carmen loves when you wear his white shirt. he loves seeing the fullness of your breasts stretching the fabric gathered at the chest. he loves how the stiff peaks of your nipples are hugged with the soft cotton, especially when you’re both too desperate to paw each other’s clothes off and he’s mouthing hot and wet over the cloth to tongue them alive and at attention. he loves how it rides over your abdomen when you reach for something in his cabinets, he loves when it rides high enough to expose your navel, when you’re writhing on his bed and fisting it into your hands as he’s curling his fingers deep, deep inside your warm cunt.

carmen spitting in your mouth

carmen spitting in your mouth

carmen spitting in your mouth

carmen spitting in your mouth

his hand around your throat as his thumb and index finger prop your lower jaw open by the hinge, his usual arctic irises fucking blazing into midnight as he messily distributes his saliva, watches it coat your tongue, how you whine, and how it vibrates as it messily shakes out against his palm on your esophagus.

“swallow for me,” he coaxes. “swallow like you did f’me on your knees earlier.”

currently rewatching the bear (shocking, i know), and i would just like to appreciate luca's insistence that working with the best made him better. carmen doesn't even realize how much he inspires in others. he's always emphasizing how mikey's the funny one, mikey got along with people, and carmen isn't that. but he's still an influence. he's captivating in his own right, and yet his self-doubt, his complex relationship with his family, and his overall mental state blinds him from seeing that.

like... people want to be better because of you, man. people have different ways of inciting passion. we're reflections of each other.

the concept of carmy trying to quit smoking, weaning himself off, and sticking his head between your thighs every time he has an urge for a cigarette isn't talked about enough.

bonus points when you tell him it's okay to have one, and he does, reveling in long drags of a sapphire, blowing clouds along your pretty face, concentrating on not blowing his load as your mouth stretches over his cock.

getting a tattoo on your inner thigh so carmen has something to kiss before he’s sliding his tongue over your clit <3

I need to see that filthy one right about now

oh, babe, it's still in the editing stage! it's ROUGH, but since you popped up in my asks, here is a snippet (18+ only):

Your tits make for just-a-great-a canvas, he’s found. If he props himself above your abdomen, one knee at the side of you, his foot drawing up at the other until his leg is at a right angle, his tip always lines itself at the inception of the valley between your breasts. He cautiously focuses his aim to paint your cleavage while resisting the urge to stripe your neck and chin, earnestly observing slack-jawed as some dribbles over your nipples. Would you judge him if he sucked his cum off while tonguing around your areola as a dual effort of cleaning his mess and pebbling your nipple to frenetic attention? The uncontrollable sounds of pleasure petting his eardrums don’t signify negative judgment, but Carmen wouldn’t be Carmen without believing in his self-doubt. And you, you fucking angel, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t chase and stomp that out until its light dimmed. Sometimes that comes through words of reassurance and patience and other times it’s as simple as your howl of his name or your digits tugging his unkempt hair further into its mad man state.

kate baer, from And Yet: Poems; “These Days”

[ text ID: “my body ages, / my anger burns into a seam. / i am so annoyed by love / and still it comes.” ]

i'm still real busy, but um... sending carmy songs about sex? and watching him get all fidgety and blushy over it???

it actually physically pains me that i can't cup carmen's cheeks and praise him and tell him he's doing so well, that he can in fact enjoy things without them costing his performance and skill, that he's allowed to feel good and happy when he is and sad and frustrated when he isn't. it's okay to have emotions and no answers. i just want to sit and listen to him and validate every last thing he's told himself he's insane for thinking and feeling.

i have such a normal, domestic carmy fic sitting in my docs right next to the most filthy, feral carmy fic i've written thus far.

dry humping with carmy 🤧

i still have some requests to get through, but i have this idea in my head about reader being a waitress that is incredibly distracting to carmy in the restaurant. the sexual tension i'm fiending to write is sinful.

no but in actuality carmy would hate me because i'm a picky eater

Me wondering if Carmen even knew what group chat was before the work chat appeared. Lol

this is such a vile read �� (but valid, bc what homies he got, fr?) he probably had one with his chef friends that someone created on whatsapp. bet they talked shit about him a few times to test if he checked it. full of tons of pics luca sent of the back of carmen's head like he was an ancient cryptic he caught on tape.

They def have a gc without him

imagine you're chilling with him one day and you have to explain why the hell your phone keeps going off on the coffee table having forgotten to mute it, face burning as you read to him the choice words tina has for him after a particularly rough day at work. he's particularly annoyed (livid) that richie's even in it.

( this is carmenberzattosgf on my main!!)

Oh. My. God. Your most recent Carmy fic. I don’t think I can articulate how good it was. The way you wrote everything was so descriptive and fantastic?? Like holy shit-

Like like dude I cannot- it was so good. And the like about “his thigh”??? I SCREAMED

i'm proud of it, i must admit. i just couldn't stop thinking about the concept of carmen being sloppy and messy as he gives his girlfriend head on his office desk. like, maybe it's a bit unrealistic because of how rigid his rules can be and how he prides himself in his work, but i also imagine him so devoted and entranced by someone he cares for deeply. i'll stand by pussywhipped!carmen until i croak.

i think he's possessive, but not necessarily in a controlling sense, in a sense that he's afraid to lose out. so, yeah, that's his thigh, not anyone else's. those moans are for his ears and he'd put them on a record if he could. he's big on acts of service as a love language, so why wouldn't he eat out his girl and make her forget about her shitty ex-boyfriend and daydream about getting her pretty flowers that she would actually like??? i could write essays about this.

thank you for reading, though. i've been going through your stories and they always leave me foaming at the mouth!!