berzattolvrs

[berzattolvrs]

cw ₊ ˚ ⊹ f!reader, sexually explicit content, set after friends and family night, implied once casual/fwb arrangement, *rough* oral & fingering (f!recieving), fucking doesn't solve anything, mean!carmy, jealous & bratty!reader

carmen is furious. 

after being stuck in the walk-in, a heated argument with richie, breaking things off with claire, and your stubborn refusal to listen to his incessant voice notes that begged you to come to friends and family night, he needed to blow off steam; lots of it.

you swore that you'd never see carmen again; vowing to slam the door shut the moment he stepped foot on your doormat or tried to call you back. it was ridiculous when he expected you to show up. 

you couldn’t bear to be hurt again, especially not by him. 

despite the seething anger and bitter resentment that consumed you when he started seeing claire again, you still desperately longed for the way he fucked you: the sweet feeling of his thick girth filling you up inch by inch or how the rough pads of his fingertips roamed the contours of your body in a tender—bordering romantic way.

you knew these trysts and stolen moments at the back of the beef or tangled up in his place would eventually come to an end, after all, you were—they were just casual. 

no strings attached. no feelings. you felt foolish. 

on the lonely, touch-starved friday nights where you missed him just oh, so much, with a pillow stuck in between your thighs, you convinced yourself that you were just horny and that your insatiable lust was fleeting. surely anyone—someone much better and emotionally stable than carmen could give you just what you wanted. 

right?

maybe it was the way his chef whites hung loosely over his burly shoulders, how his sleeves were rolled up and the veins of his arms bulged out of his calloused flesh. the way he convinced you so easily into letting him in—just for tonight, one more time, it can’t hurt—beads of sweat gathering at his brow, and two seconds later, shoving you shamelessly against your front door; effortlessly tearing down the cemented brick wall you’d spent months carefully rebuilding with a gritty determination that bordered spite. 

you knew better. at least, you should’ve. 

one thing led to the next, and you found yourself here: your body spread out on your kitchen counter with your leg slung over his shoulder as his lips—hot and silky—slope harshly against the smooth, creamy expanse of your slick inner thighs.

you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why every alarm bell was sounding off in your head—begging your body to stiffen and forcefully resist the man in between your legs—was reduced to nothing more than indiscernible tv static the moment the wet cavern of his mouth suctioned firmly on your succulent folds.

“why didn't you fuckin’ come to opening night, huh?” carmen spat, punctuating each syllable with a harsh suck of your cunt. “been ignoring me for weeks, why’s that?”

you barely registered carmen’s words or your sagacious judgement for that matter. the last vestige of any wise reasoning was clouded by the blissful feeling of his feverish mouth on you, your nimble fingers threading patterns through his sweaty strands. 

“m'sorry, i was busy..” you writhed weakly, knowing it was a futile excuse. you subtly maneuvered your hips towards his face, feeling the tip of his nose graze against your clit nearly making you drool. “mmph...got a new job and—”

“and?” carmen jeered, retracting from your heat.

offended and deeply frustrated, you glared darkly at carmen. your gaze met his, a brief flicker of sweltering desire and humor gracing his blue irises. 

with a sudden keening cry, you quickly seized your legs around his head, trapping him in between your thighs. your shaky hands shot to pull on the back of his head, desperate to find purchase and coax him to continue.

"jesus fuck!" carmen grunted. "fuck!"

your boldness paid off, for carmen was nose deep in you once more. with the sweet, intoxicating scent of your slick luring him in, your hips churned wantonly against his face as his tongue pumped greedy circles against your throbbing core.

"jesus—fucking hell—for once in your life—stop. fucking. thinking." he gritted out gruffly. "i-i broke up with claire, happy?”

elated was an understatement. 

with a moment of relief washing over you, you suddenly felt two of carmen's tattooed digits plunge fiercely inside your gaping pussy. 

"shit!" you howled out, your velvety walls steeling and clenching against the punishing thrusts of his fingers as the euphoric, white-hot waves of release began to crash in. "hngh—carmy—what the fuck?"

your vision was obstructed by the tears that threatened to spill out from the swollen corners of your eyes; you wanted to scream. 

“you happy?” carmen sneered, your stomach fluttering at the way his pupils dilated the very moment he slipped a third finger into your core. 

you were so done for. 

“this is what you fuckin’ wanted, right?”

"carmen! fuck!" your teeth gritted hard enough to crack. carmen leaned back down, lapping at your raw, overstimulated flesh with a perfect precision; drawing out near sobs and an overwhelming feeling of pain and pleasure—you couldn’t make out which. 

with his free hand, he began to fumble with his belt, the metallic clasp clinking against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

carmen was hard. rock hard. achingly so. 

so hard, that a damp smear pooled dubiously on the cotton fabric of his boxers.

you needed him; he needed you. 

"legs open, now." carmen demanded, ravenously eyeing the slick dribbling down your thighs and onto the kitchen counter. “gonna show you how much i fuckin' missed you because you don’t fuckin’ believe me.”

juno's note ₊ ˚ ⊹ hey yallll.. hope u like! ദ്ദി >⩊< ) likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[berzattolvrs]

PICTURE YOU — NANAMI KENTO

⊹₊⋆— content: MDNI, afab + fem reader, reader engages in streaming for fun, nanami's a little bit of a perv here ooo, slight nsfw but def not tagged as full blown fluff, strip tease, solo male masturbation. chappell roan's picture you inspired this <3

1.4k words, drabble, oh nanami lovers i see the appeal now; scooch over ...

If someone told Nanami many moons ago that his after-work routine would now consist of him going straight home and skipping his usual stop at his local bakery, instead, opting to sit in his study’s office chair to switch on his computer and sit behind it for however many hours…

Well, he’d just think that person would be flat-out outlandish. 

There were many things the average working-class man could do with his time after work. Maybe catch up with friends and colleagues over some drinks, grab a bite to eat at that one self-serve restaurant a block away from their office, or even rest and wait to do the whole day all over again.

Sure, Nanami could’ve done any of this to while away his free time rather than falling victim to his same habits. But that no longer matters.

Because all the same, Nanami still shrugs off his navy blue blazer and haphazardly hangs it onto the back of his chair as he waits for his computer to start up. He doesn’t mind skipping out on all those things, especially when the rest of his evening would be spent with you.

Sinking into his chair, Nanami clicks on his preferred web browser and lets his fingers intuitively type his most frequented page into the search bar. He’s only two characters into typing the site’s name when the search engine predicts what he wants.

It started as an accident, really. However, he now likes to think of meeting you as a happy accident. But seriously, who intends to purposefully click on a pop-up ad that takes up a huge chunk of space on the online article that you’re reading? 

Certainly not Nanami.

Yet it still happened. Misclicking the ‘X’ button and pressing on the pop-up itself led him down a rabbit hole of clickbait-y articles, betting sites, and everything questionable of its legitimacy under the sun. Just his luck, right? 

But as he was about to exit from his umpteenth tab, the last one caught his eye. 

YOUR NEW FAVOURITE ESCAPE IS JUST ONE CLICK AWAY! WE SAVED YOU A SEAT IN CHAT!

Curiosity got the better of him which is how he got here; watching you stream.

Since then, you and your streams have become a part of his nightly routine.

It was tame at first, watching one of your videos turned into watching two or three. Then, his weekly visits of stumbling in to see you live would slowly escalate to your page being hidden deep in his bookmark folder for him to click on almost habitually every time he came home from work or a night out.

He was content with how he spent his evenings, and tonight was no different.

Nanami can’t remember how many times he has “stumbled” upon your channel, but it must’ve been a substantive amount because when he joins the chat, you’re already settled in your familiar setup— muted colours of green, beige, and pink decor scattered in the cozy corner bedroom where you stream. You’re fiddling with something off-camera and he notices the way you visibly perk up upon reading his screen name pop into your chat.

“Kento!” You give the camera a little wave, and his heart swells at the familiarity and warmth in your voice. He thinks he sees the look of relief settle in your eyes and he thinks he sees you relax into your bedding a little more after his arrival. “It’s good to see you back again! How was your day?” 

The comments in your chat start to flood in at your unexpected show of attention toward the one lucky viewer named Kento. Many commented on how it wasn’t “fair” or how lucky he was to get such an interaction, while the rest either spammed emojis tacked with your pseudonym or wrote in languages Nanami couldn’t understand.

But what they didn’t understand was that this was just one of the perks of being your top donor of the month. Well… months, plural.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nanami typed his response, It was fine.

Much to the delight of your online audience, you lean in close to your screen and silently read his comment to yourself. A puff of laughter escapes you at his curt answer and you draw your legs into a criss-cross position on your bedding to get more comfortable.

The thing about what you do during these live sessions is that you’re not any “ordinary” streamer…

The palms of your hands brush up and down against your bare thighs before they slide up the material of your sleep shorts and toward your breasts and squeeze. “Awh, really?” you question, your lips twisted into a cute pout and had Nanami’s own hands not drifted down to his lap on instinct to palm at the growing erection in his pants, he would have screenshotted the sight.

To put it simply, you were a camgirl. A fucking great one at that.

Your hands still are cupping your breasts through the fabric of your thin army-green tank top and it's evident that you aren’t wearing a bra with the way your nipples are practically poking through the material. “Just fine? Is there any way I can help you make it better?” 

There’s nothing Nanami wants more than that— even now, as he freed his cock from his tightening pants to give himself a few, slow torturous strokes. He didn’t want you to feel obligated like you owed him just because he gave you a hefty sum of tokens here and there to bump up your revenue.

He does that all because he wants to, because you’ve given new meaning to his day and give him something to look forward to. Chatting with you and hearing about the tiny tidbits of your life that you choose to share on the internet genuinely interested and had him coming back to you each time you went live. You just so happened to also be incredibly attractive on top of that.

All this to say, Nanami thinks you two have a better connection and share more in common than the other one-dimensional, greedy and porn-obsessed viewers who engage with your content, drunk off your strong sexual appeal.

His thumb rubs small, tight circles against his tip as he blatantly stares at how you continue to tease yourself and your viewers with soft foreplay. Pre-dribbles out from his slit, only for it to be spread against the length of his dick.

These deliberate actions continue on for a couple more seconds until Nanami realizes he hasn’t responded to you yet. Shaken out of his stupor, he carefully types with one hand, Its fine. Wanted to come and see how ur doing, thats all.

Excuse his lack of hanging apostrophes, typing with his non-dominant hand was harder than he thought.

Though, as soon as he hits enter, his comment is immediately lost in a sea of horny, downright depraved comments asking, no, begging for you to show ass bb, under you pov??, and his least favourite free dildo show today?

Cheapskates. 

Nanami watches you frown slightly and pull your hands away from your tits— much to many’s disappointment. What were you about to do?

“Hold on a sec,” you murmur, more to yourself than the people watching you. Your hands fly to your keyboard and you type away, writing God-knows-what.

He’s waiting for a message from you to appear in the chatroom, hoping that you’d tell these goons off for once, or maybe write to your moderation team to slow down the comments. But what he wasn’t expecting was the sound of a chime coming from his computer.

On the right-hand corner of the website’s screen, tired, brown eyes land on his default icon and glimpse one blaring red notification pinned to it— indicating that someone wrote to him.

A slight pinch of annoyance tinges Nanami’s brows. It’s probably a spam bot for all he knows, or some creep from your chat room trying to get to him because of you. In most cases, he’d ignore such things and go back to focusing on you. But something was nagging at him, prodding him to take a look and see what this notification was all about. 

His computer mouse hovers over the icon of his direct messages. He’ll be quick. You wouldn’t sporadically end your stream in a few minutes, especially not while he was gone. Hopefully. 

Nanami chances one last glance at you sitting all nice and pretty on his screen, before his page refreshes and brings him to his DMs. Whatever tiredness once was in his body is immediately shot out once he reads your username and views your sweet profile picture waiting in his inbox.

You personally messaged him. You searched for his handle, his user, amongst the thousands of users in your following and sought him out and all you wrote to him was,

wanna ditch them and go private? :3 <3

WRITERS BLOCK: ♾️ ME: 1. WE'RE SO BACK, GUYS!!!

[berzattolvrs]

sweet giggly sex with your fave where your noses are touching and you’re laughing into each other’s mouths and when you clench around him his moan is breathier than normal and you’re happy and safe and in love

[berzattolvrs]

☆ how they met!

popstar!reader x carmen berzatto

Everyone said that when she was in Chicago, she simply had to go to the Bear as her restaurant memory for the city. So of course, she’d booked herself a reservation. But the last few places she’d been at made such a big deal of her being there, that she decided to book this one under one of her friends’ names instead.

It didn’t matter. As soon as she walked in, Richie recognised her immediately. Changed everything around so her group sat at the best table, pushed all the chefs to get the food out as quickly as possible each course. The entire kitchen was freaking out, except for Carmen. He didn’t understand all the pressure, because he already had so much pressure. What was a little more?

“Hey, excuse me.” She stood with Richie when he collected her bill, pursing her lips. “Our food was really great tonight. Like, really. Do you think I could go back in the kitchen and thank the chef?”

Nobody did this. It wasn’t allowed. Practically unheard of. But of course, Richie said yes anyway. He asked her to wait a moment and then yelled at everyone over the noise to get their shit together, because the VIP was coming back there.

Carmen was the only one still yelling by the time she walked in. Richie pointed him out as the one who had cooked their meals, so she walked behind him, tapping his shoulder. He looked over, obviously confused.

“That nice guy says you’re the chef who made our dinner. I just wanted to say wow. Really, wow. I’ve never had food like that before, so thank you so much.” She smiled sweetly, and despite himself, he felt his heart melting a little bit. “Nice to meet you.”

Before she turned to leave, she gave the chef a hug, something that rendered the whole kitchen completely speechless for once. And later, when he was tidying up his apron, he felt something in his pocket. Without him noticing, she’d managed to slip him a piece of paper with her phone number on it. And on top of that, she’d left a more than generous tip. Maybe he ought to text to thank her…

like and reblog to promote if you can!!! i appreciate everything i can get <3 also please drop reqs in my inbox! i already have one that's coming but more are always always welcome since i love this pairing right now

creds to kodaswrld for the dividers!

[berzattolvrs]

Shower sex with carmy would be the hottest thing ever

Carmy coming home late from work and practically dragging you off the couch and into the bathroom. His hands frantically tug off your clothes as his lips press against yours. “Need you now. Bad day,” he mumbles against your mouth. Keeping his lips on you, he fumbles around until he can reach the handle to the shower, turning it to hot.

You don’t need any more convincing, pulling off his clothes with the same eagerness. Carmy takes in a sharp breath as you unbuckle his belt and slip your hand in to palm him over his boxers.

Carmy has one goal though—to be inside you—so he grips your wrist, pulling your hand out of his pants. He nearly falls over trying to kick his jeans off of his legs before pushing you in the shower.

The bathroom is already filled with the steam when Carmen tugs at your waist to pull your body flush with him. He’s already hard, length pressing against your stomach.

The heat of the water almost burns your skin, but you can’t find a reason to care—not when his hands are wrapping around the back of your thighs, and he’s whispering “jump” in your ear.

The cold of the tile against your back makes you gasp. Carmy wraps your legs around his hips before he steadily sinks into you. “Fuck, baby—always so ready for me.”

He needs this—he needs you—and that’s clear by the reckless pace of his hips. One of his hands stays wrapped around your waist, while the other cradles the back of your head, keeping you from hitting it against the wall. The soft gesture is a sharp contrast from the way his hips slam against you, drawing whine after whine from your lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach his peak, spilling deep inside you with a grown. It’s only then that he removes his hand from the back of your head, and presses his thumb to your clit. His hips lazily grind into you as his thumb rubs circles into you. “C’mon, baby. Know you need to—cum for me.”

Carmy has to hold you up for the rest of the shower because your legs feel like jelly. He takes the act of shampooing and conditioning your hair very seriously. You end the night in bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms, falling asleep to a show on in the background. It takes everything in Carmy’s being for him to get out of bed when his alarm goes off at 4am.

[berzattolvrs]

cw ₊ ˚ ⊹ f!reader, sexually explicit content, set after friends and family night, implied once casual/fwb arrangement, *rough* oral & fingering (f!recieving), fucking doesn't solve anything, mean!carmy, jealous & bratty!reader

carmen is furious. 

after being stuck in the walk-in, a heated argument with richie, breaking things off with claire, and your stubborn refusal to listen to his incessant voice notes that begged you to come to friends and family night, he needed to blow off steam; lots of it.

you swore that you'd never see carmen again; vowing to slam the door shut the moment he stepped foot on your doormat or tried to call you back. It was ridiculous when he expected you to show up. 

you couldn’t bear to be hurt again, especially not by him. 

despite the seething anger and bitter resentment that consumed you when he started seeing claire again, you still desperately longed for the way he fucked you: the sweet feeling of his thick girth filling you up inch by inch or how the rough pads of his fingertips roamed the contours of your body in a tender—bordering romantic way.

you knew these trysts and stolen moments at the back of the beef or tangled up in his place would eventually come to an end, after all, you were—they were just casual. 

no strings attached. no feelings. you felt foolish. 

on the lonely, touch-starved friday nights where you missed him just oh, so much, with a pillow stuck in between your thighs, you convinced yourself that you were just horny and that your insatiable lust was fleeting. surely anyone—someone much better and emotionally stable than carmen could give you just what you wanted. 

right?

maybe it was the way his chef whites hung loosely over his burly shoulders, how his sleeves were rolled up and the veins of his arms bulged out of his calloused flesh. the way he convinced you so easily into letting him in—just for tonight, one more time, it can’t hurt—beads of sweat gathering at his brow, and two seconds later, shoving you shamelessly against your front door; effortlessly tearing down the cemented brick wall you’d spent months carefully rebuilding with a gritty determination that bordered spite. 

you knew better. at least, you should’ve. 

one thing led to the next, and you found yourself here: your body spread out on your kitchen counter with your leg slung over his shoulder as his lips—hot and silky—slope harshly against the smooth, creamy expanse of your slick inner thighs.

you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why every alarm bell was sounding off in your head—begging your body to stiffen and forcefully resist the man in between your legs—was reduced to nothing more than indiscernible tv static the moment the wet cavern of his mouth suctioned firmly on your succulent folds.

“why didn't you fuckin’ come to opening night, huh?” carmen spat, punctuating each syllable with a harsh suck of your cunt. “been ignoring me for weeks, why’s that?”

you barely registered carmen’s words or your sagacious judgement for that matter. the last vestige of any wise reasoning was clouded by the blissful feeling of his feverish mouth on you, your nimble fingers threading patterns through his sweaty strands. 

“m'sorry, i was busy..” you writhed weakly, knowing it was a futile excuse. you subtly maneuvered your hips towards his face, feeling the tip of his nose graze against your clit nearly making you drool. “mmph...got a new job and—”

“and?” carmen jeered, retracting from your heat.

offended and deeply frustrated, you glared darkly at carmen. your gaze met his, a brief flicker of sweltering desire and humor gracing his blue irises. 

with a sudden keening cry, you quickly seized your legs around his head, trapping him in between your thighs. your shaky hands shot to pull on the back of his head, desperate to find purchase and coax him to continue.

"jesus fuck!" carmen grunted. "fuck!"

your boldness paid off, for carmen was nose deep in you once more. with the sweet, intoxicating scent of your slick luring him in, your hips churned wantonly against his face as his tongue pumped greedy circles against your throbbing core.

"jesus—fucking hell—for once in your life—stop. fucking. thinking." he gritted out gruffly. "i-i broke up with claire, happy?”

elated was an understatement. 

with a moment of relief washing over you, you suddenly felt two of carmen's tattooed digits plunge fiercely inside your gaping pussy. 

"shit!" you howled out, your velvety walls steeling and clenching against the punishing thrusts of his fingers as the euphoric, white-hot waves of release began to crash in. "hngh—carmy—what the fuck?"

your vision was obstructed by the tears that threatened to spill out from the swollen corners of your eyes; you wanted to scream. 

“you happy?” carmen sneered, your stomach fluttering at the way his pupils dilated the very moment he slipped a third finger into your core. 

you were so done for. 

“this is what you fuckin’ wanted, right?” "carmen! fuck!" your teeth gritted hard enough to crack. carmen leaned back down, lapping at your raw, overstimulated flesh with a perfect precision; drawing out near sobs and an overwhelming feeling of pain and pleasure—you couldn’t make out which. 

with his free hand, he began to fumble with his belt, the metallic clasp clinking against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

carmen was hard. rock hard. achingly so. 

so hard, that a damp smear pooled dubiously on the cotton fabric of his boxers.

you needed him; he needed you. 

"legs open, now." carmen demanded, ravenously eyeing the slick dribbling down your thighs and onto the kitchen counter. “gonna show you how much i fuckin' missed you because you don’t fuckin’ believe me.”

juno's note ₊ ˚ ⊹ hey yallll.. hope u like! ദ്ദി >⩊< ) likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[berzattolvrs]

like a month or so ago i read like two blurbs about carmy smoking when u ride him/suck him off and i’ve never stopped thinking about it

[berzattolvrs]

cw ₊ ˚ ⊹ f!reader, sexually explicit content, set after friends and family night, implied once casual/fwb arrangement, *rough* oral & fingering (f!recieving), fucking doesn't solve anything, mean!carmy, jealous & bratty!reader

carmen is furious. 

after being stuck in the walk-in, a heated argument with richie, breaking things off with claire, and your stubborn refusal to listen to his incessant voice notes that begged you to come to friends and family night, he needed to blow off steam; lots of it.

you swore that you'd never see carmen again; vowing to slam the door shut the moment he stepped foot on your doormat or tried to call you back. it was ridiculous when he expected you to show up. 

you couldn’t bear to be hurt again, especially not by him. 

despite the seething anger and bitter resentment that consumed you when he started seeing claire again, you still desperately longed for the way he fucked you: the sweet feeling of his thick girth filling you up inch by inch or how the rough pads of his fingertips roamed the contours of your body in a tender—bordering romantic way.

you knew these trysts and stolen moments at the back of the beef or tangled up in his place would eventually come to an end, after all, you were—they were just casual. 

no strings attached. no feelings. you felt foolish. 

on the lonely, touch-starved friday nights where you missed him just oh, so much, with a pillow stuck in between your thighs, you convinced yourself that you were just horny and that your insatiable lust was fleeting. surely anyone—someone much better and emotionally stable than carmen could give you just what you wanted. 

right?

maybe it was the way his chef whites hung loosely over his burly shoulders, how his sleeves were rolled up and the veins of his arms bulged out of his calloused flesh. the way he convinced you so easily into letting him in—just for tonight, one more time, it can’t hurt—beads of sweat gathering at his brow, and two seconds later, shoving you shamelessly against your front door; effortlessly tearing down the cemented brick wall you’d spent months carefully rebuilding with a gritty determination that bordered spite. 

you knew better. at least, you should’ve. 

one thing led to the next, and you found yourself here: your body spread out on your kitchen counter with your leg slung over his shoulder as his lips—hot and silky—slope harshly against the smooth, creamy expanse of your slick inner thighs.

you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why every alarm bell was sounding off in your head—begging your body to stiffen and forcefully resist the man in between your legs—was reduced to nothing more than indiscernible tv static the moment the wet cavern of his mouth suctioned firmly on your succulent folds.

“why didn't you fuckin’ come to opening night, huh?” carmen spat, punctuating each syllable with a harsh suck of your cunt. “been ignoring me for weeks, why’s that?”

you barely registered carmen’s words or your sagacious judgement for that matter. the last vestige of any wise reasoning was clouded by the blissful feeling of his feverish mouth on you, your nimble fingers threading patterns through his sweaty strands. 

“m'sorry, i was busy..” you writhed weakly, knowing it was a futile excuse. you subtly maneuvered your hips towards his face, feeling the tip of his nose graze against your clit nearly making you drool. “mmph...got a new job and—”

“and?” carmen jeered, retracting from your heat.

offended and deeply frustrated, you glared darkly at carmen. your gaze met his, a brief flicker of sweltering desire and humor gracing his blue irises. 

with a sudden keening cry, you quickly seized your legs around his head, trapping him in between your thighs. your shaky hands shot to pull on the back of his head, desperate to find purchase and coax him to continue.

"jesus fuck!" carmen grunted. "fuck!"

your boldness paid off, for carmen was nose deep in you once more. with the sweet, intoxicating scent of your slick luring him in, your hips churned wantonly against his face as his tongue pumped greedy circles against your throbbing core.

"jesus—fucking hell—for once in your life—stop. fucking. thinking." he gritted out gruffly. "i-i broke up with claire, happy?”

elated was an understatement. 

with a moment of relief washing over you, you suddenly felt two of carmen's tattooed digits plunge fiercely inside your gaping pussy. 

"shit!" you howled out, your velvety walls steeling and clenching against the punishing thrusts of his fingers as the euphoric, white-hot waves of release began to crash in. "hngh—carmy—what the fuck?"

your vision was obstructed by the tears that threatened to spill out from the swollen corners of your eyes; you wanted to scream. 

“you happy?” carmen sneered, your stomach fluttering at the way his pupils dilated the very moment he slipped a third finger into your core. 

you were so done for. 

“this is what you fuckin’ wanted, right?”

"carmen! fuck!" your teeth gritted hard enough to crack. carmen leaned back down, lapping at your raw, overstimulated flesh with a perfect precision; drawing out near sobs and an overwhelming feeling of pain and pleasure—you couldn’t make out which. 

with his free hand, he began to fumble with his belt, the metallic clasp clinking against the hard muscles of his lower abdomen.

carmen was hard. rock hard. achingly so. 

so hard, that a damp smear pooled dubiously on the cotton fabric of his boxers.

you needed him; he needed you. 

"legs open, now." carmen demanded, ravenously eyeing the slick dribbling down your thighs and onto the kitchen counter. “gonna show you how much i fuckin' missed you because you don’t fuckin’ believe me.”

juno's note ₊ ˚ ⊹ hey yallll.. hope u like! ദ്ദി >⩊< ) likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[berzattolvrs]

If they don’t get their shit together in S5 I SWEAR

[berzattolvrs]

[berzattolvrs]

A Friday evening with Kento always begins with a kiss at the door.

A ritual for every day: to kiss where your world's part for those painstaking hours. Regardless of the time of day, how sleepy the other is, what you're doing. But it's always different at this point of the week, sweeter and longer. Occasionally a hand placed at the back of your head, thumb over your neck as you welcome him home and he responds in the best way he knows.

Then your fingers trail over his body, smiling bashfully up at him as he grins, tugging at the collar of his tie until you can slip it over his head. Murmurs his thanks and caresses your cheek with calloused hands, places his lips on your forehead for good measure. You start giggling out of sheer bliss, the comfort of his presence overwhelming, and he always follows soon after.

It ends up with both of you in the shower, cheeks so high up to your ears that they hurt, loofa featherlight over his skin as you help him wash off his day. The same done for you afterwards, teasing and soapy circles drawn over your nipples before you swat the sly affection away. Drying each other off, towels brushed over skin, routine falling into place.

Over dinner Kento has his hand around your waist, even while you both cook and even when he's pouring two glasses of a whiskey you gifted him; even when you finally sit down to eat and he's shuffled the seats at the table to be side by side instead of across from one another. Forkfuls of food fed to you, eyes locking, laughter shared when the food slips away before you can get your mouth over it.

The night drags on even after you're well fed. Routine not as consistent now, a million different ways to go from here. The sofa your usual getaway with him, his chest underneath your head as you scroll on the TV trying to decide something to watch. Usually when he's not up for talking, when his eyelids are drooping and he won't admit it until you're shaking him awake halfway through the movie to guide him to bed.

Sometimes he talks though. About work, about the stress and the long days and anxiety that he doesn't like to share. His feet in your lap, glasses of that smooth brown liquor in your hands as you don't just hear but listen to him. Nodding, making sure he knows he's understood. Asking questions when you don't understand or feel there's more he wants to say but doesn't know if he should. Nights are more tender in these instances: usually end with him in your arms, nails scratching at his scalp as you lull both him and yourself to a dreamless sleep.

And sometimes, if you've both had weeks good enough to keep your cheerful glances consistent throughout the evening, Kento will take you to bed. A little bit tipsy, beaming, sitting on his lap in the bed and leaning forward to kiss him. Taste in his mouth addictive. Both of you taking from each other as much as you need. Satiated by the end, grinning even as you fall asleep side by side, tucked under the blankets.

It doesn't always take saying I love you with Kento to know that it's true.

[berzattolvrs]

dating carmy headcanons

(nsfw under cut)

carmy doesn't need to speak when he comes home from work anymore, you understand what he needs— usually a hug then a shower. he trusts himself to you completely most days, letting you half-carry him to the couch, then the shower, then to bed, all the way until he passes out in your arms, content and peaceful for once.

carmy sometimes feels like cooking is only routine for him now and not his passion, only to be reminded that no, he absolutely loves this as he watches you taste one of his new recipes. he bickers with you, all playful and lighthearted, about how you should be eating it, quizzes you on the spices he added and gives you gentle bites when you get them wrong. on another note, he's noticing that you’re getting more and more wrong, all with a smile on your face.

carmy sometimes invites you to the beef near closing, on days where he feels like his head won’t explode immediately after cleanup, just for you to crawl up on his lap while he does paperwork. he knows he stays too long sometimes, too focused on making sure the place doesn’t go to shit, but he also can’t stand the thought of being away from you every time.

carmy learns that even when he doesn’t invite you, you’ll show up if he’s there after midnight. he lets you drive him home (after a good amount of complaining) and take care of him.

carmy isn’t sure how to express his love for you, verbal affirmations feel like they’re not enough, not compared to how much you mean to him. so he cooks, parts of your personality is somehow always in dishes. he draws. you, but also things that remind him of you and leaves them in your living room.

carmy thinks he controls himself well until the next morning when he sees the line of love bites from your neck to the insides of your thighs and flushes extremely red, babbling on about how he’s sorry. he’s not sorry, because those marks never fade and even seem to multiply.

carmy stays between your legs for hours, you practically have to physically pry him off when it’s too much, he listens to your overwhelmed mumbling with a huge, dazed smile, his face covered in your arousal. bonus points for when you tug him back up by his hair because that is when he’ll let out a desperate whine and press his mouth to yours hungrily.

carmy gets offended when you think he won’t want visible love bites, he will get teased, but he also will tell people (mostly richie) to fuck off. he now regularly sports marks on his neck (and torso and thighs, but that’s not for anyone other than you to see).

carmy holds your jaw with his hand as he fucks you, just so you don’t hide your face and those pretty sounds that spill out. his thumb is half pulling your bottom lip and half in your mouth to keep it open.

carmy tries to keep his eyes on your face, he really does, but they keep trailing down to the bounce of your tits, to your squirming form, and before he knows it, he’s dipping his head down to leave marks all over your chest, letting out obscene noises.

carmy hugs you tight afterwards, then his hands rub over your legs to comfort the shake before he eventually picks you up to carry you over to the shower. he’s tired himself, but somehow that’s forgotten when you’re letting out small hums and whines as he cleans you up in the shower. safe to say you have to clean up all over again before getting out of the shower each time.

idk what this is. are these even headcanons? should some of these be turned into blurbs? am i just daydreaming about dating him? who knows!

thank you @uzmacchiato for the dividers !

[berzattolvrs]

ᝰ .ᐟ TAGS . . .

please filter any tags as necessary! potentially triggering content will be tagged as: cw [trigger]

#berzattolvrs ✧ ˖ — all my writing, including thirsts and full-length works!

#୨୧ ; juno's library ✧ ˖ — works you need to check out right neowwww. nsfw works will be tagged with #nsfw

#୨୧ ; juno answers ✧ ˖

#୨୧ ; juno yaps ✧ ˖

#୨୧ ; juno thirsts ✧ ˖

#art / #gifs / #visuals / #thirsts

#ask games / #tag games

[berzattolvrs]

✧ ₊ CARMEN BERZATTO

carmen is furious (drabble; nsfw) ↳ you wouldn't show up to friends and family night.

carmen ‘oral fixation’ berzatto (coming soon!)

[berzattolvrs]

nothing to see here (yet)

[berzattolvrs]

ᝰ .ᐟ BERZATTOLVRS' MASTERLIST . . .

alllll my writing--musings and full-length works--will be tagged under #berzattolvrs ✧ ˖

FANDOMS .ᐟ

— jujutsu kaisen

— the bear

— attack on titan

. . . more to come !

[berzattolvrs]

ᝰ .ᐟ RULEBOOK + ETIQUETTE . . .

looking for the masterlist? read through the rules to find it! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

⤷ BYF .ᐟ

do not plagiarize, translate, or feed any of my works into ai.

basic dni criteria applies. do not be an asshole.

please do not bring any discourse or drama into my blog! we're here to chill and have fun.

minors do not interact with this blog. while i cannot police what you do online, in the event i find out you're underage, you will be blocked.

⤷ WRITING .ᐟ

at the moment, i am not taking requests! however, thirsts and ideas are MORE than welcome :3 (if i reallyyyy like them, they may be written!!) my inbox is always open! masterlist here.

my readers are typically gender neutral unless stated otherwise! with smut, i write with an afab reader/anatomy in mind.

i do not write: male readers, underage, noncon, incest/stepcest, bodily fluids, extreme kinks... you get the gist of it. i will update this list as time goes on.

i choose to write on my own accord, fanfiction is my pastime! please don’t rush me.