hey! i'm asa, 27, and i'm currently writing for reader x carmen berzatto :)
my ask box is open for blurbs and drabbles (mdni). fluff, angst and some smut are my jam. for anything harder, you'll have to look elsewhere. i can't promise to respond to everything but send me those carmy thoughtssss
masterlist: carmen berzatto x reader
fics
teach me (fluff/mild smut)
tell me what you like (explicit, smut, nsfw)
falling (ask that turned into 1.1k of fluff meets angst)
dad!carmen berzatto
no one else (fluff, 1.9k,.gender reveal of your baby with carmen)
feeling the baby kick (short ask sequel to no one else)
tattooed on my heart (fluff, 1.3k, carmy explains some of his tattoos to your daughter)
made to measure (ask that turned into 1.5k of fem!reader x dilf!carmen, thinking she's still hot after having their baby)
I'm looking for corny in my life (fluffy christmas drabble)
my whole heart (fluff - you and carmy decide two kids is enough for you ❤)
answered asks/blurbs
sharing carmy's jacket (sfw fluff)
carmy making lunch and leaving notes for you (sfw)
getting matching tattoos
complimenting their appearance (carmen x fem!reader, borders on nsfw)
staring at carmy's arms while he cooks
carmen with a reader who struggles to orgasm (gn reader, nsfw)
this mess was yours (now your mess is mine) - Part 1
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)
Rating: Explicit (6.4k)
Tags: Smut, Set two(ish) years before the present aka the New York years, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy (my beloved), Mutual Masturbation, P in V Sex, Thigh Riding, Handjob, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Friends with Benefits, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink
Summary:
Carmy is your front door neighbor. You fall head first into a friends with benefits situationship. What could possibly go wrong?
"You know, I had never met someone so committed to ghosting. Leaving the city... That's a whole other level," you said, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Not as bitter as the sight of Carmy, though. He looked beautiful still, eyes wide with surprise and face red with embarrassment. You were in the alley behind the restaurant, where he had dragged you away from the staff mumbling something about "an old friend from New York."
"I've been uh-" his hands were fiddling with a spoon somewhat manically.
"I know," you interrupted. "I read your spread in Food and Wine. I was at the dentist and they had the magazine. Imagine my surprise when I saw that my neighbor, sorry, ex neighbor and ex friend with benefits, was the main story of a culinary magazine."
You were being melodramatic, you knew. But you had earned it. It had been months, fucking months, and not a word - he could be dead for all you knew.
"I told you I was a chef," he said sheepishly.
"Fuck you, Carmy."
"Yeah. Yeah, that's fair," he admitted with a deep sigh. "Do you, uh, wanna talk?"
"Yes."
2 years earlier
The elevator of your shitty, overpriced building was out of order for the third time this year. Fuck. As you climbed up the stairs you started hearing someone on the phone, his voice gruff.
"Sugar called. She is worried about the restaurant, she's worried about you..."
As you got closer you started to make out the voice on the other side of the phone, rougher, defensive, and very loud.
"My baby brother is worried about me? Well, fuck me. I must be a real goddamn mess, huh?"
"Don't be like that, Mikey. If you need me to come back, just fucking say it."
It was your front door neighbor, you realized. He was leaning on the wall by his door, rummaging through his backpack, his face scrunched up and red.
"Don't bother coming over, hot shot, everything's under control," the voice on the phone said, a little condescending.
"That your stupid little brother? Tell him to go fuck himself, will you, Mike?" a second voice chimed in, followed by the defeaning sound of a hundred knives and forks falling to the ground. "Fuck me!"
And the line went silent. You stood awkwardly, hand on your doorknob, waiting. You glanced at your neighbor and found his gaze vacant as he stood in front of his apartment door, keys in hand, standing still. He honestly looked on the edge of a meltdown and your heart ached for him.
"It's Carmy, right?"
Your voice woke him up from his daydream - probably more like day-nightmare.
"Yeah. Hi," he managed, absent. He was still fiddling with his keys.
"No offense but you look like shit," you said and it made him huff half a laugh - he looked pretty when he smiled. "Wanna come in for a drink?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure," Carmy replied and followed you inside the apartment.
"So what do you want?" you asked, head inside the fridge. "I have beer-"
"Actually, uh, I don't drink," Carmy said like he had just remembered.
"Oh, so coffee? It's a little late but I think I have decaf somewhere..." you offered gently, moving towards the pantry.
'It's- never mind," he said, looking conflicted, walking backwards, to the door. "I just didn't want to be alone tonight," he winced and your heart skipped a beat. "That sounded awful. Sorry, I- uh- I'll leave."
"It's okay," you said, a shy smile curving your lips. "I've been trying to hit on you for months so it's more than okay."
"Oh!" Carmy froze, eyebrows arched, stunned.
"Yeah," you looked down at the floor, face flushed. "Gave up for a minute there. Thought you had a girlfriend or boyfriend so I-"
"No, there's nobody," he rushed to say. "I'm just busy."
"Workaholic?" you guessed.
"Yeah," he admitted.
You moved towards him, slow, Carmy's blue eyes following the movement of your hips. You stood right in front of him, one hand raising to touch his arm, up his shoulder and then holding his face.
He blurted: "You're pretty."
"You're cute too," you replied, smiling.
You leaned forward and kissed him. Carmy returned the kiss, gentle, soft, your hands tangling in his hair. You parted for a second, eyes searching his, finding him flushed. It was only a second of hesitation before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close, kissing hungrily, his tongue touching yours, holding you tight like you were a lifeline - like he needed this as much as you did.
"Bedroom?" you asked breathily the moment he started kissing your neck.
He nodded and pushed you gently past the kitchen. It was a good thing he had a vague idea where it was.
You hit the edge of the mattress and leaned backwards, dragging him into bed with you, opening your legs to let him settle there. He kept kissing your jaw and collarbone, tickling your skin with his curls, humming while you raked your nails through his scalp. Suddenly, his hands moved from holding your waist to squeezing your ass; you tugged at his hair in surprise and Carmy let out a sound between a yelp and a moan. It made you melt and giggle, bringing him closer still.
Your hands moved down, tickling as they reached the hem of his shirt; Carmy sat up and removed it, desperate.
"Fuck," you muttered, your fingers tracing the lines and planes of his torso for a moment. He was gorgeous.
It had gotten way too hot inside the room and his touch was making you dizzy, so you got rid of your shirt too, a plain beige bra underneath. His fingers traced the edges of the cups, leaving goosebumps on your skin, making you sigh with pleasure. It wasn't enough, though.
"Wait," you gasped and he froze immediately.
"You alright?" he asked, looking up, like he was scared he had done something wrong.
You cupped his face gently. "I'm just taking it off," you giggled, letting go of his face to open the clasp and tug it down. "This isn't even a nice one," you lamented, thinking of a dark lace ensemble, used only once and with someone less enthusiastic about you than Carmy. Still, his eyes became impossibly wide once your bra was off.
"Shit," Carmy whispered, burying his face in the valley between your breasts, eager, leaving kisses everywhere, carefully sucking on your nipples. You arched your back and held him tighter, urging him to get closer - you wished he was a little rougher but the tender way that he was going about things was nice. You felt cared for.
Your hands went down his stomach, fingers hooking in his belt loops, tugging with need. He stopped for a moment, looking straight into your eyes.
"Do you want me to-?" he hesitated.
"We can just keep making out but I'd like you to fuck me," you said plainly. "If you want."
He nodded, dazed. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."
You tugged at his trousers, fighting with the belt buckle for a moment in your haste.
"Hold on. Let me," he said, getting rid of his slacks while you took both your jeans and underwear off at once. He gave you a wide eyed stare as he finally threw his boxer briefs carelessly to the floor.
The atmosphere was charged as you laid down facing each other.
Almost as if to break the tension, one of your hands reached out for his cock, caressing it, making him groan.
"So soft," you mumbled.
He rushed to touch you too, cupping your pussy. His fingers were shaking a little, which gave you pause. You touched his wrist, rubbing your thumb on his tattooed skin. He looked at you.
"Sorry, I'm uh-"
"Nervous?" you prompted and he nodded. "Yeah, same. I've had a dry spell of... Almost eight months. You?"
"Years," he said, clearing his throat.
"Fuck. That's tough," you said with a sympathetic smile, your hand letting go of his cock to caress his shoulder blade instead, reassuring. "How are you at following directions?"
"Honestly, pretty fucking great," he said with a nervous chuckle.
"We can work with that."
You grabbed his right hand, and took his middle finger in your mouth, sucking on it thoroughly, a shiver running down Carmy's spine. You guided his hand back between your folds, dragging it up the length of your cunt until the tip of his finger was right on your clit. You closed your eyes in pleasure, his long, calloused fingers feeling delicious on you.
"There," you said breathily.
"How?" Carmy asked.
"Circles."
Your eyes fluttered once he started moving, slow and feathery. Your hand caressed the head of his cock and the sudden touch made Carmy's hand stutter and then stop completely.
"You first," he mumbled, taking your hand and placing it on his chest instead.
"A gentleman," you joked breathily, tracing one of his tattoos with the tip of your nail. You were getting flustered again now that his finger was moving faster. "A little to your right... Fuck, that feels good, Carmy."
He offered you a wicked smile in return.
"Faster?" he asked.
You nodded, biting your lower lip.
"Keep doing it just like that. Don't change a fucking thing," you pleaded, moving closer, your leg over his hip to give him more access, holding tight to his shoulders. "Fuck, your hands! So good, so good, so good," you mumbled nonsensically into his ear and Carmy smiled wide. You started kissing him frantically, getting closer and closer. "Oh!"
You stiffened in his hold, legs shaking a little, and a long moan leaving your lips. His finger was still moving, helping you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm.
"You okay?" he asked after a minute.
"Yeah," you sighed, and leaned to kiss him, all tongue, lust drunk. "Thank you."
Your hand reached for his cock, finding it achingly hard, Carmy's eyes rolled back at the touch. He moaned. There was a lot of precum on his tip. Was all that from just hearing and seeing you?
"I'll probably fucking embarrass myself but I really wanna be inside you," Carmy managed breathily.
You smiled and grabbed a condom from your bedside table.
"Do you want me to put it on?" you asked when you saw him hesitate to take it out.
"Go ahead," he watched your hands roll the condom on, eyes wide as you held him. "Fuck."
He grabbed your leg and hoisted it back over his hip. "This okay?"
"Yeah," you sighed, guiding his cock inside you with one hand and holding his arm with the other. "I know it's been a while so don't worry if you don't last," you said.
Did you want Carmy to fuck you hard and long? Yes. But you were reasonable.
He nodded sheepishly, moving gently until he was completely buried inside you.
"Fuck, you're so warm," Carmy said, eyes closed in concentration. "So tight."
You chuckled against the side of his face, flushed and hot.
"You feel amazing too," you said, the stretch of your pussy delicious and satisfying. You kissed his temple and his cheek, already a little sweaty and salty. "You can move now."
He didn't need to be told twice. The slam of his hips was frantic from the beginning, feral sounds coming from his chest, it was exactly what you needed. You realized Carmy was probably working his shit out while fucking you but it didn't feel like he was using you at all. He was completely present: his eyes on your face, his mouth on your skin, and his hands caressing you.
"Are you good?" he asked.
"So fucking good," you replied, your recent orgasm leaving you sensitive and electrified. "You're already lasting longer than I thought you would," you said with a giggle.
"Fuck off," he said lightly.
Suddenly, you went back to the third or fourth time you had seen Carmy, crossing paths in the staircase, the primal part of your brain fantasizing about what it would be like to have sex with him, you on top, his strong hands holding your hips possessively. If this was a one time thing, you should make the most of it, right?
"Can I-? Fuck. Will you let me ride you, Carmy?" you said.
His pupils dilated with desire. "Yes. Fuck," he blurted out, rolling over almost immediately.
You settled on his hips, the angle doing wonders for you - his tip brushed your G spot and your clit touched the hair at the base of his cock.
"Fuck."
You took his hands and placed them over your hips, while you pressed your palms to his sculpted chest.
"You're so fucking hot. It's ridiculous," you said, wild with need. It made him blush down to his collarbones.
You kept your eyes on his as you lifted your hips, then sat back down on him.
"Holy shit," he gasped.
"Yeah?" you checked in.
"Yeah. Keep going," he pleaded.
And you did. You started building an undulating rhythm, Carmy's mouth was open and his brows were furrowed. His blue eyes took you in completely: the bounce of your breasts, the curve of your stomach, the way your torso arched with every stroke. His hands moved upwards, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples, unconsciously making you go faster and squeeze your cunt around his cock.
"Please," Carmy keened.
You felt him struggle, he was close.
"Hold on just a little bit," you whispered. "I'll make it good for you, Carmy."
He nodded, red in the face.
You began riding him hard and fast, the bed squeaking underneath you.
"Oh, fuck!" he moaned. "Fuck, shit, Jesus Christ..."
You went faster and faster until the string of curses leaving his lips became completely unintelligible and his body tensed underneath you.
"Come on," you leaned forward, your hair caressing his chest and your lips grazing his cheek. "Let go."
He came with a series of guttural groans, holding you tight as your hips kept moving, rutting into his, chasing the last remnants of pleasure you both could get.
He let out a long exhale and you dismounted, your thighs shaking at the effort.
"You okay?" he asked. He looked slightly embarrassed as he took off the condom and tied it up.
"Just a little sore," you reassured him, settling next to him on the mattress.
His hand caressed your thigh, trying to soothe the ache in some small way - the gesture made you melt inside a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, his face was sweaty and beautiful.
"What do you do for a living?" you asked.
"I'm a chef," Carmy replied simply.
"Huh. I would have guessed tattoo artist," you said honestly, a finger tracing the ink on his forearm.
"I get that," he gave you a soft smile. "You?"
"I work at a bookstore."
"Makes sense," he hummed, eyeing the packed bookshelves in your room and the small piles of books on your bedside table. You stayed in silence for a while, just caressing each other, his fingers tracing pictures on your thighs. "That was amazing," he said.
"Yeah," you agreed, giddy. Your orgasm must have given you courage because you heard yourself saying: "Wanna do it again sometime?"
Carmy turned to look at you, slightly alarmed, like everything that had happened was a dream and he was suddenly awake. For a second, you were scared that he would bolt out of your bed and your apartment.
"I'm not good with relationships," he said in the end.
"Oh! No, I meant the sex bit," you smiled. "I'm not looking for a relationship either."
You weren't. Your life was enough of a fucking mess without some guy that could upend it by cheating on you or knocking you up.
"Hey, no need to say yes. I'm a big girl, I can take no for an answer," you reassured him.
He rolled over and kissed you hard.
"Yes, I want to do this again."
~
Carmy had left without waking you the morning after you fucked, scribbling a note on a napkin: "Early morning at the restaurant. See you soon? C."
You didn't see him for a few days though, not even a glimpse as you crossed each other in the hallway, but you hadn't stopped thinking about him - his hands, his eyes, the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you... You thought about him while you touched yourself late that following night, gasping his name as you came.
It was a relief then to see him about to knock on your door two nights later, takeaway container in hand, as you climbed up the stairs.
"Carmy," you said fondly.
"Oh!" He turned with wide eyes. "I just wanted to- Would you like to come over for some food?"
You beamed. "Did you make it?"
"Sort of," he shrugged. "It's- uh- leftovers from the restaurant. They're good though."
"Well, how can I say no to leftovers?" you teased and followed him inside his apartment.
It was the same floor plan as yours, only mirrored, and with less stuff - a lot less.
"You sure you live here?" you asked, eyeing the empty, stark rooms.
"Yeah," he chuckled. "I don't spend much time in it, though."
Carmy warmed up the food and placed it carefully on two plates, it looked like he was making an effort to be casual about it.
"What kind of restaurant do you work in?" you asked as he handed you a plate. "It smells delicious, by the way."
"Uh, fine dining," he said absently, guiding you to the couch. "You like risotto? Didn't think to ask, sorry."
"It's okay," you shrugged, taking a forkful and almost immediately moaning in delight. "Shut the fuck up! You made this?"
Carmy blushed and looked down. "We never do portions this big but I figured you'd be hungry," he said.
"You thought correctly," you said, swaying a little from how good the food was. It made him give you an endeared look. "Thank you."
"It's nothing," he insisted.
You kept eating in comfortable silence.
"Truly one of the best meals I've had," you said earnestly once you were finished.
Carmy took your clean plate and his half finished one to the kitchen, coming back to sit beside you.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"Fine," you said, half turning in your seat to take a good look at him. "Sales wise it was shit, according to my manager, but one little girl told me I was cool, so..."
He smiled wide. "Did she get anything?"
"Well, she wanted a book on planets and space. Her parents wanted to buy her an encyclopedia of some sort. It was for kids but still..." you scrunched your nose. "It took some convincing but her parents finally caved in."
"I think she was right," he said softly.
"Mmm?"
"I think you're pretty cool," he said, leaning over to kiss you.
It was gentle, measured, lovely.
"And you?" you asked when you parted. "How was your day?"
Something dark clouded over Carmy's face. "Let's not talk about my day," he rasped and then kissed you hard.
It was wild, hungry, needy.
You scooted closer to Carmy, running your fingers through his hair, humming in pleasure as his tongue touched yours. The angle was weird, and so you climbed over the couch, aiming to straddle his hips but settling on his thigh by accident. He bit on your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.
"Fuck, Carmy," you blurted out.
His lips started kissing the length of your neck, down your collarbone, over your shirt. You took the hint and took your shirt off, proud that your bra was a little nicer than last time.
"Shit," he mumbled, kissing your breasts, up the cup, and through the lace.
You started grinding on his clothed thigh to relieve the ache between your legs, moaning every few thrusts.
"Is that good?" he asked breathily.
"Yeah," you sighed.
You could feel every seam of your jeans against his muscled thigh. If you weren't so horny, maybe you would feel a little embarrassed about dry humping your neighbor like a fucking teenager but Carmy didn't seem to mind - if anything, he seemed to like it. He held tight to your hips and angled his leg upward so that it would rub against your crotch easier, his eyes marveling at the way your body moved.
"You look so fucking hot," he mumbled into your skin. "Been thinking about you for days... About fucking you again... Making you feel good..."
You had always been a sucker for praise and there was something about Carmy saying nice things on that dirty tone that made you melt.
"Yeah?" you held his face, tilting it so he could look at you. "I've been touching myself thinking of you. Been making myself come thinking of your fingers on my clit and your cock inside me."
"Fuck," he uttered, mouth agape. After a moment of just staring at you, he surged forward and kissed you, mouth open, passionate. The crotch of your jeans was soaked with your arousal, wetting Carmy's slacks too. His hands on your hips urged you to go faster, to get your release.
"Close?" he asked.
You moaned needily into his mouth as a response.
Carmy slid the straps of your bra downwards,
not bothering to open it, and he took one of your nipples in his mouth and the other between his fingers.
"Shit! Fuck!" you cursed, the tightness in your belly snapping while you kept grinding on Carmy's thigh. He left soft kisses on the skin of your chest and caressed your waist while you came down from your high.
"So hot," he mumbled. "So fucking hot."
You giggled, and caressed his face not knowing what to say. You moved to straddle him properly, eager to feel his hardness against your core. He groaned.
"Do you wanna fuck me?" you asked flirtatiously, your palm touching right over his erection.
Carmy rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I do," he panted. "Fuck."
You leaned downward, kissing the side of his neck and face. "Where do you keep your condoms?"
He froze.
"Shit."
You sat back, an incredulous look on your face.
"Carmy, really?"
He was flushed with embarrassment. "Even if I had one, it would be expired."
"I'll go get one from my apartment," you said. When you tried to get up, his strong hands kept your hips in place.
"Stay," he pleaded.
"Carmy, you're cute as fuck but no," you declared, rearranging the straps of your bra. "It's just across the hall."
"Wait, wait. I didn't mean we should do it without-" he searched for your gaze. "I meant I don't want you to leave, that's all. We don't have to do anything tonight."
"Oh."
"Yeah," he exhaled, arching his neck to kiss you sweetly.
You giggled. "Next time I come over there better condoms."
"Definitely," he agreed.
You kept making out for a while, his calloused hands tracing pictures on your back, and his tongue touching yours gently. You moved forward a little and pressed on his erection accidentally. He let out a loud groan.
"Sorry," you apologized. "There's something we can do," you said softly, undoing his belt and the buttons of his slacks. "Can I touch you?"
"Yes."
You took his cock in your hand, spreading his precum down the length of it. Your other hand went inside your jeans, gathering arousal to use as lube. Carmy shivered underneath you.
"What do you like?" you asked, pumping his cock slowly, watching Carmy's chest move quicker as you did.
"The tip, with your thumb," he managed. You did as he asked, swiping over his slit, once. He nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah, when I'm close I do that. And just fast. I like it fast."
"Would you let me start slow, though?"
He smiled, running a hand through his messed up hair. "Yeah."
You tortured him a little, to be honest.
You caressed every ridge and vein on his cock, lovingly, slowly, and you kissed his lips through it, swallowing his moans.
"Fuck, it never feels this way," he praised. "So good."
"I'm going to go faster now, the way you like it, okay?"
He nodded desperately. "Please."
You pumped him as fast as you could, watching him become a mess under you, rolling his eyes and shaking.
"Fuck, I'm close," he keened.
You kept on that frantic rhythm with one hand and caressed his head with the other, like he told you. In seconds he was coming all over your hand and forearm, some droplets falling on your belly and chest. You were a goddamn mess but so was Carmy - his eyes unfocused and an absent smile on his face.
"Good?" you asked proudly.
"Tremendous," he chuckled and moved to kiss you holding you tight to his body.
"Careful, I've got- uh-" you giggled, gesturing at the stripes of cum all over your right side.
"Fuck, didn't think about that, wait."
He took his shirt off and wiped you clean with it, kissing you deeply once he was done. He dragged you to lie on the couch with him.
"Sorry about the mess," he apologized.
"Sex is messy," you shrugged.
"Guess I don't have much experience on the subject," Carmy said absently.
"I find it hard to believe with the way you look," you flirted, caressing the muscles of his arm.
"What if- uh- what if I told you you are my first?" he said.
"As in the first person you had sex with?" you confirmed.
He nodded.
"I'd find it even harder to believe," you said, tracing the contours of his face with your finger, the arch of his nose. "But I'd thank you for telling me."
Carmy smiled with relief and kissed you again.
"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.
"Sure."
"When you came thinking of me, what were you doing?"
You blushed and covered your face, the reality of what you had said hitting just now.
"Uh," you hesitated, "well, I was fucking my fingers."
"Would you show me?"
You turned to look at him, his eyes were dark and dead serious.
"Fuck, Carmy," you exhaled. "I thought you were wiped out and this was your idea of pillow talk."
"Oh, I'm wiped the fuck out," he agreed. "It just seems like you aren't," he added with a smile.
You smirked. "Alright."
With your eyes on his, you unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down your legs along with your underwear, both still wet with your arousal. You opened your legs, one dangling over the edge of the couch and the other pressed against Carmy's body. His hand hooked under the bend of your knee, holding you, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. You shivered.
Carmy's eyes followed your hand as it rested on your mound, your middle and ring fingers going easily inside your cunt with how wet you were.
"Fuck," he said, entranced, watching your fingers go in, knuckle by knuckle.
You arched your back and moaned. Every feeling was heightened by having Carmy watch you. You started curling your fingers inside you, brushing your G spot, gasping. Then, you began thrusting your fingers in and out, your hips chasing the feeling too. Before you could get too carried away, Carmy touched your arm, his fingers closing on the wrist that was giving you pleasure.
"Can I?" he asked.
"Yes," you panted, your cunt clenching at the thought of his calloused hands.
You took your fingers out with a wince. His middle finger traced the contour of your clit, making you shiver and giggle nervously.
"Tell me if I'm fucking up," he said shyly.
"Yes." You kissed the side of his face, encouraging him as his index poked at your entrance. "Little lower. Yes."
He had no trouble fitting in one finger with how wet you were. The second one was a tighter fit.
"Slow, slow," you instructed him, humming with pleasure at the stretch, grabbing at his bicep once every knuckle was inside you. "Fuck..."
He curled his fingers inside you, caressing your walls gently. You let out a loud moan when he touched your G spot.
"Oh! Is that-?" he asked. "It feels different."
"Yeah," you whined because he stopped. "Keep going, Carmy, please."
"Right, right, sorry," he chuckled and continued, his long fingers reaching the depths of you, growing more confident and bolder in their movements.
One of your hands was leaving crescent moon imprints on his bicep - your nails digging in his flesh as your pleasure grew.
"My clit, touch my clit, please," you begged and he rushed to press his thumb on it, circling it, your body responding immediately, arching and clenching.
When you opened your eyes, something proud was coloring Carmy's features.
"Keep going, you're doing so good, making me feel so fucking good, Carmy," you mumbled, burying your face in his neck, panting. Your words made him go faster and a little rougher. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come."
Your voice was so whiny you didn't recognize it but you couldn't concentrate on that, not when Carmy was three knuckles deep inside you, hitting your G spot with every stroke, breathing hard against your skin.
"Are you gonna think about this the next time you touch yourself?" he rasped and you unraveled, seeing stars while you rutted against his hand, drowning your moans on his shoulder, grabbing the cushions of his couch like they were the only thing keeping you grounded.
"You okay?" Carmy asked after what felt like a long time, though probably it only was a couple of minutes. Your cunt was still throbbing deliciously around his fingers.
"I'm perfect," you sighed, grabbing his face for a messy kiss.
"Wiped out?" he asked.
"Not sure I'll be able to walk back to my apartment actually," you giggled, eyes half lidded. "You are truly incredible at following instructions," you teased.
"Told you," he played along, kissing your shoulder gently as he took out his fingers. "You can sleep over if you want," he offered.
"Nah, I need to take a shower," you sighed, a little sad that you had to get rid of the smell of Carmy and sex. You grabbed your shirt and underwear from the floor. "I'll sleep here next time," you promised.
"Next time?" Carmy asked, watching you get up and get dressed.
"Yeah, next time," you insisted flirtatiously. "When you buy condoms."
He laughed.
You leaned downward to kiss him sweetly.
"Thank you. It was good, so good," you said earnestly.
"Fuck. You were amazing too," he replied.
You walked to the door. "Good night, Carmy."
"Good night."
~
You were brushing your hair in front of the bathroom mirror, fresh out of the shower, warm and relieved after a long day. An insistent knock on your door made you roll your eyes in irritation.
"Who is it?"
"Carmy!"
Your heart raced a little and you smiled. You opened the door and sure enough, there he was, disheveled and beautiful, wrapped up in his wool coat.
"Hello," you said with a shy smile.
"Didn't mean to interrupt," Carmy said, gesturing vaguely at your wet hair and bathrobe. You rearranged it and he blushed a little - which was terribly endearing considering he had seen your pussy up close not even a week ago.
"You're not interrupting anything," you replied. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out and touched his cheek, red from the cold. "You're freezing. Want to come in? I can make us some tea."
"Yeah, that would be nice," he walked in behind you, toed off his shoes, left his coat on the couch, and followed you inside the kitchen.
"Chamomile?"
"Sure."
You went through the preparations in silence, there was a sigh of relief once he grabbed the mug you were offering and held it between his hands.
"You okay?" you asked, leaning on the counter and taking a sip of your tea. "Bad day?"
"Always," Carmy replied and some part of you knew he wasn't joking.
"I'm sorry," you said softly. "Is it really that bad inside a kitchen?"
"Whatever you're imagining, it's ten times worse," he rasped. "Twenty if you have an asshole for a boss."
"And do you?"
"Oh, yeah. The worst," he took a big gulp of tea - you were almost certain he had burnt his tongue with it.
"Then why do you do it?" you tilted your head, searching for his eyes.
"It's- It's- " he hesitated. "It's everything. It's a way of communicating, it's taking care of other people, it's beautiful and complex..."
"And you love it," you concluded.
"I do. Yeah," Carmy ended with a heavy sigh.
"Wait here," you said, handing him your mug, padding to your bedroom and coming back with a coffee table book. "Here," you exchanged your mug for the hardcover and sat on the counter.
Carmy took it and looked at it carefully. It was a book on fine dining - pages and pages of beautifully plated dishes from different restaurants in Europe.
"This is so cool," he flipped through the pages. "I worked here," he said, beaming.
"Did you learn how to make that dish?" you asked.
"Yeah, must have the recipe somewhere... Thanks for showing me this," he said after a while, taking the book and handing it back to you.
You shook your head. "That's yours."
"I can't take it," Carmy refused.
"Yes, you can," you insisted. "A friend gave it to me as a house warming present and I never even opened it. You would be doing me a favor," when you saw Carmy was about to argue some more you doubled down. "Do I look like I need more books in here?"
He chuckled and shook his head, placing the book on the table, giving in.
He walked towards you. "Thanks. I mean it."
"You're very welcome," you said earnestly when he leaned in to kiss you.
Carmy nuzzled the side of your face, then down your neck.
"You smell amazing," he said softly. "Coconut."
"That's my conditioner," you smiled and held him closer.
"Lavender, rosemary," he mumbled into your collarbone.
"My body wash."
He already had you gasping for breath as he kept kissing you, standing between your legs, pulling you closer by the bend of the knee. He ran his tattooed hands up and down your thighs, his finger tips still a little cold.
"Can I taste you?"
"Yes. Please."
Carmy knelt before you, something dark and hungry coming to life in your belly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. He opened up your robe and found you bare. Then, he started peppering kisses up and down the insides of your thighs, kneading your ass in his hands, getting you flustered without even touching your cunt.
"Let me know when it's good, alright? Like last time," Carmy said against the skin of your thigh, you could feel his face warming up.
"Yeah. Though you're already doing better than my last two boyfriends, Carm," you said lightly, caressing his hair.
He chuckled against your skin and the whisper of air between your legs made you shiver.
The tip of his tongue caressed your folds, gently, teasing. You hummed softly, closing your eyes. Then, he flattened his tongue, going up your cunt several times, faster and faster, lapping at your entrance, getting a taste of your arousal and humming in response.
"Shit," you managed.
"Mhmm?" he checked in, not letting go of you.
"Yes," you moaned louder. "It's good."
He kissed his way up your clit, rubbing his nose on it before he started licking at it diligently.
"Suck on it, please. Oh, fuck. Fuck," you arched your back. "Can you- Shit, Carmy- Can you put your fingers inside me?" you pleaded.
He let go for a moment, his mouth and your arousal making a lewd sound as he parted. His middle finger traced around your cunt, gathering wetness before going inside you in one swift thrust.
"Yes. Perfect."
"Another?" you looked into Carmy's eyes, he was flushed and giddy.
You nodded and his index finger joined the middle, a smirk curving his wet lips when he made you moan with a simple curl of his fingers.
"You're a menace," you teased and he laughed.
"Keep looking at me," he said, going back between your legs, eyes on you as he continued sucking your clit.
"Fuck, that feels good," you were breathing hard, fingers tugging on Carmy's curls, your bathrobe completely undone. He moaned hard when your pussy clenched on his fingers, the vibration making you shiver with pleasure.
"You're making me feel so good, Carmy," you praised breathlessly, one of your hands squeezing your breast unconsciously. "I'm close." He arched an eyebrow, questioning. "A little faster. Fuck me with your fingers."
He started pumping his fingers in and out of you, fast, while his lips sucked on your clit frantically, wet noises turning you on even more.
"Just like that, just like that," you moaned. "Keep going, please, please, please..."
You kept looking at him, seeing his eyes shut in pleasure when you fluttered around his knuckles. Your orgasm hit you hard and had you screaming and thrusting against his face before you could stop - his strong arms kept you in place.
"Oh, my God," you keened as he kept going, prolonging your orgasm until it was almost too much to bear, senseless praise flowing freely from your lips. "You're so fucking good, Carm. Make me feel so good."
Everything was warm, white and fuzzy.
Carmy stopped his movements abruptly. You felt him groan needily against your cunt, turning his face to bite on the flesh of your thigh. Looking down, you realized he was palming his cock over his slacks. He had come to the sound and the taste of you.
You tugged on his hair to get him up on his feet and kiss him. His lips were red and swollen, and his tongue tasted like you. When you parted, you saw a satisfied and sedated look on his face.
"Never had a guy do that."
"Eat you out?" he asked, disoriented. His hair was a fucking mess.
You ran your hands through his curls lovingly. "No. Make me cum that hard. Enjoy eating me out that much."
"It was hard not to," Carmy replied. "The fucking sounds you make..."
You hid your face in his shoulder, cheeks burning red.
"I'll try to be quiet next time."
"Please don't," he rasped, tilting your head to kiss you hard.
Hello, I really like your chef Luca work. I was wondering if you you write something where Luca is protective of the reader in their day to day life, and when she gets into a car accident in the middle of service on a Friday night, she asks EMS to call the restaurant instead of Luca because she doesn’t want him to leave service for her (he can get kinda mad not really about it later). Richie is the one who answers the phone and has some type of protective reaction as well (Richie being Richie), whether or not he tells Luca during or after service is up to you. And maybe for the extra angst reader is in surgery by the time Luca gets to the hospital?
i appreciate your request and i loved the idea. (ily richie) here you go, gumpy! xo
Call the Restaurant
Luca x f!reader
synopsis: You’ve always been the type to downplay your needs — especially during a rush. Even dating Luca doesn’t change that.
rating: 16+
word count:1k
a/n: love the idea! (ps. sorry for taking so long)
——————————————————————————
You’re the kind of person who brushes things off.
Spilled coffee? No big deal.
Snide comment? Whatever.
Twisted ankle on the way to work? You’ll limp your way through prep.
So when the SUV runs the red light — when you feel the jolt of impact in your ribs, when your face hits the window — your first thought isn’t pain. It’s panic.
Not only because you’re hurt.
Because it’s Friday night and it was Luca’s special day of pastries, and he probably was in the middle of service.
He was excited all week trying new recipes to present to the restaurant, he couldn't sleep well and you were the one who calmed him down.
So when the paramedics find your phone and ask, “Do you want us to call someone?”
You shake your head and mutter, “Call the restaurant i work in... please."
“Ma'am, is there someone more accesible? A family member?"
“No. Just the restaurant. Please.” You say softly before passing out.
⸻
Richie’s the one who picks up. Of course he is.
“Beef, what?” he snaps, barely audible over the noise. There’s shouting in the background — tickets flying, pans hitting steel, someone cursing in Spanish.
“This is EMS. We’re calling from University Hospital. One of your employees was in a car accident.”
He goes quiet. Fast.
“Who?”
“She didn’t want us to call her emergency contact. She said to call here instead.”
“What happened?”
“She’s stable, but it was a T-bone impact. She lost consciousness for a moment, so they’re taking her into surgery —”
Richie cuts him off. “Wait. Surgery?!”
“Her arm is broken so we have to —”
“I’m coming. Don’t — fuck, okay, hang on.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then, under his breath:
“ I know she’s gonna kill me if I tell him.” He watched as Luca is stirring a mixture in a bowl
Luca doesn’t find out until after service.
Richie’s pacing by the lockers, jacket already on, but not leaving. He looks up when he sees Luca.
“Hey.”
Luca frowns. “What?”
Richie runs a hand over his face, clearly wrestling with something. Then he mutters, “She got into an accident.”
Luca freezes.
“She’s in the hospital. They called during service. I was gonna— I was gonna tell you but—”
“Where is she?”
“University.”
Luca’s already moving.
Richie follows, yelling after him, “She told the EMTs not to call you directly, bro! She didn’t want you to leave service—”
Luca stops in the middle of the alley and turns.
And for once, his voice is sharp. Not loud. But sharp.
“She’s in surgery, Richie.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t call me.”
“I know.”
They stare at each other.
“She didn’t want you to worry,” Richie says finally. “You know how she is.”
Luca swears under his breath. His hands are already shaking. Not with anger just fear.
You’re not awake when he gets there.
The waiting room is beige and far too quiet. Luca checks in, finds your name, gets the room number — but they won’t let him in yet.
“She’s still in surgery,” the nurse says gently. “You can wait here.”
So he does.
For thirty-six minutes, he stares at a blank wall. He thinks about your laugh. Your bare feet on the kitchen floor in the morning. How you hum under your breath when you think no one’s listening.
He thinks about the fact that you didn’t call him.
And he gets it — he gets it — but he hates it too.
Because you’re his.
And you didn’t give him the chance to show up.
You wake up sometime after midnight.
Groggy. Sore. Eyes bleary with pain meds.
Luca’s sitting beside your bed. Elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’s praying. His coat is still on. There’s a cup of vending machine coffee on the floor, untouched.
You stir.
He looks up instantly.
“Hey,” you rasp, voice thin.
He’s quiet. Just stares at you. Eyes tired. Shoulders tense.
“Hi,” you say again, softer.
He nods once. Then leans back in his chair.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You blink. Not because you’re surprised by the question — but because you were hoping he’d pretend.
You shift slightly, wincing at the ache. “Didn’t want to ruin your night.”
He exhales through his nose.
“Didn’t want you to leave service,” you mumble.
“That’s what you think I’d care about?”
You glance away.
He runs a hand over his face. Sits forward. Voice quieter now.
“You were in a fucking accident. You’re in a hospital bed. You really think I’d be mad about service?”
You don’t answer so he leans closer.
“I don’t care if it’s two hours before doors open or during a ten-top with influencers. I don’t care if I’m plating the final course of a Michelin inspection.”
His voice softens.
“If you need me — I go. That’s it. I go.”
You look at him then. Really look at him.
He’s not mad because you got hurt. He’s mad because you didn’t let him be there. Because he was scared.
And because he loves you.
You try to speak, but your throat closes. So instead, you whisper:
“I didn’t want to be the reason you got distracted.”
He exhales sharply. Almost laughs — but not with humor.
“You are distracting,” he says. “You always are. That’s what being in love with someone means.”
Your breath catches.
He squeezes your hand gently. Not tightly. Just enough that you feel him.
“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.
You nod. Eyes burning.
“I promise.”
⸻
The doctor clears you a few days later. They tell you to rest.
Luca doesn’t leave your side.
He stocks your fridge. Adjusts your pillows. Doesn’t let you carry anything. Even sits on the floor next to your couch when you fall asleep midday with your head propped on the armrest.
One night, you wake up to find him asleep in the chair next to your bed. Arms folded, chin tucked, the kind of deep sleep that only happens when someone’s completely worn out.
You reach for him.
And this time — you don’t hesitate.
You whisper his name.
And when he stirs, and sees you awake, you smile softly.
