#carmy🫣

[viareblogsstuff]

oh my GODDDDDDDDDD

you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot. 

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way. 

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway. 

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

“Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure. 

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin��� you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again. 

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin. 

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease. 

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping. 

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper. 

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

[katiethelmie]

Monday mornings are for dreaming

[lovelikeafuneral]

monday mood

[gahdamnit]

ao3 sydcarmy writers you are gods gift to this world for preparing me for all this angst and getting me very excited. carmy resorting to his emp ways. sydneys snark and contempt. the partnership agreement. sydney contemplating the agreement. “so that you can push me and I can push you.” sydney at nat and pete’s house. berzatto in laws: sydney and pete interacting. the tension between sydcarmy in the kitchen. “if it’s not perfect it doesn’t go out.” sydney shaking the hand of the cdc from ever’s. “why are you doing this” “we’re gonna get a star” “i thought that was a trap”. “you need to calm down” “this is what you wanted right” AND THAT FUCKING LOOK. its straight out of a fanfic.

[viareblogsstuff]

perfect perfect perfect

CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.” 

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder. 

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call. 

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…” 

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline. 

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

[scenedenial]

Hiiii would love to see some carmrich or POSSIBLY EVEN sydcarmrich👀 feelings realization art or even drabbles etc…squeezing past each other in tight spaces brushing hands completing each other’s sentences seeing each other in formal clothes for the first one ETC!!!

tight spaces you say….. muahaha

[aesthetic-bbyg]

Carmy Berzatto blurb

UNLIKE HE’D USUALLY DO IN HIS TYPICAL chef ways, yelling behind/corner whenever moving around the kitchen, your warning was a light touch on your hip or back. If his hands are free then they’d both fall onto your hips, before detaching themselves as he left. If one hand was occupied you’d still feel the brush his palm on your lower back. If someway both his hands were busy then he’d call out the words.

“Behind, babe.” He muttered, the air of his quickly moving figure blowing by before you could even think about turning back to look at him.

“How fuckin’ sweet.” Richie commented, picking up the next line of orders for table 6. “I get fuckin’ crucified for the smallest thing, and you get the special treatment.”

“Don’t be jealous, Rich.” You reply, giving him a sly grin and handing him the last dish for the table. That completed the entrees meaning you could remove one of the many tickets lined up for the night.

“You two make me sick.” He walked backwards, pushing the door into the dining area open slowly. “Sick, I tell ya.”

“What’s he talking about?” Carmy questioned softly, walking next to you and immediately getting into the zone despite the shift between jobs. On some nights he stuck to one role, on others he liked to move around, to inspect and watch.

“Nothin’ that had to worry you for the night.” You smile gently, looking over at him with an adoring gaze.

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded back, leaning up to peck his lips as an extra form reason not to worry.

okay maybe I’m a lil late w the bear fics but I was struck with this idea and had to get it off my chest.🫣

[viareblogsstuff]

DELECTABLE

My brain is rotting with the concept of Carmy sending you a video of him jerking off ( @wtfsteveharrington is to blame for this)

Currently, Carmen is in New York for a chefs conference. He can’t get you off his mind, and he’s missing your warm body in bed next to him. It doesn’t help that he just woke up at 2am with a massive hard-on.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles to himself, reaching for the switch to the lamp on the bedside table. He grabs his phone next. With shaky hands, he opens the camera app on his phone, switching to video mode. He clicks the start button.

Carmy’s lower half is still underneath the blanket as the video begins. He’s breathing heavy as he trails his right hand from the top of his sternum to the waist band of his underwear. He kicks the blankets off, exposing the growing bulge in his briefs.

Carmy’s not going to let himself get camera shy now, so he acts like he’s talking to you. “W-woke up like this—“ he breaths. His keeps his movements slow, letting his palm drift down to his covered dick. He applies gentle pressure, which makes his hips twitch.

“I wish you could have come here with me. Know you’d take care of this.” He grips himself harder, forcing a choked groan to leave his lips. Carmy can’t keep this up; he needs to get a hand on his throbbing cock. His thumb hooks into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down. The camera angle shakes while he shoves them down his hips.

When the video steadies and focuses, it’s on his exposed cock. Carmy breaths deeply as his cock twitches, precum oozing from his tip. “Shit—I’m already leaking. See what you do to me, sweetheart? Just thinking about you gets me hard like a fucking teenager.”

Carmy’s hand disappears from the frame for a moment, but it’s obvious from the sound of spitting what he’s doing. Once his hand enters the frame again, now covered in saliva, he wastes no time and grabs his cock.

Honestly, he probably doesn’t need the extra lubrication with how much he’s dripping, but Carmy wants to replicate the feeling of your soaked cunt as best as he can with his hand. “W-wish I was with you. Know you’d be so fucking wet and warm around me.”

Carmy starts with a slow and calculated pace. His palm grips his dick as tight as possible without it being unpleasurable. On each up stroke, he applies additional pressure to make the pre drip down the head of his cock.

He’s making the most erotic sounds, a mix a raspy groans and needy whines. His abs flex while he pants, desperate for air. “Shit—baby. Miss you, pretty girl.” He fists his cock quicker, now, barely able to keep his hips on the bed. Carmy gives in and lets his hips work in tandem with his hand. “M’gonna fuck you so good when I get back—just-just like this—shit. You won’t be able to walk straight—“

It’s borderline hedonistic, the way his hips roll into his hand. Carmy’s completely unabashed. “S’good f’me. Feels s’good,” he mumbles like you’re actually there with him and not hundreds of miles away. The veins in his forearm clearly bulge out from the effort. There’s no telling how obscene the look on his face is right now.

It’s clear he’s nearing his peak from the way he’s whimpering. Small sounds and gasps leave his lips incessantly. His palm moves at a rapid pace, growing more sloppier by the second. A sharp, wanton whine escapes him before he murmurs. “Mmm, baby. Close—fuck. So fucking close, baby. Shit—gonna— m’gonna cum for you. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His cock pulses as cum spills all over his abdomen. Carmy’s hips continue to fuck his hand through his orgasm as he whimpers with every spurt of cum. There’s no coherency to his sounds; only carnal moans escape him.

He continues to fist his cock until he’s milked himself dry. Carmy’s painted with cum; it’s all over him. His white-covered abs rise and fall rapidly while he catches his breath. Finally, he lets go of his cock with a groan.

Carmy looks at himself through the video on his phone and chuckles lowkey. “Made a mess didn’t I?” His hand falls to his stomach. He traces out your first initial in the pool of white before letting his palm smear the cum across his abs.

After a moment, he spreads his fingers in front of the camera, showing the ropes of cum sticking to his hand. His voice is gravelly as he speaks.“Fuck. Guess I need to go hop in the shower. See you soon, baby.”

[andiberzatto]

would love to see your take on something where reader has an oral fixation. and they just need carmys fingers in their mouth when there having s*x especially when she is about to finish. and he knows this about her and always makes sure to take care of her in this way. thank youuuu!!! love your writing btw 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Soooo I might’ve got a little carried awayyyyyyy😋🫣 this is so…ugh- I picture like you come back from university and Carmy needs you so bad. He’s possessive and jealous imagining you at college parties surrounded by boys all semester so when he gets you alone when you’re finally home he’s dirty and teasing and dominating and UGH-

NOTE BEFORE READING : contained Dword Carmy and teasing and taunting.

Carmy watches you drool on his thick fingers, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. He curls his fingers slightly pushing them deeper into your mouth to encourage more drooling, “look at you so content with daddy’s fingers in your mouth..”

He smirks darkly as you hum contentedly. “That’s just how I want you- pacified and mindless with pleasure. Those college boys.. they never did this for you huh? Never made you act like such a pretty drooling slut?”

You nod softly with his fingers still in your mouth.

He gently pets your face with his free hand, keeping his pointer and middle finger lodged in your mouth. “Such a good girl, sucking on my fingers so sweetly. Those college boys never saw you like this huh? Never saw you dependent on my cock or fingers, practically fucking drooling.” He taunts her.

Your eyes flutter at the praise, fuck it’s so hot when carmy got like this with her after she’d come back from university. Wanting and needing to show her just how much she needed him like he needed her. Showing her he can’t be replaced.

He notices your reaction and his expression softens with understanding- you’re absolutely starved for his attention and dominance. “Are you getting wet just from having my fingers in your pretty mouth?” He pushes his fingers softly, watching your eyes roll.

You moan softly, your hips squirm softly from where he has you pressed against the wall in his apartment. You didn’t even make it to the bed.

His lips curl into a wicked smirk as he registers your desperate attempt. He slips his fingers out of your mouth slowly, letting them pop free with a saliva slick sound. “Looks like daddy found his girl’s weakness..” he taunts knowing she will whine about the lost contact.

Your lips stay parted as she chases his fingers reaching to grab his wrist, “no!” She blushes softly realizing she yelled, “sorry… I just”

He holds his hand out of reach, teasingly.

She pouts, “please can I have them back…”

Carmy smirks at your pouty lips and pleading tone, instead of putting them back he traces your bottom lip. He could be so cruel sometimes in the best ways. “You can get my fingers back as soon as you sit on my lap like a good girl…”

He stands back and walks to the bed, sitting down and patting his lap softly. To which you don’t deny, you strip down to nothing but your knee socks and straddle his lap.

He smiles softly, teasing her center with his fingers before putting them in her mouth. “Open up, baby. Suck my fingers clean for me.” His other hand coming to support your waist as you stay on his lap. He groans at the sight and feeling of your warm mouth on his fingers again, tasting yourself. He can feel your body relaxing and your eyes growing heavy and unfocused as you fall into a submissive state. “Fuck… baby…”

Carmen slowly slips two fingers inside you as you suck on his other two on his hand adorned with “SOU” on the knuckle. The faded traditional lettering barely peaking under your lips. He feels you tensing, ready to break and come undone.

You come hard, drooling around his fingers as he pumps his other hand to help you ride it out.

He growls possesively, watching as you shake and convulse. Clamping down on his fingers, as he continues to pump into you prolonging your orgasm as you drool and whimper around his fingers, “that’s it princess… I got you… daddy’s here…”

His baby is now limp and sated on his lap, sucking mindlessly on his fingers like a pacifier. He smirks softly petting your hair back from your face, “you did so good for me…” he mumbles against her hair, he can feel your cheeks still hollowed out from sucking and the drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

You tap his belt softly asking if he’s gonna have you sit on his cock too, never stopping the suction on his fingers.

He grins, amused and aroused by your wordless request. He shifts slightly using one hand to undo his belt and jeans while keeping his fingers where they are at home in your mouth. “Such a smart girl…” he manages to slide his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. “Thats right baby… I’m gonna give you what you need.”

You straddle him again, and he holds himself with his free hand to stabilize his cock so you can ease yourself on him.

His baby is now fully sat on his lap, his thick cock deep inside you and your mouth stretched around his fingers. He realizes his knuckles are touching your lips, making you look even more stuffed and filled. He growls softly finding this view incredibly hot.

He watches your pleased gaze and nods, understanding the unspoken need. He keeps his fingers firmly in place as he starts to move his hips with measured thrusts. Each upward grind pushes him inside you completely til his pelvis bone rubs your clit eliciting muffled moans around his fingers.

Youre too far gone to ride him, just wanting to sit and suck his fingers while he fucks into you.

He sees the glazed look in your eyes and knows you’re completely lost in pleasure. He takes control, his hips moving faster and more forcefully. Each thrust deliberately hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll. The sound of your muffled whined around his fingers spur him on, he wraps an arm around your waist pulling you close and lifting slightly so he can pound into you.

He can see the barely there gaze, the way your eyes struggle to stay open as you get closer to the edge. He loves breaking you down like this, reducing you to a whimpering, drooling mess on his lap. His pace is almost brutal his hips snapping up to meet your sitting position. He can feel your pussy fluttering around his cock, knowing you’re on edge. “Cum for me baby… please”

He feels your climax hit you like a tidal wave, your walls squeezing him tight rhythmically. The sight of you completely shattered on his cock, drool trickling down your chin, and those barely conscious eyes push him right over the edge after you, “fuck! You’re such a good girl…”

“That’s it baby…such a pretty little mess for me. Look at you cumming all over my cock..” he continues to fuck you through your mutual orgasm, prolonging it for both of you.

ANYWAYSSSS, SOOOOO I HOPE THIS MEETS YOUR VISION. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ANGEL BABY<33333

[carmenberzattosgf]

Carmy trying to make reader squirt 🤭 it somehow comes up casually and reader is like “oh yeah lol it happened to me once a few years ago but idk how the hell I did it” and Carmy just like short circuits 💀 then he hyperfixates on it for 3 days and when he finally has some time off bro is DETERMINED to make reader do it again. Like brows furrowed in concentration. Fingering them like no tomorrow and breathing heavy. Overstim and talking them through it. Praise. 🫣

Oh my god. ( this is not proofread it is literally 2am)

Carmy’s not super experienced. We all know this. In all honesty he barely knows what squirting is. He thought it was just a thing in porn, until it came up in a conversation between you two.

“I’m pretty sure it happened to me once a few years ago, but I have no clue how I did it.”

“W-wait what? I thought that only happens in porn.” His cheeks begin to flush as he thinks about it. You, with your fingers curling up inside of you, gushing onto the sheets below you.

You giggle at his pure cluelessness. “It can happen, it’s just not common. Some girls can’t do it at all. I didn’t realize I could until it happened.”

“Oh.”

Needless to say Carmen cannot get the idea out of his mind. It literally haunts him at work. He wants to make you squirt. He needs to.

Carmy being the nerd that he is researches the hell out of it, making sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. That Saturday on his day off, he’s determined to make it happen.

His lips are on yours the second he finishes cleaning up the kitchen from cooking dinner. His mouth moves sloppily against yours, teeth clashing together.

“Carm—“ you manage to break away from his eager lips for a brief moment. “What’s the rush? We can calm down a bit, you know. We have all night.”

“I wanna make you squirt. I’ve been— thinking about it non-stop for the past few days. I can’t fucking think straight. Can I? Please?”

How can you refuse him when he’s looking at you with those desperate blue eyes. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

You and Carmy work together to remove your clothes. He has you lay down on your back with your knees spread wide. He sits beside you, still fully clothed. “J-just tell me if you want to stop.”

His middle and ring fingers press into your soaked core with no hesitation. Carmy’s studying you, the facial expressions you make, and the way your cunt pulses around his fingers. His movements are slow and gentle at first, but that changes quickly. He quickens the thrust of his fingers while hooking the two fingers upwards. Carmy’s searching for that rough spot, and by your reaction, he knows he found it.

“Carmy! Fuck—“ you hand aimlessly searches for something to hold onto to steady yourself. Carmen offers his left hand, which you grip tightly.

Once he finds the spot, Carmy locks into focus. His thrusts are deliberate, alternating between speeds and making sure to apply pressure. Your hips move out of their own volition. “That it, baby? That feel good?” He asks. His voice his smooth, but you don’t miss the way he’s biting his lip in concentration. His brow is furrowed and sweat collects on his forehead.

“Yes, Carm. Please. Please don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. I’ve got you.” Carmy continues to pleasure you, only stopping for a brief moment when you neared your climax. He softly shushes your whimper of complaint. “I know, baby. Trust me. You can trust me.”

His pace picks back up before you even know it. His fingertips move at lightening speed, pressing hard at the rough patch at the top of your core. Carmy looks like pure sex, and you’re not even pleasuring him. His face is completely flushed as he breathes heavily, panting for hair. Sweat is starting to pool off of his brow and down the side of his face. His eyes are blown out; only a small sliver of the blue still visible.

“Carm— I’m close. Please I’m so close. Fuck!” Your cries are nearly incomprehensible. Your hips buck against his fingers.

“Cum. Gush around my fingers. Make a fucking mess.”

“Shit— Carmen—“ you moan as your orgasm over takes you. You shutter as you feel liquid spill between your legs. It’s euphoria like you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl! Fuck. That’s it. Keep cumming for me. Don’t stop soaking my fingers, baby,” Carmy praises, watching you in awe. You clutch onto his body as more spurts leave you. He hasn’t slowed down his fingers at all. It’s all becoming too much.

“T-too much—“ you try and tell Carmy, but he doesn’t slow down immediately.

“I’ve got you. You can take it.” He’s still watching your cunt at your hips recklessly move against his hand. He can’t believe he made you squirt. He wants to stay in this moment as long as possible.

After he’s finally decided you’ve had enough, he removes his fingers from you. As if on autopilot, he places the digits in his mouth, licking the remnants of your slick off of them. You pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him deeply.

“Fuck, Carm. That was— I don’t even know what to say.” You don’t need to think of anything else, though, because Carmen does the rest of the talking.

“You did so good for me. Holy shit that was—God, you’re so fucking pretty. I want to do that over and over and over—“

“Woah let’s slow down a sec. I need to remember which side is my left or or my right first.”

“Sorry… got a little bit excited.”

From then on Carmy loves to make you squirt. His favorite thing to do is bring a mirror into it, so you can see how fucking gorgeous you look squirting around his fingers. Also he definitely starts to try and learn how to make you squirt with his cock after this….

[viareblogsstuff]

this was literally perfect i love stoner!reader x carm

sister-in-law | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader one shot

pairing: boyfriend!carmy x fem!reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, talks of marriage, marijuana usage, long term relationship

summary: set two years after the ending of ‘make my heart surrender.’ you and carmy have settled into a comfortable rhythm between creating something spectacular with the bear and exploring your relationship. now that you’ve been together for a while now, sugar asks you a very important question… while you’re both violently high.

a/n: this is a fun and silly little idea i had after discovering two year old videos of me and my best friend 60 minutes after taking an edible.

It’s not often that you get dressed up, but you don’t want Natalie to think that you’re a total slob. You’re mostly in comfy clothes at home, then kitchen clothes here at the restaurant so it’s a welcomed change up from the status quo. Every now and then you get dressed up for a date night with Carmy, but most date nights you’re so tired that you prefer to stay in.

After slipping on the wrap dress you found at the back of your shared closet with Carmy, you run your fingers through your hair making sure that it isn’t too messy from a full morning and afternoon’s worth of work. You notice that your hair falls in soft waves from being twisted into a bun earlier that morning, so you smooth out a few stray hairs that look a little too messy. You slip on your leather jacket, as it’s getting chillier at night, and make your way out of the bathroom. 

If you didn’t know how hard Gary worked to keep everything clean, you’d have your hesitations about changing in the staff restroom. While most of the restaurant had gotten a face lift during the remodel, the staff restroom was one of the remaining parts of The Bear’s past. You pass through the kitchen one more time, your pristine white sneakers clean only because you never wear them here, heading right to Carmy’s office. 

He’s got his head buried in some paperwork, a pen in his mouth as his eyes scan over the legal jargon that runs all through the first page. A stray curl frames his face perfectly, earning a smile from you as his focus remains unbroken. 

“You still cool with me taking the car tonight?” you ask your boyfriend, causing Carmy to look up from the new lease agreement he has yet to sign. 

“Woah,” he sounds, raising his eyebrows as he checks you out. He’s not used to seeing you like this – let alone in a dress. 

He wonders for a moment if he forgot an anniversary of some sort, panic beginning to set in. 

“What’s uh-, what’s going on?” he stammers, caught completely off guard by how good you look. 

You chuckle, knowing he’s only a little tongue tied because he hasn’t seen you in a dress in a while, “I’m heading to your sister’s, remember? For dinner. We talked about this last night.”

“Shhhhhhit,” he swears, hanging on to the first syllable. He tosses the lease agreement down on his desk in defeat, turning in his chair towards you. “I-, I just talked to Sugar earlier today. She didn’t say anything about dinner plans.” He pauses, swearing under his breath again. “Will you tell her I’m sorry? It must’ve slipped my mind and I’ve got to stay a little longer till Syd gets in.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, babe. You weren’t invited anyways,” you reply casually, letting him off the hook. 

Or at least you think it’s going to let him off the hook. 

You watch as his facial expressions move from panic to pure confusion. Carmy’s racking his brain for any kind of recollection, searching for any recollection of the conversation you’re referencing. Between training new line cooks and working overtime so that Sydney could take a vacation, his brain is fried and he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

You giggle again, stepping into his office, “I take it you don’t remember the conversation we had before we went to bed last night?”

Truthfully, you suspected he might’ve been half asleep when you’d curled up to him and let him know that you and his sister had plans tonight. He’d been working so hard at the restaurant lately that you’re not surprised he’s reached this level of burnout. 

“Baby, Nat invited me over for dinner tonight. We’re gonna hang out… catch up a little,” you explain pivoting to the whole ‘you’re not invited part.’ “If it makes you feel any better, Pete’s not invited either.”

You search his facial expressions, looking for any kind of familiarity, but it seems your words have only caused him more confusion. 

“Wait, let me get this straight,” he says, trying to put all the pieces together. 

“You’re going over to my sister’s?” he repeats back to you.

“Uh huh.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Without me,” he emphasizes. 

“That is correct.”

He takes a beat, before finally coming to his conclusion. 

“You and my sister have plans together without me?”

You laugh at how surprised he sounds. 

“Jeez, Carm. You’d think after knowing her for two years we’d be able to have a conversation without you, babe,” you joke with him. 

But he still looks like he’s trying to solve a calculus equation. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll try my best to steer clear of any embarrassing stories,” you reassure him, hoping to put his mind at ease. “And let her know that calling you a ‘soft shitty bitch’ in front of me is not your favorite.”

He laughs dryly, still trying his best to wrap his head around the fact that you and his sister are hanging out. It’s not that it’s a wildly radical concept for him to stomach, but between your relationship and the restaurant, you and Natalie had only spent a handful of times solo over the last two years (which was precisely the point she’d made when she called you the other day). You’d told her that you had a night off and appreciated the invitation for some quality time. 

“We’re kicking out Pete too. Maybe… you could give him a call,” you suggest, cautiously. You’re not even sure why you suggest it, considering the look he sends you that says, ‘not likely but nice try.’

“Or not,” you conclude, taking the option off the table as soon as you see the look on Carmy’s face. “You stickin’ around here tonight?”

“Just till Syd gets in,” Carmy replies. And considering how fried his brain feels, he could really use the night off. 

“Okay, well I’m gonna head home and feed Aioli before I head over to Sugar’s,” you tell him, in reference to the cat you both rescued just shortly after you moved in together. “See ya at home?”

“Sure,” Carmy replies, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle, goodbye kiss. 

He’s not sure whether he feels relieved that he doesn’t have to go to dinner with you, or nervous about the fact that you and Sugar are hanging out without him. What did you have in common with his sister? What the hell were you going to talk about and why did he care?

Sydney comes in a little later and she and Carmy catch up about her time off, things at the restaurant, the progress of their recently hired new line cooks. Before he knows it, she’s practically kicking him out of their restaurant, insisting that he get a head start on his night off. 

Carmy’s not sure whether it's the progressively chillier air, or the fact that the days are getting shorter that’s got him in his head. While he entertains the thought of going home, opening a window before he lights a few up, and crashing on the couch early, he’s not sure he’s ready to go home yet. With his plaid coat to keep him warm, Carmy enjoys a leisurely walk to a meeting instead. 

He doesn’t feel he needs them as much as he used to, but Carmy still likes to go at least once a week. You’ve joined him a few times and while he appreciates the support, he likes that it feels like a place that’s just his. That’s just for him. It’s almost been three years since Mikey died and while the pain isn’t as sharp, it continues to shapeshift. He likes having the outlet – whether he wants to stand up and talk about it or not. It’s a place he doesn’t have to be anyone – not chef, not a business owner, not a partner – but just some fucked up kid with a dead brother and anxiety.

Across town, you sit at the Berzatto kitchen table, flipping through old photo albums as Natalie finishes assembling dinner. You’re not sure how you got on the topic, but she’s telling you about her soulcycle class and running a successful campaign of trying to get you to come with her. 

“There’s one near River North and everything,” she says, glowing with her own excitement. 

“No, yeah, we should definitely go sometime,” you reply, as she’s just taken out the casserole dish of eggplant parm out of the oven

“I know your work schedule is sporadic. Why don’t I send you the schedule and you can just let me know which one you’d like to go to?” Natalie suggests, hopefully.

You agree, half to placate her and half because you’re genuinely curious about this ‘spin class’ that she can’t stop raving about. 

“Oh my god. Look at you guys!” you guys, pausing the minute you see a photo of all the Berzatto children. 

Mikey must have been a teenager in this one. He’s got a young, and exceptionally blonde, Carmy hoisted up over his shoulders, while Natalie glaring into the camera lens, a popsicle in her hands. 

“Oh my god… I haven’t seen this one in forever,” she says, glancing over at the photo album page you’ve held up to show her. 

“There was a heatwave,” she begins to recall fondly. “And Uncle Jimmy had set up a sprinkler in the yard for us so that we could play in some water. Mom always hated community pools and refused to let us join one.”

“Carmy is so blonde. And the bowl cut?” you laugh, running your fingertips over the photo. 

Natalie nods in agreement, “Yeah not the best look for him when the curls came in. He and I were both very blonde when we were younger… but Mikey… he always had that tall dark and handsome look from the get go. 

You take a beat, listening to her talk about Mikey. You turn the page of the photo book, your eyes scanning over a few new photographs. There’s one of Mikey in a tux that’s so 90’s it’s painful. He stands with a stunning redhead, her corsage matching his tie. There’s a younger Carmy in the background of the photo as well and suddenly, there’s a bittersweet feeling in your belly. 

“I wish I could've met him,” you finally say out loud. “Mikey,”

“Yeah,” Sugar says sadly. She rests her back against the kitchen counter, her glass of wine still in her hands. 

“He would’ve really liked you,” she offers up, sympathetically. “Actually, he probably would’ve hit on you just to push Carmy’s buttons a little.”

“Oh really?” you ask, a light chuckle escaping your lips. 

“Carmy didn’t date a lot. I mean… he hasn’t dated a lot… really till you. And Mikey on the other hand never had any trouble in that department, which I think only made him more eager to be Carmy’s wingman. Even when his methods were… questionable,” she replies, remembering her complicated older brother. 

“Is this your mom?” you ask, pointing to the middle-aged woman in the photo. 

“Yeah,” Sugar nods. “I know. She looks so different.”

You’re quiet for a moment. You’d only met the Berzatto matriarch once in the last two years you’d been living in Chicago, and it had gone less than swimmingly. Natalie and Pete had invited everyone over for dinner, and it hadn’t taken long for Carmy and his mother to get into it, leading to an early exit for you and him. 

“Carmy never really talks about her…” you trail off, shooting Natalie a look. 

“He-,” she starts, not sure how she wants to explain it. On one hand, while she can understand why Carmy keeps his distance, she resents him for not trying. “He had the least time with Dad… and then Mom, in her right mind. I’ve been thinking a lot about that actually… now that Pete and I are trying to get pregnant.”

You understand. But it’s tough to hear the sadness in Natalie’s voice as well, especially since she’s worked so hard to accept the relationship she'll never have with her own mother.

“Anyways, uh… I think the eggplant parm is ready,” Natalie says, changing the subject. She nods you over to the kitchen counter, prompting you to close the photo book, and follow her into the kitchen. 

*

By the time his meeting ends, the sun has almost set. Carmy makes his way out of the church, pausing at the bottom of the steps to pull out his phone. He’s not sure why, but he’s still not ready to go home just yet. The restaurant’s really taken off, which means he and Syd have been able to hire more line cooks, and he’s not needed every single day, day in and day out. While it’s great that they’ve grown so much, Carmy finds it a harder adjustment than he expected. He’s always had a complicated relationship with rest – with sitting still. 

After furiously entering in his passcode, he types up a quick text to Richie. 

Carmy: Yo. I got the night off. Up for a drink?

He sees the three dots at the bottom of his message with Richie and anticipates his reply. In a matter of seconds, a reply pops up on his screen. 

Richie: No can do, cuz. I got Ava tonight. 

Carmy knows that Richie’s fought hard to get more time with Ava. He’s been spending more time with her during the weekdays too, now that the staff that made up The Bear wasn’t made up of five people anymore. Everyone seemed to be experiencing shifts these days. 

Carmy: Another time. 

Carmy moves his thumbs over a few different screens, opening up a previous message that Syd’s sent him. 

Carmy: How’s everything going?

Sydney: All good, chef. Enjoy your night off. 

It’s a strange feeling – not being needed every single shift at the restaurant. He knew it meant that they’d made huge progress – had come so far from where they started – but Carmy was still adjusting to this new rhythm of… not shitty and maybe sort of a legit spot. They had, after all, taken home the James Beard “Best New Restaurant” award last year.

Carmy thinks about it for a moment. He could go back in, see if they needed help around the kitchen, but he knows he’d just be in the fucking way. He huffs out a stubborn puff of air as your words echo in his head:

We’re kicking Pete out too. Maybe… you could give him a call.

He shakes in his head in disbelief, not sure what possesses him as he thinks to himself, what the hell?

His fingers hover over Pete’s name in his contact list, before he finally just bites the bullet and clicks on the contact. He’s really started to warm up to Pete over the years, but it’s not like they’re hanging out or grabbing drinks by themselves or anything. It’s mostly family gatherings, little text message exchanges here and there, hanging out at the restaurant. 

Carmy waits as the phone rings: once, twice, three times. It’s on the fourth ring that Pete finally picks up. 

“Hey, Carm. What’s going on?” Pete greets. It’s so chipper that Carmy has to fight his impulse to throw his phone in front of a moving car. 

“Yo! Uh… you want to grab a drink?” Carmy asks, cutting right to the chase. 

Pete, completely caught off guard by his brother-in-law’s ask, rushes to answer. 

“Oh yeah! Definitely. I’m just uh-, leaving the Y downtown. Shootin’ some hoops. With the boys,” he replies, trying a little too hard to sound cool. Carmy’s not sure if he’s oversharing out of surprise, or if Pete is really just this much of a nerd. 

“Where you at?”

“Uh… River North. All-Family meeting,” Carmy answers. 

“Cool cool cool,” Pete nods. “Why don’t uh-, why don’t I come meet you up there?”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll uh-, see you soon.”

They discuss details and Pete’s eager to throw out a place that Carmy will think is cool. Carmy’s not sure what he’s in for, or why he called in the first place, but he’s already set the ball in motion. 

Before taking off, he shoots you a quick text message:

Meeting up with Pete. How’s it going?

You’re mid-bite as you receive Carmy’s text message, almost spitting out your food as you read what he’s sent you. 

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Sugar asks, concerned. 

“Carmy called Pete,” you say, still in shock. The two of you exchanged glances. “They’re gonna grab a drink. I mean, I kind of suggested earlier thinking there was no way in hell but-.”

Sugar rolls her eyes, “Well great. Looks like Hell’s frozen over. I won’t be surprised if the two of them bring on the end of the world.”

You laugh in response because it’s funny, and because you know that she’s deflecting – trying not to get her hopes that this could be a good thing. 

It’s not till you finish eating dinner that it hits you that Carmy really took your advice and is probably with Pete right now. You send over a quick text, because you can’t help yourself from checking in. 

You: How’s it going? You haven’t punched Pete in the face yet, I hope. 

Carmy: All good. 

You roll your eyes at his short reply, before your phone powers off. 

“Shit, my phone’s dead. Mind if I charge it?” you ask. 

“Of course,” Natalie replies. “Here, I’ll go plug it in for you.” 

“Thanks,” you say back, handing her your phone. 

She gets up out of her seat, making her way back to the kitchen where there’s a charger. You hear her slide something over, and the sound of plates being put into the sink before she says, 

“Fucking-, Jesus Christ. What a fucking loser!”

“What?” you call to her, not sure what she’s talking about. 

Natalie returns to you, a small pack in her hands and a look on her face like she can’t wait to tell you a secret.

“Pete’s been really stressed out at work,” she begins, on the verge of laughter. “So I told him to pick up a thing of CBD gummies.”

“Okay….”

“Only he’s a fucking idiot and…” she continues, before handing you the package that she’s had in her hands. “... clearly doesn’t understand the difference between CBD and THC.”

You examine the packaging and, in Pete’s defense, the letters that read THC are small. You laugh, turning the package over in your hands. 

Weed gummies. Pete accidentally bought weed gummies. 

“I gave him specific instructions on what to look for and where to-,” she says with an eye roll. As annoyed as she is with Pete, she also finds it endearing that he’s this much of a goody-two-shoes. 

“I’ll have him go back to the dispensary and exchange them tomorrow.”

You take a beat, not sure if you should say what’s in your head. Weed is legal in Illinois after all and he DID get them from a dispensary. You figure the worst thing she can do is say ‘no’ and think that you’re weird. 

“Okay but,” you begin deviously, pausing for dramatic effect. “What if you didn’t?”

“Didn’t…?” she pauses, eyeing you suspiciously. 

A smile creeps up on her face as the corners of her lips curl upwards. 

You shrug, “I think we deserve to let loose a little.”

Sugar waits, thinking it over. Really, she’s just looking for a reason to say no, and she can’t find one. 

“Okay, yeah. Why the fuck not?” 

*

“Do you feel like maybe it’s possible that we could… sink into the couch?” you ask, as the edible has officially hit. 

Natalie lets out a loud laugh, “YES! Yes, that’s exactly how I feel right now.”

“Like somehow our bodies will liquify and we’ll be a part of this couch for the rest of eternity.”

You sit side by side, feeling your bodies sink into the couch, relaxing into it. Damn, you haven’t felt this relaxed in a while and you can only imagine Sugar hasn’t either. Between carrying the weight of parenting everyone in the Berzatto family, you’re just glad that you two can blow off some steam together. 

“Okay, I want to ask you something,” Natalie says, turning her whole body to you. It feels like she’s turning towards you in slow motion and she definitely knows the edible has hit. 

“Hm?” you hum in response, turning just your head towards her. 

“It’s a very serious question.”

Only she can’t keep a straight face and the harder she works to be serious, the more the two of you laugh. 

“I’m not convinced this is serious,” you point out through a fit of giggles. 

“No, it is, I swear! Just-. Hold on.”

When Sugar finally collects herself, she has a very serious look on her face for a moment as she stares you down. Your eyes watch as she grabs your hands in hers, following with eight words you’re not expecting her to ask. 

“Are you and Carmen going to get married?”

“Wh-,” you start, unable to finish your sentence before bursting into another fit of laughter. It’s not that the concept is all that funny, but you are high after all. “Wh-, what-? Woah! Where did that come from?”

“No, I’m serious!” she demands, before lowering her voice to a whisper. 

“You said that.”

“Okay, well I mean it! Listen, listen, listen.”

You’re listening. 

“I mean, what’s the hold up? You moved your whole life here and it’s been two years! You’ve got to at least be talking about it right?”

You shrug casually, “Yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a while but-.”

Surprised by the hesitation she can hear in your voice, Sugar pauses. 

“Wait-, do you not think that Carmy’s-?” she begins to ask. 

“Oh my god, no!” you cut her off, eager to squash any notion that Carmy isn’t the one for you. “No, that's not it at all.” 

“Carmine…” you trail off, tickled by the nickname you’ve heard Richie use on more than one occasion. “... is the love of my life.”

“Aw.”

“Yeah… I guess we just haven’t really talked about… marriage… all that much.”

“Well, why not?” Sugar practically exclaims, startling you with her overenthusiastic rally. “You guys are fucking perfect for each other! You’ve been dating for long enough!”

“We’re just not in a rush, I guess!” you reply, with a shrug. 

“That’s such bullshit,” she argues, wondering if she needs to have a few words with her little brother. 

“No! No, it’s not, I swear. Let me explain,” you justify, sending her a ‘just hear me out’ kind of look. 

You clear your throat, trying your best to be serious, even though you feel you may be melting into the couch at this point. Sugar waits for your explanation, unconvinced that this isn’t all Carmy’s fault. 

“Would you think I was cheesy… if I said we’re not-, well at least I’m not in a hurry…” you begin, letting the words fall out of your mouth as you finish your sentence with, “...because I know we have forever?”

“Aw, no it’s-,” Sugar starts, before breaking into another fit of giggles. “Well yeah it’s totally super cheesy but it’s also… really sweet.”

You share a genuine moment of love and appreciation – for each other, for Carmy, for the fact that someone loves her little brother this damn much – before bursting out into laughter again. 

“Oh shit,” Sugar hisses, feeling her phone go off. She sits up, reaching for her phone that’s somehow fallen on the floor. The caller ID reads ‘Carmy,’ and she swears again.

“Speak of the devil,” she mutters, answering the phone. You cover your mouth, trying your best to be quiet. 

“Hellooo?”

You hear him ask if you’re still with her. 

“Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Sugar asks back, doing her best to sound sober. 

“Her phone’s off and I got-. Will you just put my girlfriend on, please?” Carmy asks. Sugar simultaneously finds it annoying and also sweet that he sounds worried about you. 

“It’s Carmy,” she whispers to you, handing you the phone. 

In a sing-song voice she teases you, “Someone is in trouble.”

You take the phone, mouthing back, ‘no i’m not.’ 

“Hello?” you answer, immediately hearing the worry in his voice. 

“Hey, I’ve been trying to call you but your phone’s off. Everything okay?” he asks, concerned. 

“Oh shit,” you swear. “Yeah, I’m sorry. My phone died right after you texted me about going to meet up with Pete. It’s been charging on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay,” Carmy sighs, relieved. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, babe. But um yeah, no,” you reassure, your facade quickly slipping. You know you sound less sober by the minute. “Everything is… very cool. Very cool beansssss.” 

Natalie laughs at your explanation, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh. 

Carmy pauses, noticing something different about the way your voice sounds.

No. It can’t be. 

This is the last possible thing that could happen this evening. Tonight was supposed to be about you and his sister bonding and probably talking shit about him. 

He can’t believe he’s going to ask you this. 

“Are you… are you high right now?” he asks, in pure disbelief as the words leave his mouth. 

You and Natalie shoot a ‘busted’ look to each other as you reply, “Um yeah. High on life. And also a gummy.”

Carmy chuckles at your juvenile response, “Okay, well, I’m glad you two are having fun. Promise me you won’t drive home?”

“Mhm,” you hum in response. “I’ll just uber home. To you, Carmy-Bear. The love of my life.”

“Wow, you really are high,” he comments, still trying to wrap his head around it. 

Carmy chuckles at his new title. It’s not the first time he’s heard you call him that, but it seems out of place considering. It makes him wonder what kind of trouble you and Sugar have gotten into this evening. 

“She’s fine, Carmen. She’s in good hands!” Sugar yells, loud enough so that he can hear it through the phone.

“Will you turn your phone back on though? I was a little worried there when I couldn't get a hold of you.”

“You were worried about me?” you ask, softly, his words affecting you even more now that you’re blasted.

“Awwww he loves you,” Sugar says softly.

“I know it’s pretty fuckin’ great,” you agree with a giggle. 

“You’re ready to go? Okay, yeah, we can-,” you can hear Carmy say. He pauses and you can hear him exchange a few words with someone else. “Don’t worry about getting a car back, sweetheart. Pete’s gonna drive me back and uh, I’ll take you home.”

“My hero,” you swoon playfully, eliciting another fit of giggles from Sugar. 

“Sweetheart, will you please tell Sugar that I’m coming to get you?” he asks, almost as if he’s talking to a child. 

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now!”

You pretend to cover up the speaker of the phone before saying, “Um, so, Buzz Killington on the line here wants me to tell you that I’m not allowed to drive home and he’s gonna come pick me up right now.”

“Oh, you’re no fun, Carmy!” she shouts back to him. 

“Babe, will you just put Sugar back on the phone?”

“Fine,” you scowl, handing the phone back to Natalie. “Sugar, my dad would like to talk to you.”

Carmy’s not sure how he has somehow found himself in a situation where he is the only adult in the metaphorical room as he hears your comment, dodging strange looks from Pete. 

“Fucking christ, Bear. Relax,” Sugar sighs out, annoyed with her little brother as she takes the phone back. “Sounds like he needs a gummy too.” 

“Sugar are you-, are you high too?” he asks, much more surprised to find out that she also seems to have had a gummy. 

“Yep. See ya soon, little brother. Byeeeee,” she says, before hanging up on him. 

Carmy’s surprised to discover that his sister has just hung up on him. He’s not sure whether he’s annoyed with the two of you, shocked that you’re both high, or humored by it all. At least he can stop worrying about you.

“What’s uh-, what’s goin’ on?” Pete asks, having witnessed that more-than-strange interaction with you, Sugar, and Carmy on the phone. 

Carmy lets out an amused chuckle before saying, “They’re high right now.”

*

It feels like a second and also three years later that Carmy and Pete come home, bursting through the front door. You and Sugar are still on the couch gossiping, barely paying attention to the Bravo TV show she’s put on in the background. 

Natalie offers to pack you guys up some leftovers, which Pete assists with, until you’re all standing in the doorway of Nat and Pete’s home. 

“So how exactly did this happen again?” Carmy questions, hesitantly. He’s almost too afraid to learn the answer. 

“Because my goody-two-shoes of a husband doesn’t know the fucking difference between THC and CBD,” she says, glaring at Pete. 

“Ohhhh no wonder they asked me for an ID,” Pete replies, his eyes widening. 

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks you, and you nod with a stupid lovesick smile on your face. 

You say your goodbyes and Natalie brings you in for one more hug. 

“And you’re still going to come with me to my soulcycle class right?” she asks with a very serious look on her face.

“Yes, yes. Absolutely. I will, I promise.”

“Awww okay. Thanks for coming over. I can’t wait for you to be my sister-in-law,” Natalie gushes, as she hugs you goodbye. 

“Woahhhh, okay. Uh, let’s get you home,” Carmy interjects, practically dragging you out of the door. 

Carmy ushers you to the car, and before you know it, you’re on the way home. 

“Do I even want to ask?” Carmy asks, sending an amused look your way. 

“No,” you giggle in response, resting your head on your shoulder. You’re sleepy as you cozy up to him. “What’d you and Pete talk about?”

He shrugs. They had kept the conversation pretty surface level. Pete had tried really hard to connect with Carmy over being a self-proclaimed foodie. 

“Best way to cook a steak.”

“Laaaaaame,” you reply. 

Carmy waits a beat, a soft smile on his face as he looks back over at you. 

“Sugar’s a bad influence on you,” he teases playfully, and you groan in response, shaking your head. 

“Mmmm did you ever think that I'm a bad influence on her?” you challenge, your tone light.

“Okay, bad influence,” he chuckles. Let’s get you home and into bed because we both have to be up in the morning.”

“Fffffffuck,” you shout, earning an amused laugh from Carmy. 

Halfway through the drive home, you fall asleep on his shoulder. Carmy looks over at you once more, a warmth filling his belly as he sees you passed out. He wonders what Sugar meant earlier, by calling you her sister-in-law. There’s no way she could know, right? He’d barely talked about it with you – let alone his sister. 

But Natalie’s always been ahead of him – always had the words for his feelings long before ever he had. And he’s been thinking about it: your relationship, marrying you, making it forever, legally. There’s no way she could know, right? That he’d taken a curious gander at engagement rings the other day. That he’d been cutting onions before dinner service and thinking about how he’d propose to you. That when you’d fall asleep before him, he’d lay there, wondering how the hell he got so lucky and how it’s humanly possible that you’re his.

Maybe, he’d just have to start thinking about keeping you, officially.

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Random Masterlist

Masterlist Key

Fluff=🥰

Smut=🫣

Angst=🥲

The bear

Carmy: Slow burn🥰

Carmy: Etched in Ink 🥰🥲

Carmy: Sweet Symphony 🫣🥰

Top Gun

Bob Floyd: Pretty Boy🥰

Bob Floyd: Drunk words, sober truths 🫣🥰

Bob Floyd: Speedy Landing 🫣🥰

Bob Floyd: Crash and burn 🫣🥰🥲

Squid game

Seong Gi Hun (player 456): Make believe 🥰

Seong Gi hun (player 456): The look of love, the rush of blood 🫣 🥰

Cho Sang Woo (player 218): A blast form the past 🫣

Kang Dae Ho (player 388): Warmth 🥰

Alice in Borderland

Chishiya: Crawling back to you🥰🥲

The trunk

Han Jeong-Won: Your lips, my lips🫣

Polar

Duncan Vizla: Too Sweet for me 🥰🥲🫣

Midnight Mass

Sheriff Hassan: The new sheriff in town🥲

Sheriff Hassan: So this is the end🥰🥲

Avatar

Lo'ak: Reborn🥰

Neteyam: Reckless Behaviour🥰

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson: A helping hand🥰

Wednesday

Tyler: Not a monster, just done monstrous things

Xavier: Unrequited love🥲

Good omens

Crowley: To love and be loved

Crowley X Aziraphale: Together

Triple Frontier

Santi/Frankie: Two is better than one🫣🥰

Saltburn

Oliver: The birthday boy🫣

One Piece (Live action)

Luffy: Love bites 🫣

Usopp: Shoot your shot 🫣 (request)

Sanji: Forbidden fruit 🫣

Star Wars

Cassian Andor: Rescue Mission🥰

Cassian Andor: Hold me even if your hands are bloody

Poe Dameron: Stubborn to a fault🥰

Din Djarin: Another day🥰🥲

Din Djarin: Yours🥰

Din Djarin: Guilty Pleasure 🫣

House of the Dragon

Alicent: Secret touches🫣

Alicent: Sworn protector 🥰 (request)

Helaena: A mothers pain🥰🥲

Aemond: Sweet Caresses 🥰🥲

Aemond: An olive branch 🫣🥰

Aemond: The cowardly king🫣🥲

Aemond: Words of comfort🥰🥲

Aemond: Two side of the same coin 🥲

Aegon: A shoulder to cry on 🥰🥲

[katiethelmie]

“2 minutes.”

“Okay.”

[lovelikeafuneral]

i’m sorry but in my headcanon carmy is a virgin so i do agree with jeremy when he said carmy does not fuck (doesn’t mean forever though)

[viareblogsstuff]

LMFAOOAOAOAOOA

shift shenanigans - s1 social media au

note: jus for fun ! may or may not do more parts.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes from richie sry

part two

liked by syd_adamu, marcus.brooks11 and 30 others

chefboyardee: my friends! i love my friends! the two on the right more than the left (i’m joking i promise) 😁😁😁😁

see all 8 comments

syd_adamu: brave of you to call him your friend y/n

↳ chefboyardee: boss man carmy save me

↳ syd_adamu: oh.. :///

marcus.brooks11: you did me so dirty, friend.

↳ chefboyardee: love you marcus you look spectacular

↳ marcus.brooks11: don’t start

richietheking: Where am I?

↳ chefboyardee: ya motha

liked by syd_adamu, chefboyardee and 10 others

richietheking: Getting sh$!t done.

see all 8 comments

marcus.brooks11: This is coolllddd.

↳ richietheking: You already know it man.

syd_adamu: this is actually crazy

carmyberzatto: can you show this on instagram? i think you should delete this.

↳ richietheking: Delete your life.

chefboyardee: come down to the beef for a number 6 the occy way 💯 the safest joint on the block 🤑💯we are 🔛🔝

↳ richietheking: Eyyy I know that’s right.

↳ carmyberzatto: please don’t advertise this.

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 8:25 am ]

y/n:

bruh im about to lose it. heads up when you guys get to work.

marcus: that catering order is about to be crazy

DO NOT REPLY: These white boards are stressing me out.

syd: we know, probably giving you ptsd from not finishing high school

DO NOT REPLY: Fuck you I did finish it.

y/n: oh i gotta change ur contact name richie

richie poo: ????? What

y/n: it was ‘DO NOT REPLY’ lols

marcus: valid

syd: real

richie poo: What? Why?! That’s so rude

y/n: cuz you piss me off

and you kept blowing up my phone yesterday

richie poo: You weren’t answering, and we needed help at the cook out.

syd: the one where you poisoned everyone?

richie poo: Fuck off.

y/n: when i’m off work, i’m off work.

marcus: don’t let carmy hear that, y/n

y/n: don’t remind me

syd: he’s trying at least, go easy on him. he really has great ideas

richie poo: You mean you have great ideas in that little notebook

tina: Never trust a broad with a notebook.

syd: hey! i’m just being helpful

y/n: do you guys think my ig post will hurt carmys feelings

marcus: it would make me a little sad if i were him, but i don’t think he cares

y/n: great i’m gonna cry now

syd: i doubt he even saw it y/n it’s fine

richie poo: Check the work chat. Cousin is in a mood.

y/n: oh great

tina: Help us all.

syd: be nice you guys

WORK

[ 9:15 am ]

carmy: Everyone, we have huge catering orders tomorrow to prep for today. Please get here as soon as you can, the earlier you clock in the better. Additionally, please be careful what you post on social media. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

syd: ok sounds good

richie poo: Cool it, Cousin. What’s the issue with the social media

tina: I use FaceBook. That not allowed now??

carmy: Tina, you’re fine. I’m talking about those who post work things on public accounts

marcus: facebook is crazy

richie poo: I can’t go private

y/n: he needs the likes

richie poo: No I’m disabled from doing so. Not sure why

y/n: liar

richie poo: 😑I don’t like you

carmy: Then please don’t post pics of yourself posting up with a gun and an air horn outside of my shop anymore.

marcus: that pic was fire can’t lie

carmy: Well, it’s bad for business.

richie poo: Fine, whatever

y/n: carmy

carmy: What, Y/n?

y/n: is this because of my caption on my post i’m sorry i promise i wasn’t being for real

carmy: I don’t care Y/n.

y/n: is that code for ‘i care a lot and i’m crying in the office right now and that’s why the door is closed’

oh

syd: ? why the oh

y/n: he opened the door and yelled no 🤨 but i think i saw red eyes

carmy: Please get back to work and I’ll comp a meal for you later

y/n: OMG yes chef 😍

richie poo: Inappropriate emojis and you shouldn’t have to incentivize her to work

y/n: shut up acting like HR i’m gonna beat your ass

jealousy is ugly which is why you have that mug on your face

carmy: Stop

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

i heard your giggle tho

richie poo: Again with the schizo episode

syd: you can’t say that richie

richie poo: Oh sorry

[claraswritings]

heyy as a blurb for the Can I Be The One fic- how about a jealous Carmy? Like he knows she picked him but he can’t help but be a littttle bit possessive?? And she actually likes it 🫣

Hey thank you for your nice comment!!

Some SMUT BTC

If you have any other blurb ideas for my Can I Be The One universe let me know :)

Carmy could hear the person next to him at the bar try speak to him but he wasn’t really listening.. he was too focused on you.

You were talking to a guy. A guy who was easily 6’5”, broad shouldered, with a well tailored suit and slicked back red hair. A guy who was animatedly talking to you whilst you nodded politely.

You always were friendly to everyone but he couldn’t help the jealously in the pit of his stomach. Did you think this guy was hot?

‘She picked you. She loves you. She’s still with you even though you’re fucking crazy’ he tries to tell himself but as he sees you laugh politely at something the guy has said. He can’t help it.

‘Well the past three months have been too good to be true’ he told himself, his eyes not shifting off you.

And then like you always do, like you always have, you tapped into that weird ability you have to sense when he needs you and glanced across the room for him, waving him over when your eyes locked.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

****

“Carmy, this is Tom. He’s my brothers University friend, he’s from London and he’s a personal trainer for a rugby club”

Carmy rather stiltedly held out his hand and offered a handshake to Tom, who reciprocated.

“Tom, this is Carmy. My boyfriend.” Another person wouldn’t notice the oh so subtly emphasis on the word but Carmy did. “He’s from Chicago and he’s head chef at his own restaurant, aren’t you babe”

You were smiling at him, looking at him so happily but all Carmy could focus on was how this Tom was staring at you.

“Oh interesting.” Tom said as if he thought it was anything but. “Is it as good as Baccchanalia? The beef carpaccio was spectacular there”

“Yes.” You enthused “Carmy has worked in several Michelin star restaurants, he’s won awards, he cooks the best food I’ve ever had. I’m very proud of him”

Tom nodded “Well good for you mate.” He said before turning back to you “Say…there’s this new place in Kesington, my sister does their marketing and can get us a table for two tomorrow if you fancy it. Me and you of course”

Carmy felt his jaw clench and subconsciously he wrapped his arm around your waist. And as if you could sense his tension, you touched his hand in the spot it rested.

“Oh no thank you, Carmen and I are going to the museums, aren’t we babe?” You said politely.

“Next day then?”

“No…I’m good” you said

“Or we can catch up when your friend is back in Chicago?” Tom suggested, placing his hand on your arm, a gesture that made Carmy want to punch this asshole in his perfect jaw.

That was enough.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend.” Carmy took a step closer to Tom, folding his arms to flex his toned biceps. Tom was easily taller, but at this point Carmy would have liked his odds if he did have to lay this guy out

Tom looked a little surprised but didn’t move away from you “Relax, mate, we’re only talking aren’t we? Just an old friend hoping for a catch up…”

“You fuckin’ stupid? She said no thank you.” Carmy pushed Tom off you with a shove.

The other man looked like he was weighing up his options. He opened his mouth to speak but Carmy wouldn’t give him the chance.

“Go on, get the fuck outta here, she’s mine, fucking asshole”

“We should be going.” You added “Goodnight…” you linked your fingers with Carmy’s and led him out of the hall and into the corridor without a further word.

‘Shit you’ve fucked it by being a jealous weirdo. Fucking idiot’

He hoped this wasn’t going to be a fight. You hadn’t really fought, and he wondered if it would even come to that or if you’d just break up with him for making a scene.

Fucking apologize, idiot

“M’sorry about that. I meant you were mine like you’re my girlfriend not like my property or anything weird” he said as you reached the elevators.

“I know” you smiled at him and squeezed his hand as you pressed the call button “I appreciated you standing up for me. It was hot.”

Carmy turned to you a little surprised. “What?”

“It was a kinda sexy. Knowing you’d fight for me…” you said tone low as the doors opened and you both stepped in.

You’d pressed the button for your floor but the lift had barely started moving again before Carmy had hit the emergency stop.

His lips were on yours in a second, tongue slipping into your mouth, teeth biting and pulling on your lip as he pressed you up against the wall.

You let out a surprised throaty sound but responded in turn, hooking your leg around him, using the handrail to support you as your other hand made its way into his hair, pulling lightly as he left red marks on your neck.

Carmy could have sworn he heard the radio telling you, ‘We will have the lift up and running again in five minutes’ but he elected to ignore it, instead sliding a hand up your thigh and under your little black dress to your underwear. As soon as he grazed against the fabric, he could feel you wet and ready for him.

“Fuck you weren’t joking baby”

He touched you through the material putting just enough pressure on that you could almost feel him, as he started kissing you again.

“Stop messing with me, babe,” you muttered into his mouth.

“Okay okay” Carmy muttered “you really are my girl aren’t you” he said, pulling back to look at you”

“You know I am” you said voice low.

Carmy deftly moved the material to one side, stroking your sweet spot with his thumb, eliciting a moan out of you that went straight to him like fire.

“Like that babe” your head thrown back against the wall as he inserted a finger and then another, moving slowly in and out, as his thumb circled over again and again. He moved back a little to watch, savouring seeing you like this, knowing it was all for him, only for him.

“Carmy…” you pulled his hair a little giving him about open mouth, messy kiss, before dropping your head to suck on his neck in a way he knew would leave a mark.

He could feel you tightening around him, drawing close, and spurred on by the down right dirty sounds he was drawing from you, he picked up the pace, going faster and faster until you tensed up, biting lightly on his shoulder as your finish hit you.

You were only catching your breath, his hand still under your dress when you felt the clink and the elevator begin its rise again

“Okay, folks, that should be you moving again.” The crackled voice came from the speaker.

You didn’t say anything until you reached your floor, eyes too busy scanning the lift for CCTV, you didn’t know if you wanted there to be or not.

“Come on,” you kissed him as the doors opened. “Take me to our room and show me I’m your girl”

And for the second time tonight but with a lot more reassurance than the first time, Carmy didn’t have to be asked twice.