to be bitten. You lean in and lick the expanse of it, tasting the salt on his skin.

Carmy brings a warm hand up to rest against your throat, smirking when you whine. He presses kisses to the spot under your ear, your neck, your collarbones. Just as he's trying to unbutton your shirt, the door swings open, scaring the life out of you both.

You shriek as Carmy jumps, light filling the tiny room.

"Well well well," Richie drawls, grin etched across his face. "What do we have here?"

"Is Carmy there? I need to ask him about-"

Sydney stops dead in her tracks, the corners of her lips curling.

"Does anyone else wanna come and fuckin' look?" Carmy groans, snapping at the two people stood in the doorway.

You hide your face in his chest, willing them to leave you alone. Or for the ground to swallow you up. Either works.

"Alright, alright. Let's leave these lovesick kids alone."

You never thought you'd see the day that Richie was your saving grace.

The minute the door swings closed, you can't help but break out into a fit of giggles. Carmy joins you, both of you crying tears of laughter.

Lovesick. He's probably right.

Pity Party.

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

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

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

Age Rating - 18+

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

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

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

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

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

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

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

"You wouldn't even believe."

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

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

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll hold you to that."

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

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

"And then?"

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

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

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

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

"Of course I do."

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

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

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

"What the fuck?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay."

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

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

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Doin' so good for me."

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

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know you didn't mean it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come on, trouble."

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

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

Hello! May I request a steamy # 8 With Carmy? (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Sweet Dreams.

8. "I had a dream about you."

Synopsis - You can't look Carmy in the eye this morning. He's determined to figure out why.

Pairing - Roommate!Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. carmen is a menace.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - the people love carmy!! and I totally understand why. another roommate fic, because everyone adores them - me included!! this takes place in the same universe as Finders, Keepers and Pity Party, but you can decide whether this happens before or after those. your choice!! <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.

"The fuck is your problem?"

Carmy has you cornered, backed up against the kitchen counter. You've been avoiding him all morning, and he's finally had enough.

"I... there's... what?" you squeak, taken aback.

He's usually so gentle with you, so careful. You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the sudden dominance he's displaying.

"I said," he begins, leaning down so he's nose to nose with you, "what is your problem? The fuck is going on with you?"

When you exhale shakily, he takes a more gentle approach.

"Honey... Did I do something wrong? Have I upset you? You haven't been able to look at me all morning. You're freaking me out."

"No, no!" you rush out. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"I'm gonna worry, until you explain yourself."

You know he means well, that his concern is coming from a place of love. The problem is, the truth is mortifying. Ridiculously embarrassing. You and Carmy have a good thing going, as roommates, and you don't want to ruin that.

"It's nothing, Carm."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that."

You flick your eyes up to meet his piercing blue ones, and you hesitate. You've never been in the habit of lying to each other. In fact, you're not sure you're physically capable of it. Those big ocean eyes can see right through you.

"Fine. But you have to promise not to laugh."

"I promise."

You take a breath, and confess as quickly as you can.

"Ihadadreamaboutyou."

The corners of his lips quirk, tilting his head in confusion.

"Say that again. Didn't quite catch it."

You roll your eyes, and commit. You might aswell, at this point.

"I had a dream about you."

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, deliberating what to say.

"What kind of dream?"

Fuck. You were hoping he wouldn't want you to elaborate.

"A good one."

"A good one, huh? Must have been, if you can't even look me in the eye this morning."

You roll your eyes and shove him in the chest lightly.

"I knew you'd be a dick if I told you. Hence why I didn't."

"No, you didn't tell me because you're embarrassed."

He steps closer to you, backing you up against the counter again. He leans in so he's forehead to forehead with you, lips brushing yours everytime he speaks.

"Where does your filthy little mind go when you fall asleep, hmm? Was I at least good, in this dream of yours? Live up to your expectations?"

"You were fine," you mumble.

"Fine? Honey, I'm the best chef in this city. I don't do fine."

"You woke me up with all the noise you were making in the kitchen before I could get to the good part."

"Oh, I left you hanging? Shit, baby. Well we can't have that."

In one fluid motion, Carmy picks you up and sits you on the counter, moving to stand between your legs. You wrap them around his hips instinctively, arms flying up around his neck.

"You gonna let me finish what I started?"

You stare into his eyes for a moment, trying to find any semblance of humour or amusement. All you find is adoration, compassion, and lust.

"You think you can?" you whisper teasingly, knowing exactly which buttons to push.

"Honey, when are you going to learn that I am the best at everything I do?"

Carmy closes the gap between you, smashing his lips to yours. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, no tenderness to be found. He slips his hand under your sleep shirt, running a finger up the middle of your underwear.

"Fuck," he groans. "Real good dream, huh?"

You nod and buck your hips into his touch, desperate to feel him.

"Right now, I'm gonna take the edge off, okay? And then, I'm gonna spread you out, and make you tell me every single little thing that happened in your dream, so you can experience it properly."

You nod frantically in response, hands clawing at his clothed shoulders. Carmy pulls your underwear down your legs and pushes them apart, wasting no time. He runs two fingers up and down, revelling in the wet warmth.

"Please," you whisper. "Please, Carmy."

He connects his lips to yours as he slides his fingers into you, muffling your sounds against his mouth. As much as you hate to admit it, he's right. He knows what he's doing, and he's good at it.

You've been so worked up all morning that it doesn't take Carmy long to figure out what you like. In no time, he's thrusting and curling his fingers, pressing his thumb onto your clit and making you whine. He's got his other arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you pressed close to him.

"You're close, honey. Can feel you. Come on, this is what you wanted, isn't it? I've got you."

You press your lips to his, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth right as you fall over the edge. Carmy trails kisses down your neck, under your ear, onto your temple, holding you tightly as you find your release. Your toes curl, back arching off the counter as you drop your head onto his chest to catch your breath.

After a couple of minutes, you pull away to look at him, smiling when you find him grinning at you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "I don't tell you enough."

"So are you," you whisper, careful not to break the moment. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He ducks down and kisses you again, sweeter this time.

"Now," he mutters against your lips. "Start from the beginning, in this dream of yours."

hi!! can i request carmy berzatto #16, t? 🤭

Finders, Keepers.

16. "Is that my shirt?" + t. Roommates

Author's Note - this is written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here if you're interested. my first time writing for beautiful angel boy carmy <3

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 1185

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

The Roommate Collection.

Having Carmen Berzatto as a roommate is a blessing and a curse.

It's a blessing for many reasons. He's kind, thoughtful, considerate. He cooks, he cleans, he loads the dishwasher correctly. He's fairly quiet, he respects your boundaries, he always lets you choose the movie to watch. He's perfect in every way, really.

He's perfect in every way. That's the curse.

He's the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. And he cooks. And he cleans. And he's the best roommate you could ever ask for. You're convinced anyone would struggle not to fall in love with him. Anyone.

You've fallen victim to the Berzatto charm. As much as you'd love to tell him, you don't want to ruin this good thing the two of you have. It's not worth it. So, you keep your mouth shut, and your eyes glued to his perfect face whenever he's not looking. It's sometimes painful, but it works.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're woken up bright and early by someone knocking on your bedroom door.

"I'm making breakfast. Lesson, or nah?"

Before you met Carmy, you couldn't really cook. Sure, you knew the basics, but he's opened you up to all sorts of new techniques and flavours. Whenever he starts to prepare a meal, he'll ask you if you want a lesson. Sometimes, you'll say no, content to watch him do his thing in the kitchen. More often than not, you'll say yes, allowing him to talk you through what he's doing and why. He explains everything step by step, always ensuring he's thorough but never patronising. These little cooking lessons allowed the both of you to get to know each other, bonding you together.

"Yeah, sure!" you call through the door, still half asleep. "Give me a minute."

You hear him turn the coffee maker on, the sounds of mugs clinking together filling the kitchen.

You stumble out of bed, grabbing around for something to wear. You find a dark grey t shirt on the chair and throw it over your head haphazardly. Pulling some socks on to tackle the morning chill, you run your fingers through your hair before making your way through the apartment.

Carmy's wearing his navy plaid pyjama pants and a white t shirt that hugs his biceps just right. His hair is sticking up in all directions, and it takes everything in you not to reach out and fix it into place.

"Morning, sweetheart," he says without turning around. "What do you want for breakfast, pancakes or waffles?"

"Hmmm," you debate. "Waffles, I think."

"Waffles it is."

Carmen turns around from where he's been brewing the coffee, and almost falls over. You're stood leaning against the counter, hair mussed and eyes still sleepy. Your legs are on full display, socks ending just above your ankle, skin glowing in the morning light. You smell like warmth and a golden sunrise. Carmy holds onto the mug in his hand like his life depends on it.

"Coffee," he stutters, handing it to you. You cross the kitchen and take it from him, kissing him on the cheek as a thank you. You both pretend not to notice the way heat blooms up his chest at the action.

The longer he looks at you, the more he can't put his finger on what it is that's driving him insane. There's something different about you this morning, and it's got him riled up. His eyes rake over your body once, twice, three times before he figures it out.

"Is that my shirt?"

You look down to find that yes, it is. You must have picked it up from the pile of clean laundry he did yesterday accidentally.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Carmy."

"No, it's okay. You look... you... it's - fuck."

You've never seen his brain short circuit like this, and you're not entirely sure what's happening.

"Are you... alright, Carmy?"

"God," he groans. "Stop saying my name like that."

"... like what?"

"Like... fuck. You say it so fuckin' pretty."

He has a look in his eyes you've never seen before. It's almost animalistic. He looks feral.

He strides over to you, cradling your face in his calloused hands. He presses his forehead to yours, and exhales shakily.

"Will you let me taste you, honey?" he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees go weak. It's a good job he's holding you up.

"Please," he practically begs. "I'll make you feel real good."

You answer him by smashing your lips to his, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. He kisses you back with vigour, tongues tangling and mouths melding. You moan and he swallows it, committing the sound to memory.

Carmy walks you backwards and hoists you up onto the edge of the kitchen table, before dropping to his knees. He looks debauched, knelt in front of you with wide eyes and swollen lips. You think he's never looked prettier.

He starts by kissing up from your ankles to your thighs, building the tension expertly. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, desperate to feel him where you need him most. Your underwear is soaked through, and you're convinced you're going to go insane if he doesn't get his mouth on you soon.

As if he's reading your mind, he nudges his nose against your covered core, inhaling. He groans at your scent, and it's the filthiest thing you've ever seen. He pulls your underwear down in one quick swoop, looking up at you carefully. You grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head, but Carmy stops you.

"Leave it on," he mutters. "Please."

You nod your head, and he takes that as confirmation. He dives into you, lapping you up like a man parched. He's nipping, biting, suckling at you as if he's done it a thousand times before. You prop yourself on your elbows, giving you the perfect view of this perfect man in this perfect situation. He's so eager to please you it makes your heart and your core ache.

"Fuck," he groans. "Sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

He slips two fingers into you with ease, and your back arches. You're writhing, moaning on every out breath, struggling to inhale. Is there anything this man can't do?

You can feel your orgasm building, warm and persistent in your stomach. Carmy can too.

"Come on, honey," he begs. "Give it to me. I want it. Let me have it."

You're not sure if it's his dulcet tone or the way his fingers curl on every upstroke, but you fall apart, hips keening and back canting. You whine his name and he groans, low and deep.

"There we go," he's muttering. "Good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he stands up and kisses you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his bitten lips.

"No Michelin star dish is ever going to compare to that," he teases against your mouth. You both laugh, giddy off of each other.

"Shut up," you giggle. "Now, are we making waffles, or what?"

hiii i luv ur work^^ can i request a fic where carmy get sucked off so good it makes his brain short-circuit a little? like he came home all tired and pent up n reader just "blow" it all away. wanna see this man get taken care of🥺 he's alway got so much on his mind i just wanna see him fucked till his brain is empty

Short Circuit.

Carmy doesn’t know how to shut his brain off. Luckily, you do.

pairing - roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 1.8k

authors note - carmy’s a little bitch in this one!! mwahahaha!! to my love who requested - i’m sorry I ended up making him a bit pathetic here, but in my defence… he does give off the energy of a wet cat, so. this set in the roommates universe, but the fics have no particular order <3

if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which in turn creates more. <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Carmy blinks at you like a deer caught in headlights, confused and struggling to process.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Carmen. Sit the fuck down before I shove you there myself.”

You gesture at the couch only a few feet away, crossing your arms over your chest expectantly.

He exhales shakily before placing his mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, walking over to do as you ordered.

He’s never really been bossed around by you before. Sure, you scold him occasionally, warn him when he does something wrong, but never like this. He can’t tell if he likes it. He thinks that maybe he does.

He gets comfy on the couch, sitting back against the cushions and spreading his legs. His white t shirt spreads deliciously across his broad shoulders, tight and worn. His old flannel pyjama pants look so cosy, you itch to reach out and run your hand across them.

Carmy’s watching you curiously, waiting for your next move. He can’t predict what’s going to happen, which would usually make him nervous. But right now, he’s got electricity buzzing through his veins, crackling and charged.

You set your own mug down and saunter over in his direction, as if you have all the time in the world. You stop at the window and shut the blinds, smirking over your shoulder when he raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

Carmy’s breath hitches in his chest, panting with anticipation. You crack your knuckles and stretch your arms above your head, suppressing a laugh when you see his eyes glued to the skin you expose between your t shirt and pyjama pants.

You stand in front of where he’s sat, patient and waiting. You look so tall, looking down on him, so completely powerful. He’s suddenly very confused by his own feelings.

“I’m sick of you bitching and moaning,” you begin, dropping to your knees on the patterned rug. “So I’m gonna make you shut the fuck up.”

Carmy suddenly sits up straight, full attention captured.

“What?”

“God, do you ever listen, Carmen?”

He’s silenced by your rebuttal, so you continue.

“You’re stressed to the max, and you don’t know how to leave work at work. You bring it home, complain for hours, and then wonder why you can’t relax. You need to shut your brain off.”

Carmy swallows harshly, eyes never leaving yours.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re not. I’m gonna do it for you.”

With that, you rise up onto your knees so you’re face to face with your roommate.

“You okay with this?” you whisper, searching his features for any signs of trepidation.

“More than okay,” he breathes, leaning in to you. “Kiss me first? Please?”

You don’t think anyone would be able to resist him in this moment, when he looks and asks so pretty.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

You press your lips to his gently, resting the waters. Carmy instantly pulls you in with his arms around your back, deepening the kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth and take control, nipping at his bottom lip when he gets too cocky.

“I’m in charge,” you tell him lowly. “If you wanna stop, say stop. But otherwise, I’m gonna keep going until you can’t remember your own name.”

Carmen’s eyes roll back at the promise, head hitting the sofa behind him as he groans. You settle back down between his legs, pulling his pyjama pants off and throwing them aside.

You trail open mouthed kisses up his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at his hip. Occasionally you bite down, soothing the sting with your tongue as you go. When he starts to fidget, you fully sink your teeth into his muscle, sharp and warning. He flinches, and you smirk.

“Patience, Carmen.”

“Don’t wanna be fuckin’ patient,” he grumbles under his breath, petulant as ever.

You look up at him firmly, and he gets the message.

Running your fingers up and down his thigh, you sit and enjoy the way goosebumps rise across his skin. You’re on a power trip, buzzing with the adrenaline of having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

“Good things come to those who wait,” you tease, before dancing your fingertips across the material of his boxers. His hips buck up into your hand and you relent, pulling his underwear down and off in one quick move.

He hisses as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin, the combination of sensations overwhelming.

You kiss along his hipbones, tasting salt and the musk that’s so Carmy. Nudging your nose into the juncture of his thigh, you chuckle when he shudders.

“Please, babe.”

“What do you want, Carm?”

“Just- just do something, please. Anything.”

Maybe it’s the rare show of manners, or maybe it’s his pleading tone, but you finally take pity on him. Grasping him in your hand, you give your wrist an experimental twist, biting your lip when he groans.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, all breathy and strained. He sounds so pretty like this, all loose limbed and pliable. “Shit, babe. Yeah.”

You take your time learning what he likes. Twisting, pulling, applying a little pressure. Carmy is writhing in his seat, completely unable to keep still. You keep pushing his hips back down firmly, putting him in his place.

He has his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back into the couch cushions, gorgeous neck exposed. You take him by surprise by wrapping your lips around him, sucking gently. His hand flies to your head, grasping for grip, for any kind of anchor.

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist as you hollow your cheeks. You rake the nails of your other hand down his thigh, squeezing occasionally to let him know you’re still good.

You feel his muscles go tense, knuckles gripping the cushion underneath him. He’s right on the edge - you can sense it.

So, you stop.

You pull away completely, laughing when his eyes shoot open, brows furrowed together.

“W-what? What the fuck? Why’d you stop?”

“Because I can.”

Carmy doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a sarcastic response. Instead, he sinks further into the couch, looking down at you with those big blue eyes.

“Babe.”

“So whiny. Jesus, Carmen, have some self respect.”

On any other day, he wouldn’t take that lying down. He’d sass you twice as hard, smirking when you roll your eyes. But today, he doesn’t have it in him.

“Please.”

“Oh you sound so pretty when you beg.”

He blushes, heat blooming up his chest and across his cheeks. He reaches out and traces your lips with his thumb, a tender gesture among all of the filth currently occurring.

“Do it more.”

He blinks at you, wondering if he heard you correctly.

“What?”

“Listen for once in your life, Berzatto. I said, do it more. Beg. Beg for it, and I’ll make you come.”

Carmy thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He’s never seen this side of you before - in all honesty, you didn’t know it existed. He’s discovering a lot about himself tonight, and as confusing as it is, he’s loving it.

“Please, honey. Please.”

You click your tongue disapprovingly, shaking your head.

“Nuh uh. I want you to beg so hard that I am dripping, Carmen. Make it count.”

“You’re getting off on this,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You mime tapping an imaginary watch on your wrist, signalling him to hurry up. In reality, you’d kneel here on the rug all night if he wanted, content to watch him all high strung and flushed.

“Okay, okay. Sweetheart, please. Fuck, I need it. Need it so bad. Need you so bad. Just- give me anything, something, please.”

His voice has gone all breathy, shaky and unsure. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and the mental image of him crying because of you turns you on more than it should.

“Oh baby,” you coo. “Was that so hard? Hmm?”

He shakes his head, bitten lip between his teeth.

“Gonna give you what you need now, because you were so good. My pretty, pretty boy.”

It might be your tone, or it might be because you called him your boy, but Carmy melts. He’s nothing but a puddle, mewling and panting, no coherent thoughts left in his brain.

You get back to work, hollowing your cheeks and working whatever you can’t fit in your mouth with your soft hands. You swirl your tongue, pressing it to the underside of him when you pull back slightly for air.

You wonder, for a second, if you’ve broken your roommate. Nonsense is leaving his lips in constant streams, babbling under his breath like he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah baby, keep going please, please don’t stop.”

“Fuck you’re so good, s’good, so good.”

“Just wanna come, please honey, I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

“Ohhh, yesyesyes, oh fuck, thank you baby, shit.”

You keep humming in response, and the vibrations are Carmy’s undoing. His hips jolt upwards as his back arches off the couch, fingers scrambling for purchase. He hits the back of your throat and you groan, letting him ride it out however he needs. He relaxes back into his original position, body completely spent.

You squeeze his thigh to get his attention, making sure he watches as you swallow everything he’s given to you. He groans, low and tired, shaking his head with a smile on his face. You rest your head on his leg, looking up at him.

“You good, Carm?”

He nods, trying to gather the energy to answer you properly.

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “I genuinely think I’ve never been better.”

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, all slow and saccharine.

“I can’t move. Think you’ve ruined me.”

“That was the plan,” you wink, standing up and pulling his boxers back up his legs.

You grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, watching as he downs it all in one go. Sitting next to him on the couch, he pulls you into his side, slotting you there perfectly.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the evening dusk of the room. “Not just for making me come harder than I ever have in my life. But, you know… for everything.”

You chuckle, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Of course. You’d do the same for me.”

“Next time you have a bad day, I’m gonna throw you on the couch and eat you out until you cry.”

You groan, pinching his thigh in warning.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

@enigmaticloki @kaelabear @idontexist-anymore @jazminsjaz @kingsqueensandvagabonds

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

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

pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carmy hums, half-distracted. “Mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit where?” you scoff.

“In my lap.”

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

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

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

“Not like that,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath catches, and he smirks.

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

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

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

“What about in the bath?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you manage through a whimper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re an idiot, Bear.”