hi all, had some really hard news a few days ago and it’s really been a difficult time for me. I know I said I’d get some works done but I physically and mentally cannot function too great at the moment. Don’t know when I’ll be back but I’ll try my hardest, hope you can all understand.
okayyy i’ve been thinking about this thing for a while… you bring carmy and you’s baby boy at some kind of event(?) at the bear and ofc carmy is busy being the boss and all and luca is invited as well and some random person mistakenly thinks baby boy is luca’s and carmy just gets jealous/angry/sad and luca just thinks it’s hilarious and you too but you are just trying together get carmy to calm down and kiss his pout away while everybody fawns over the littlest berzatto
carmen frets over the food sitting on the table. the tweezers in his hand carefully fix the basil leaves atop of the appetizers, his lips pursed in deep focus, a single curl fallen to the middle of his forehead. he pinches the tool and maneuvers the leaves out of place.
“such a cute baby. he has his father’s eyes!”
he hears one of the wealthy voices of the charity event behind him. considering how you two brought your baby over, it’s no wonder they’re all marveling over the cute little one who already has a striking resemblance to carmen. he wonders how they know the baby has his eyes, however, since his back is turned.
“he’s adorable. you should be proud, luca.”
what the shit?
carmen whirs around, white knuckling the tweezers in his grip. he glances at the baby in your arms and luca stupidly standing beside you.
“oh, he’s not mine,” luca says with a laugh, holding a hand over his chest.
“no? forgive me, i thought since you both have those blue eyes,” she mutters, a glass of champagne in her hand.
“nope, not him. baby’s a berzatto,” you say with a giggle. so amused by the very idea and carmen takes more offense as he sees you and luca in such mirth.
“actually, that’s me,” carmen grumbles, approaching with his hands on his hips. the older woman casts her gaze up, flickering her focus between carmen and the gurgling baby.
“that makes more sense. i see the resemblance!” she says.
but it’s tainted. carmen offers a tight lipped smile and a handshake as he thinks about you and luca together. this woman placed an image into his head, an unsavory sight of you, luca, your baby, a happy family with carmen nowhere to be seen. what exactly sets luca apart as a family man?
he bows out as the chatter increases, the thoughts running rampant through his mind. you and carmen made that baby. it’s his. it bugs the ever living fuck out of him someone thinks otherwise.
you notice the tension in carmen’s jaw, how he subtracts himself as guests talk to your staff and coo at your baby. being married to carmen, you know his mannerisms, his quirks, and the far look on him as he departs from the area.
“can you take him for a sec?” you ask tina. her hands instantly come up, grabbing the baby towards her.
“of course. ven conmigo, cariño,” she says happily. the baby kicks his feet, settling into tina’s arms.
you walk into the kitchen and see carmen at the counter. you approach slowly.
“hiding?” you ask softly, so as to not scare him. he glances at you before looking back at the plating.
“there’s too many people,” he says with a shrug.
“then you should come back out and just focus on me and our son, yeah?” you attempt to coax him. you dislike when he’s in a sour mood. he did well all day up until now.
“maybe you should ask your baby daddy luca,” he grits back, not bothering to look at you.
“carmen, please…”
it’s comical. carmen is the one married to you, the one who knocked you up, and yet here he is sulking over some random woman confusing luca as the father to your child. only a slight misstep in the grand scheme of things. so you can’t help yourself as you let out a small chuckle as you rub your face.
“it’s not funny,” he mutters as he pivots towards you. his frown deepens, clutching his teaspoon, vulnerability in his irises he shares with your son. you quickly straighten out and clear your throat of the laughter threatening to break free.
“no, no, totally not funny,” you reassure. you go as far as cupping his face, relieved to see him leaning his cheeks more into your palms. he releases the teaspoon onto the counter in favor of gripping your wrist to ground himself.
“our baby,” you begin, “is just that. ours. don’t let a silly comment like that get to you.”
“don’t like anyone thinkin’ you’re with anyone but me,” he murmurs despite himself. he turns his chin and administers a gentle kiss onto your palm, eyes shutting as his nose slips between your middle and ring finger where your wedding band sits. it tickles how he nuzzles into your hand.
“you kidding me? do you think i’d ever look elsewhere? we promised forever, baby, and i don’t know about you, but i meant it.”
“i meant it, too,” he grumbles, his eyebrows softening, more upturned.
“does our kid look like luca?” he asks as he removes your hand from his face. you lace your fingers with his and step closer.
“no, he looks like you. he’s got your hair, your eyes, your lips… that lady back there just saw blue eyes and ran with it,” you continue to chase away the doubts in his head.
you begin to stamp kiss after kiss onto his mouth, efforts present in pushing out those horrid thoughts from his mind. he can’t help it. they come and go, intrusive buggers that you’re prepared to sweep into security whenever he needs it. it’s the deal between you two. you’re there for each other to ease the aches, no matter if they’re a little ridiculous at times.
carmen’s resistance fades gradually, his arms looping around your waist, tugging you closer to him to deepen your kisses. each one administered curves his lips further, the pout once there gone and forgotten.
“keep it up and the next baby’ll be comin’ soon,” he mumbles against your lips. his grin widens as you laugh against him.
Carmen will grab your waist any and everywhere. Especially from behind, while simultaneously kissing down your neck. He loves coming up behind you and just holding onto your waist. Whether you’re brushing your teeth, cooking, washing the dishes, etc. You name it and he’s holding onto your waist. Does it in the grocery store when you’re taking too long, you’re always amazed at how whiny he can be. Considering how stoic he makes himself out to be on the exterior, especially in front of the staff. You’ll be scrounging to find the Chardonnay that Sugar and Pete like for Sunday dinner and Carmy’s groaning into your ear while his big hands hold your waist, about how bad he wants to go home and have you. He’ll literally ogle you while you’re making dinner and get so turned on. Has to physically stop himself from taking you right there because what you’re cooking is his favourite and he doesn’t want it burnt like yesterday’s dinner that had ended up in the trash, after he’d fucked you on the kitchen island. It’s subtle touches in public when he notices weird ogles from other men looking at you too long. Tight grips on your ass whenever the two of you are at a packed bar. And passionate slow kisses with his hand tight around your neck if anyone dares to flirt with you. Has an array of pet names for you that he uses during sex which include; breeding whore, little slut, baby, doll, mommy, wifey and a few others that spontaneously come to him in the moment.
Little something for carmy and pronebone please please please 🩷🩷
“oh god, baby, you feel… unff, fuck, y’feel sooo fuckin’ good,” carmen whimpers into your shoulder, panting and mushing desperate sounds into your skin along with sloppy kisses matching the intensity of his currently sloppy thrusts against your ass.
his bicep flexes around your neck, the higher pitch of your moans and whines settling bliss in his abdomen, simultaneously locking your fingers with his with his free hand, steadily driving his cock in and out of you. the arch in your back has trouble staying intact with carmen’s weight and hips pushing you into the mattress (and the fluffy pillow he placed under your pelvis so you don’t ache and you can both get the most from this), but he’s more concerned with the warmth of your cunt engulfing every inch of him. he’s in a love hate relationship with thrusting, because fuck, as he snaps himself forward, it strikes something in you, it milks him and he knows he sounds fucked out with his grunting embedded with broken trembles. but pulling back momentarily leaves his base and part of his girth with the terrible absence of your silk, and so he pauses between every sink, grinds, and squeezes your hand as his name continues to leave your lips.
“i’m almost there, baby. wanna stay like this forever,” he heaves, edging himself on purpose to remain on top of you, to surround you for an indefinite amount of time.
you feel heady from how long he’s suspended you both in this affair, a place reserved just for you two to get lost in, to detach from the outside world. the arm around your neck makes breathing harder, but the asphyxiation brings you closer to heaven, closer to carmen, heightens every sensation, from his cock hitting deep, to his lips mumbling praise and filth on your shoulder, to his hand pathetically clamping yours in rhythm with his movements as he tries to hold on for you, for him, for this to never end.
“carmy,” you hiccup.
“mhm, me too,” he shudders, his pace suddenly quickening, turning his head to kiss the side of your face all over, his heavy breathing right next to your ear, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
summary: the first time you saw carmen berzatto, you knew it would never last. yet your story spans years, years of first love, heartbreak and forgiveness.
The first time you saw Carmen Berzatto, you knew it would never last. You hadn’t meant to fall in love , your meeting in and of itself was by chance and yet you didn’t know it, but that chance meeting would be the cause of years of on and off pain, joy and intense love.
Year 1
He was so young, before the exterior had hardened, before his hands would become covered in the tattoos you’d one day grow to know. His hair was still out of place, he hadn’t quite grown into it yet, and you could always tell he hated it. But you never told him that. You loved it. You didn’t ponder too much on how you met, because when you were with him all you thought about was how badly you never wanted it to end. He was miserable, and so were you. Stuck in a constant battle with your near abusive employer, who sent you out on errand runs whether it be rain, snow or sun. And he, in a vicious cycle of abuse with his head chef, hurling his guts out almost every night, clinging to you like a child would its mother, punching holes in the studio apartment walls whenever you were gone, whenever it all got to be too much.
It was strange for the two of you, to find solace in a world where you thought you’d forever be alone, misunderstood. Carmen never had to say it, but you knew he loved you. It was in his actions, and it would come in his words later. The love was innocent, and you could tell it was his first time. He was clueless, puppy-like sometimes, so clueless as to what he was to do. You never learnt too much about his family, he didn’t like talking about them, and you weren’t the kind of person to push him.
One of the first things you’d noticed about him was the self deprecation, always dragging himself down, scoffing whenever you’d dare give him a compliment. Turning his head when you’d trace his scattered freckles and tell him he was so beautiful. Yet he never failed to tell you, how you were his dream girl, that you were the only thing in the loud city that was keeping him going, that when he got those scary thoughts after a long shift at the restaurant, calmed him down. You’d smoke cigarettes out on the patio together, his arms-still lanky at the time, wrapped around your shoulders. Him recounting the awful things chef had told him that day, while you’d trace the little hairs on his knuckles, assuring him that none of it was true. Which was often followed by a shared beer or two, sloppy buzzed sex and one holding the other while they sobbed to sleep, sometimes even both of you.
Life was hard, but Carmen had your shoulder to cry on and you his. And as the months went by, and the seasons changed you started to see the boy you loved so very, slowly grow into a man. His arms had started to grow, all his hard work at the restaurant becoming evident on his body. Though frown lines had also begun to show on his forehead, the stress also becoming evident. The first time the two of you had fought, the first time Carmy’s failed to conceal his temper was his first sleepwalking mishap.
-
You stirred slowly, believing you were smelling smoke, but quickly brushed it off. You and carmy often slept with the windows open, so you had left it to one of the neighbours possible making a late night snack. Yet when you moved your arm you felt an empty space in the bed, it was unlike Carmy to let go of you when he slept, his arms often wrapped tightly around you, or holding onto one of your breasts. Once your senses had fully come to you and the sleep began to fade you became fully aware of the strong smell of fire, char even. That’s when you jumped from the bed and looked over to the other side of the studio apartment. That’s when you quickly turned on the light and found carmy standing over the stove with a cigarette in hand and his other hand on a burning pan of…photographs.
“What are you doing?” You shook him, making quick work turning the stove off and throwing the pan into the sink, running the tap. There was no response from him, he just stood there staring off into space, it was almost as if he were in a trance. It frightened you. “Carm, what the fuck?” You gently shook him again, afraid you’d hurt him. Finally his eyes had left the stove and rose to look you in the eye, that’s when he seemed to snap out of it, realising what he had done. That’s when you grabbed his face, kissing him in relief. “You scared me, are you okay?” You left quick kisses on his tinted cheeks. That’s when he unexpectedly pulled away from you. “Get off me.” He pushes you away, grabbing his cigarettes and marching over to the couch where his denim jacket sat. “Carm, you were sleepwalking I think.” You whisper, watching as he throws the jacket on.
“I wasn’t fuckin sleepwalking, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s seething, moving a mile a minute, looking everywhere but at you, looking for everything and yet nothing. You knew him though, well enough to know that the feeling he felt was embarrassment. That’s when you approached him, attempting to put your arms around him again. “I’m not going to judge you Carm, I want to help.” You try. “Get the fuck off, please” he pushes your hands away, not enough to hurt you, but you get the memo.
“Why the fuck would you not judge me, I’m fucked. I can see it, you wanna leave don’t you. What kind of sicko walks around at night burning shit. You don’t need this, just fuck out of here while you still can”
“You’re not going to push me away…I love you Carm.”
“Fuck does it matter? Same shit my ma would say and what good has that done me huh?” He throws his arms in the air as if to say your love means nothing, and then he’s out the door in no time, leaving you in the middle of the room dumbfounded. He had compared you to his mother, he had left you.
-
Things had never really been the same since that fight, but as all relationships did, fights happened. Carmen returned the next evening. He had spent the night at another chefs apartment and then gone to work. When he’d returned to you he had fallen to his knees, face stuffed into your stomach, begging for forgiveness. Begging for you not to leave him. Begging you not to stop loving him. That’s when you’d seen it for the first time, the cracks in him. They weren’t visible at first, but they were there. And that’s when he had finally said it to you.
“Please baby don’t leave me, I’m sorry…I f-fuc…fucki-ng- I- i…lo… I love you.” For the first time since Carmen Berzatto was a young boy, he had stuttered again, something he had worked his whole adult life to never do again, to leave behind. Because he was frightened, the thought of going on in this big sad city, at the shitty job he hated, without you made him turn into the scared little boy who watched his mother drunkenly rage. He needed you. And while he’d just come to the realisation that he needed you. You had finally heard it. It was no longer in his actions, finally it was in his words. Carmen had told you he loved you.
Doom-scrolled through at least 50 Carrie and Big edits, that mirrored my on and off relationship of 3 years and had a breakdown. Does it ever get better? 😞
My tumblr has been acting so weird lately, it’s been unfollowing accounts, refreshing the app if I so much as exit and my for you page won’t load, anyone else experiencing this?
Whenever Carmen sees you in your Lacy pink, Kiki de Montparnasse slip, doing something in the kitchen he can’t help but brush up behind you and ask if you want to be bred like a drunken cumslut😞
Some random thoughts I’ve been having (feel free to engage/expand!)
Observing the ways in which people digest media is so interesting, because to me the same people who thought Billie Eilish’s record deserved album of the year, probably think Wicked should win best picture at the Oscar’s. Pretty much they don’t familiarise themsleves with the history/culture of institutions like the recording academy and motion picture arts academy and project their own ideas of what they like as being what is superior or deserving of recognition. People don’t even bother consuming art but are quick to invalidate it if it defeats their favourite thing or what they believe deserves to be rewarded. While criticism is okay and always important, a lot of the times people mask their denouncing of something under the guise of constructive criticism (as can be seen with cancel culture) Do you really want someone/something to be held accountable, or did you just not like it in the first place, and need a reason to denounce it/ bring it down without coming off as a hater?
notes: Carmy struggles to hold back on his wants and needs during a special occasion at the house.
warnings: filth, breeding kink, swearing.
Carmen was sharp and precise in his planning of Emma’s 2nd birthday, for him this wasn’t just a simple party, it was for his second baby girl and he wasn’t going to allow her to settle for less. He curated the kids menu himself, and made sure he kept an eye on the staff as they put together his ideas, he worked on sketches of what he wanted the ladybug cake that his daughter had asked for. Getting Marcus himself, to make the cake and make sure it was pristine. He had Richie and the Faks on food service duty, but insisted that they keep an eye on Richie, considering he didn’t have the best track record with children’s parties. You didn’t even have to lift a finger, with Carmy continually letting you know he had it in the bag. The moms from the girls school, couldn’t stop gushing over how lucky you were to have a husband who was willing to take the reins when it came to party planning, and you couldn’t help but agree.
They day had finally come, you had both your girls in black and red, little ladybug antennas and cutesy wings adorning their backs. Both Valentina and Emma were running around excitedly as they heard Carmen let in their cousins, Nat and Pete following behind them with gifts in hand. “Allegra and MJ are here!” Valentina squeals, grabbing onto her younger sister’s arms and dragging her towards the living room. You smile hearing the excitement from your girls, looking yourself in the mirror. You were dressed in a tight floral sun dress, in theme with the birthday, your hair freshly blown out as per usual and your ‘C’ necklace that Carmen had gotten you for your anniversary glistened against your neck. You’d cheekily thrown on your push up bra, in hopes of getting lucky after all the fuss of the birthday had come to an end.
By the time the rest of the guests arrive, the backyard is buzzing with the loud sound of children’s shrieks and giggles, the sizzling of the grill that Carmy and the men were working on and the distant chatter of gossip coming from the group of moms. You were refilling the womens’ glasses when you’d realised half way through that the pitcher was halfway finished. “I’m just going to run inside and refill the drinks, ladies” you announce, before making your way back into the home. While Carmy had done his best, well and truly, you had underestimated just how much work today was going to be, and as you quickly refilled the jar of Sangria, you finally took in the deep breath you’d been holding in since the start of the party. This felt like the first time you’d had the time to think since the guests had arrived, you loved hosting, really but your mind was also flying a mile a minute at this moment.
Carmen had been watching you the whole afternoon, he couldn’t help the tight feeling in his pants, when he noticed the skimpy little sundress you’d thrown on, cleavage pushed up so nicely and that pretty necklace of his initials that was clasped around your neck. You were so engrossed in your mommy duties, filling up glasses of sangria, giving out juice boxes to the children, passing around hors d’oeuvres, watching over the kids as they took turns in the jumping castle. He knew for a fact that he’d probably end up putting another baby in you tonight, but he just needed to get you alone for a minute. “Yo, Carm, you even listenin?” Richie snaps at Carmy and he’s finally broken from his trance. “Yeah, whats up?” He replies, still watching you as you pour the remainder of Sangria into one of the mums glass. His eyes following as you walk into the house. “We’re outta mustard, got any in the house?” Carmen nods, not bothering to even reply, before he’s following after you, under the guise of retrieving more mustard.
After putting the jars into the refrigerator, you quickly excuse yourself to the small downstairs bathroom, in dire need of some relief. However the very second you try to close the door, you feel the hand twist back, Carmy quickly pushing his way in.
“What?” Your eyes search his frantically. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Carmen’s eyes sparkle, like glass carved sapphires.
You eye him, sceptical and cautious. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Carmy moves closer to you. The air in the already small bathroom starts to rise with the heat of his body.
“Then,” you say carefully, not wanting to entice him into whatever ludicrous game he’s planning on playing, “why are you in here, Carmy Bear?”
He looks you up and down, that face he gives you when you know he’s hungry. He couldn’t stop looking at your dress, one of his favourites. The flimsy material, your tits pushed up together so nicely. He can’t help but look into your eyes. “Y’know I fuckin love this one?” He puts one hand on your chest, lightly squeezing, emitting a squeak from you.
“Carmy… stop.”
“Why momma?” he hums quietly, grasping some fabric of your dress between his thumb rolling it.
You draw in a breath. A whole party is going on a mere window away with children, mums from your group, and your own two babies—and Carmy has you cornered in the toilet like a pair of teens in the locker room. “Bear…stop” you warn him, but he’s already sliding your dress up your thigh and reaching for more. “We can’t…”
“I like when you wear my name on your neck, let em know who you belong to” Carmy whispers, keeping his voice low in case one of the guys comes looking for him.
The thrill of it gets the better of you, and you lean into it, playing into his game. “We can’t do this in here, Bear,” you whine urgently, “there’s people—”
“I know momma, but you need this,” Carmy says, lifting up your dress so he can lift you up onto your tip-toes by your ass. “And I know you’re stressed.” He pulls you to his body and manoeuvres you both until he can hoist you onto the cold sink. “’know it helps when you cum.”
“’s that why you locked me in here with you? For stress relief?”
Carmen whispers into your ear as he skims between your legs, running his fingers up and down your clothed core. “I locked you in here ‘cause I wanna feel this pussy cum and I’m not leaving til I get you pregnant again.”
You steady yourself on the porcelain sink, wrapping your legs around Carmy’s hips as he strokes your cunt.
“Carm I think I heard someone,” you mutter breathlessly, not sure if you heard the creak of the back door or if you just think you heard it.
He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he slips his hand inside your underwear. He teases your bare folds from beginning to end and back again, nuzzling your skin with his soft lips and wet tongue.
“Carmy, wait,” you whisper.
He groans into your neck, running his fingertips up and down your slick, swollen lips, glancing your clit, and doing his utmost not to bite down on your skin.
“Carmen,” your voice is hoarse with a hint of panic, “we gotta stop, baby.”
Out of nowhere, comes three hard knocks on the bathroom door, and your stomach drops.
Carmen’s other hand flies up to cover your mouth before you can even gasp. “Occupied!” he yells, his head turned in the direction of the bathroom door—but somehow, his fingers don’t falter as they work you over.
You breathe hard through your nose, hot exhale fanning over Carmy’s fingers where he’s got your mouth clamped shut. You train your gaze on his face, your eyes wide with alarm, as your body responds to almost being caught with an embarrassingly eager surge of desire.
The voice of one of none other than Richie calls back, muffled by the door. “Yo, cousin where the fuck is the mustard at?” “My bad, it’s in the fridge, left side!” Carmy yells, looking at you dangerously, daring you to make a sound.
“A’ight man, hurry back!” Richie replies with a smile in his voice. Carmen faces the door until he’s sure he hears Richie exit through the back door. Then, pressing ever so slightly inside you with the tips of two fingers, he turns back to you.
He doesn’t take his hand from your mouth when he murmurs, “Didn’t want her to hear you cooing, baby girl .”
Your objections dissolve like salt in water as Carmy trails two fingers up your slit. He swirls your wet around, coating your clit with it with every firm circle his digits make on your stiff bud.
You drop your legs from his hips, spreading them over the sink and widening yourself for his thick fingers.
Carmen takes his hand from your mouth and snakes it around the nape of your neck. He nudges the tip of your nose with his as he pushes into your cunt with one big, fat finger.
Jaw dropped, you sigh into his open mouth.
Carmen loves it. “Take two, mommy,” he murmurs onto your lips, lining up his longest digit, “take ‘em both.”
He surges forward again, pressing into your pussy with two thick fingers, and this time the subtle stretch is even more satisfying. Your head tips back against the mirror as pleasure flickers through all the nerves in your body.
“M’fuckin momma was all worked up, huh?” Carmy mutters absently in a low, quiet voice. He pumps his fingers in a rhythm that hits all the right spots inside you as he holds you by the back of the neck. “Wound too fuckin’ tight.”
The drag of his digits is heavenly and your pussy walls wrap tight around his fingers, adding to the friction. You gasp his name, but he hushes you abruptly.
Footsteps from outside, once again.
“Don’t fuckin breathe,” he whispers, and the excitement in his eyes is clouded over by a dark look of warning. He changes the angle of his fingers, now driving up into your pussy so his fingertips nudge your interior bundle of nerves with every pass.
Eyes locked with his, your mouth falls further open, and you put everything into staying quiet.
Carmen looks deadly serious and mouths the word, “Quiet,” as Richie returns from outside, seemingly coming back for something. His fingers glide easily in and out of you, the slip and slide aided by so much of your cum.
Two quick, sharp knocks on the bathroom door and the Richie yells out in his familiar voice, “Don’t be too long in there, Carm, you got the shits or something?” He trolls, a loud laugh leaving him.
But there’s no footsteps signalling that he’s fucking off.
The man is waiting by the door for a response.
Carmen’s eyes don’t leave yours this time. He’s exhilarated by the dark thrill of all this, and chuckles another fake laugh. “Fuck off, cousin!” he replies, and that seems to do the trick.
You hear him finally walk off, and shock finally hits you.
“Carmy,” you gasp, “you think he knows?”
“He’s a jag off,” Carmen whispers quickly, pulling at your dress, exposing one of your breasts. “He doesn’t,” he murmurs, the pump and drag of his fingers slowing as he eyes your budded nipple peeking through the lacy cup of your push up bra.
“C’m’on,” Carmen growls, tugging the cup down to half-pull your tit out of your bra, “make it quick.”
He tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and picks up the pace again, shoving his fingers into your cunt and dragging them out along your slippery, silky walls.
You suck in a breath through your teeth as pleasure sparks in your clit and up your spine, but to Carmy you murmur, “Bear. Please. We just shouldn’t.”
“Fuck ‘em,” he grumbles, pumping your pussy so hard and fast his arm shakes. “My breeding whore. My house.” So hard and fast your cunt starts to make noise. “’f I wanna give you another baby, I will.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you hold back a groan, and your fingers curl around the edge of the sink to steady yourself. Within moments of fingering you and toying with your nipple, Carmen works your body to a quavering high.
“Any time now,” he hissed into your neck, and buries his fingers inside you to the knuckle so he can rub furiously at your swollen clit.
You choke on a sob, your orgasm rising and tightening in your core. Carmy’s thumb brushes back and forth and up and down and around and around so wildly, so perfectly, with enough force and pressure to bring you quickly to your peak.
“Cum now. Cum now,” Carmy grits through clenched teeth, feeling your pussy get hotter and wetter and tighter on his fingers. Your clit stiffens and twitches once under his thumb, and he knows you’re about to break. He growls into your ear, “Cum on my fucking fingers or I’ll take you upstairs and I don’t care who hears us.”
“Fuck!” Your orgasm shudders through your body in waves, bursting with bright white light and searing pleasure. That you can’t groan or moan or scream through it sharpens the high—the only thing you’re cognizant of is the rhythmic clenching of your pussy around Carmen’s digits and the bliss turning your every muscle and bone to jelly.
“There it is,” Carmen murmurs as your legs shake uncontrollably on the m sink, “there you go, mommy.”
warnings: smut, breeding kink, general filth, swearing.
notes: carmen rushes you into the staff bathroom during family, in order to fulfill the goal the two of you are hoping to achieve by next winter.
Attending family at the bear had recently become a normal part of your daily schedule. Not only did you get to enjoy the staffs expert cooking, but you were also granted a little more time spent with your favourite man. Carmen always insisted you joined the staff, because to him and them, you are part of the bear family. You’d never been one for exhibitionism but recently both you and Carmy had decided you wanted to add a Berzatto baby to your home by next winter. Ever since that conversation, the two of you were insatiable. Disgusting almost, in the bedroom, the shower, Carmen’s office and you hated to admit it, but also in Richie’s car.
So here the two of you were, sat at the table with the staff, as Tina went on with a story, something about her time at culinary school, you weren’t sure at this point, especially with Carmen’s hands discreetly wrapped around your upper thigh. As Tina continued with her story, and laughter filled the room, Carmen had become bold enough to start touching you. You couldn’t stop the gasp that left your mouth once his fingers made way into you, his eyes flying to yours, so dark and full of need…hunger.
“You good?” Richie is the first to look at you, and you quickly nod in embarrassment. “Yeah I’m fine, just bit my tongue.” He nods, buying into your lie, as does the rest of the table. Carmen seemingly impressed with your acting decides to push his fingers deeper into you. “Y’did good f’me, but I’m going to remove them inna sec.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your ear, to mask the small conversation the two of you were having. “Bu— why?” You silently whimper, as you feel him slowly pull his fingers out. “Theres no need wasting your orgasm, you know my seed will only take if you finish, so I need you to go to the bathroom right now, I’ll meet you in there.” You nod, at the same time you feel his fingers fully leaving from inside you.
“Excuse me guys, just gonna use the washroom.” You announce, and the staff all nod, oblivious to what was really about to go down. As you push open the bathroom door, you wait patiently, wondering what kind of excuse Carmen would be coming up with, as to not draw any suspicion to the real, dirty reason he was following you into here. Soon enough you heard a tap at the door and you made quick work of unlocking it, and in came Carmen.
“Take it out, need to fill you.” He groaned as he wrapped his arms around you waist, proceeding to hike up your skirt. You swiped your underwear to the side, revealing your aching pussy. Fumbling forward while he balanced you on the wall, you pulled his cock out of his pants. Red with want, you spat on your hand, smearing it along his length as best you could. Being sure to coat the head thoroughly, slipping down to your waiting entrance.
You couldn’t stop the loud yelp that left your mouth, pleading with him for more, “Fuck, more Carm…”
You closed your eyes, humming as he plunged in deeper. Both of you sucked in a breath as he seated himself fully, “Gimme a baby Carm,” your lips met his with a feral hunger, Carmen rested his forehead on yours, “I promise I will give you one, but right now I need you to focus on taking it all ok?”
“Need it all carmy, want it dripping out of me…”
A small thrust, jolting your head to slam back into the wall with a thud. You giggled a little before slinging your arm around his neck. Carmy kissed your forehead, softly thrusting inside you, barely moving more than an inch. Deep pressure that settled in your gut like a rock, you tightened around him.
You whimperd again, “Yessss…”
He huffed against your sweating skin, thrusting shallowly inside you. Bumping you against the wall in a soft thud, you clutched just shoulders. Digging in through the fabric as you leaned forward. Bringing your lips to suction to his throat, echoing a moan when you made contact.
Carmen choked as you ran your teeth across his skin, voice booming in your ear, “Jesus-fuck angel, I’m gonna cum.” He ground inside you hard, rumbling around your sensitive walls over and over in small circles. You squelched around his length, holding on for dear life.
You wanted his cum-you’d been thinking about it since you left for work in the morning, and on your way to the restaurant. Nodding as he slammed his hips into yours, stilling. You panted on his shoulder, staring into the mirror on the opposite wall.
Wide-eyed, mouth popped open in pleasure, peering over his massive shoulder. Broad back flexing under his signature white shirt while he fucked you, clenching at how submissive you looked. Legs open around his hips, eyeliner running down your face.
“Don’t want a single drop going to waste, okay?” he huffed.
You didn’t break eye contact with his striking blue eyes, nodding in agreement.