#screw you inbox

[kekstala]

For the people who had been asking themselves where‘ve been the past 2 weeks…well

you can blame this piece of artwork right here.

Since I‘d done the sketch back then in one of my ask answers, I‘d planned to color it as well, considering the sketch looked nice enough and the story/author @angelabsol totally deserved a fully finished fanart not just a lame doodle…

But man…made this pic make me WORK for it.

No jokes, I perhaps redid this picture like 5 or 6 times because I wasn‘t satisfied with the colors or the shading or…other stuff….

So yeah, thats basically what my two weeks looked like, redrawing one artwork over and over pfff

I hope you guys like it lol

Oh and also feel free to check out the story this pic‘s based upon as well - it‘s really well written and offers a great „What if“ scenario <3

[free-luigi-mangione]

Damn you’re delusional. The second a luigi supporter is accepting and is aware he committed the crime, you libtards are quick to say we’re licking boots and not real supporters. Luigi would hate you guys. Alright, I’ll see you in the future when he isn’t with us or when he gets convicted, sadly.

you anon i need you to both hold your horses and hold your vicious tongue. i'll spell this out for you since you have worse reading comprehension than the average person on the piss poor reading comprehension website.

even if Luigi himself says he did it, he deserves a fair trial. he deserves to be presumed innocent. because both of these are rights afforded to him by the constitution of his country. and because even if he did in fact do it, he hasn't said that and he has pleaded not guilty, the prosecution has to actually prove he is guilty beyond any reasonable doubt. and from what we know of the evidence there's plenty of reasonable doubt. moreover Luigi has nowhere not for a single second tried to kill himself. if he had indeed done it and he wanted to kill himself, he had to have had plenty of time before he got arrested – five whole days in fact. he has never shown himself to want to be a martyr or a symbol of a resistance movement that the people of his country can't even organize properly/very effectively. if he did want to make himself a symbol or a martyr like the way you want him to be, he could have simply given himself up to the authorities after the deed was done. he could have confessed everything to the cops, then or at the time of his arrest or anytime in between or even in the future. but that hasn't happened and that won't happen. Luigi and his legal team are fighting the charges and will continue fighting the charges until it ends with him being killed by the death penalty (extremely unlikely at NY), or rotting in prison because of LWOP, or getting acquitted due to a number of reasons. moreover he does not want to die and has clearly shown that he in fact wants to live, and it doesn't matter if he did it or not. he should be able to live. his right to life should not be taken away from him. it is the most fundamental of all human rights. death penalties are the most barbaric tools still kept alive in the modern society to enforce organised violence from the people in power. Luigi also deserves the right to live properly, not just survive somehow in LWOP. because like people like you think, he did it but you support him for it. so clearly you should also be wanting him to be free and to be able to live the life that he wants to live?? but of course not. y'all are dumb that way. also making Luigi a martyr or a symbol of a revolution that will probably never happen (at least not in a country like USA where there has never been a successful revolution in history because the majority population does not know how to organise at all) is absolutely useless. Luigi would lose his life for nothing. the dumbass population which would benefit from his alleged actions (and are already benefitting now) does not really care whether he lives or dies. and most importantly, like i said, he doesn't even want to die, he's never wanted to die. even in prison, he's written in a letter that the lorax is such a fundamental story that it “will be so critical to read to my kids”. the quoted part is me directly quoting that letter word by word by the way. so like how dare you want to take away his life all while saying you support him?? if you truly wanted to support him you'd understand that the letter of the law doesn't matter for his case even if he did it, only the spirit of the law matters and anybody on the jury should judge his case only by their hearts and not their heads. and since you seem to be the sort to think that the letter of the law is an absolutely fundamental aspect and nothing else can come out of it, you seem to be the libtard to me, the sort of person who'd say well he murdered a man and i can never justify it so he should die, an eye for an eye. let me tell you anon, an eye for an eye only works until everybody is blind. and everybody would soon become blind if an eye for an eye is actually followed everywhere in real life. also because you seem to be too dumb to understand a lot of things about how the law actually works, i'd request you to find out what is jury nullification and exactly how it works, you of all people need to learn that lesson because you seem to not at all understand the concept of laws without morals being useless.

[tojiscrack]

HAIIII I CAME FROM AO3 !!! i love liar liar mwak i first read it during summer and i wanted to reread it today so after a good hour of scrolling through the megumi/reader tag i found it again and im so glad i did tehehe i love it sm thank u for putting all that effort in it its super funny and stuff <3

liar, liar masterlist here:

i’m blushing so hard stop 😭

i love my ao3 readersssss (i’ve still yet to respond to all the cute comments they’d left behind on the previous chapters 😟).

WELCOME TO THE TUMBLR LL CREW 😭 ty for ur support over the last couple of months (or however long you’ve been silently lurking here for)! you’re so sweet for dropping by and showing some extra support 😫🫶🏽

me rn:

[andr0nap-02]

hello yes there was an invitation and like a vampire i can now be here

respectfully your specbio stuff has been soooooooooo fuckin tasty. the raptor claw with locking action?? obsessed. do you have concepts for any of the other hex so far, or ideas/themes you want to incorporate?

YAYYY hello!!! tysm!!! :D

ahh im so happy the locking tendon was understandable!!! originally it was just a design thing to break up the typical raptor claw shape but it has utility now :3

i have a bunch of ideas i wanna mess around with!! all still work in progress as i try to figure out the details and how to incorporate them into their designs. allow me to infodump ab some of those:

amirs eyes can rotate to sharpen his vision at different angles. vertical pupils are helpful in the tight streets of hollvania, esp when moving at mach 5. the horizontal position is more for combat and moving around open spaces where having a wide field of vision is necessary. the beaded shape boosts depth perception

(note: it doesnt blurr his vision at the edges this much, its just for better visual)

he has a second, smaller set of eyes that only detect motion. he cant really "see" thru them, its more of a subconscious thing in his brain that processes additional info to fills in the blanks when hes moving too fast for just his eyes to keep up

hes like a overgrown hummingbird. he needs to maintain a constant energy balance or he will slip into torpor and pass out. if he has too much charge in his system without an outlet it will fuck with his nerves and give him a seizure

arthurs horn is a sensory organ, not a weapon. if you hit it hard enough you will stun him for a while and fuck up his vision. with being half blind he has to rely on it to see better, esp in low light conditions

he has a dark nictitating membrane to prevent him from flashbanging himself when using radial blind. natural shades!

on the topic of radial blind, its activated using the blade on his tail. he coats the surface in residue void energy (its why he can breathe ""fire"", the energy manifests in a special organ) and turns it into the exalted blade. when it gets to an excited state (by overcoating and slamming it against surfaces to make it more volatile) it discharges into a bright flash (glavenus has been a huge inspo for monster!arthur with its theme also being Sword)

quincy can camouflage himself and turn "invisible" even without using abilities. hes covered in feathers that have an odd (void influenced) iridescence and depending on the way theyre tilted, they will change color and break up his shape, making him very hard to spot when immobile. it works best when viewed from one angle, so he will usually deploy it when latched onto a wall or ceiling or perching on a tree

the guy has legs for days, hes built like a weird long bittern in the way hes able to move around. also slinky spine! watch him twist himself into a pretzel to take a trickshot

he can spit up a ball of liquid nitrogen to freeze something for a short duration (like the alt fire of neutralizer). it gives him a really sore throat tho

aoi uses her abilities differently than a standard mag. given that she can quite literally liquidize metal and shape it into whatever she wants, shes gotten creative with it. besides weapons and tools she also covers herself in the stuff, letting it solidify and turns herself into a walking bulletproof tank at the cost of mobility

she also sleeps with only one half of her brain shut down at a time, like a dolphin. a part of her needs to remain active at all times to maintain her powers or they WILL kill her. you can tell when she slept too deeply by checking for burst blood vessels (esp in her eyes)

theres a compass in her brain that always knows which way north is by sensing earths magnetic field. gives her a great sense of direction in open spaces! useless everywhere else

eleanor is horrifyingly good at tracking things/people with her horn being one giant sensory organ. if it can be marked with pheromones she WILL find it. this in addition to the psychic stuff gives her shrimp color levels of migraines

she has some weird stuff going on internally due to the high lvls of technocyte in her system. shes like.. in a constant state of mutation. it kinda makes her closer to nidus than nyx in some ways

she sees shrimp colors (im half joking here but she does see a much wider color spectrum than the average human, like going into the ultraviolet range)

letties saliva has healing properties and is able to solidify when coming into prolonged contact with air bc of some sort of silicone-like protein. makes for great wound dressing and a makeshift glue, unfort everyone is apprehensive about being spit on

her lobster tail has a bunch of little grabby legs on the underside that are great for carrying extra equipment (and rats) ((probably would be a great swimmer thanks to that tail but given that the only deep water in hollvania are the sewers we will never truly find out)

she has another smaller set of arms tucked away. theyre weak so theyre rarely used for anything more than holding small objects

i am. normal about this au-

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I wish I was kidding bc this is so stupid but last night I had a dream that I owned the Litjoy copies of Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom only to wake up this morning and not have them and now I’m sad

And what’s worse is that this is coming on top of a dream I had earlier this week where Waterstones were releasing a hardback bind of the duology together in one big book and it wasn’t even that I owned it okay it was that they emailed me to say it was going to be released and I went to preorder it but then I woke up

So yeah I’m very boring, but I’m also sad

[jaggybot3000]

your art is so peak it must be consumed.

If you HAD to fist fight one of them which would it be .

yayyy hai thank you^_^

good question...none, i would feel too bad fighting with any of hms at all(Mind. not that i think i'd win but i'd like to take a few swings at him before i go)

[astonmartingf]

is it new fernando fic 😏

hmm you reminded me of the bajillion nando wips/drafts/ideas i have but i fear none of them is a fernando wip... y'know i think it's because i'm so fucking sad and disappointed at that team, y'all are not getting nando fics soon i fear... i had this really nice wip about him winning but now it's just not seeing the day if light because apparently that won't happen any time soon :/

all this yapping for what? what? tldr: NO NANDO WIP/FIC IN THE DRAFTS 🥹😭 it's a bunch of random ideas i got (usually that's how it starts) but at least i have it written out!!!! one thing remains is that i will find a way to insert dilfs and i did just that 🥹👍

[cagesings]

@heygutlcss / riff sent: “ i love you. i’m sorry. ”

she doesn't want to talk to him. it seems whenever they fight, everyone else on the farm picks up on it. people noticed when riff didn't show up for any of the meals for three days straight, even though she avoided any and all questions about it ( it was rare to see the two of them separated; even rarer for mrs. mclellan not to be seen sitting next to her husband during meals, knees brushing under the table or gripping at his hands on the days she looked paler ). earlier, johanna went as far as to snap at lucille for not keeping up with her. if there was one person she never tried to get irritated with, it was lucille who was hardly more than a child. whatever happened, it was worse than the previous times. it was worse than the morning after their wedding night.

avoiding her husband was more difficult than she thought it would be. when he disappeared for those three days, it was him avoiding her. johanna doesn't know going into town alone and despite being the main caretaker of their finances, couldn't bare to spend any of it on an inn. not when they were saving up for a house. both of them are stubborn people. trying to out stubborn the other was like a dog trying to chase it's tail. unlike that dog, they caught up to each other eventually. johanna made him talk about what happened with uncle at some point. riff brought her to a hospital at some point. but they never had an argument like that before. johanna can't remember a single time where she had raised her voice before that. they fought before. over her desire to get a job, over each other's respective health, over the morning after a night that was soft and sweet and the sudden swift in tone afterwards. never a fight like that.

they knew exactly how to hurt each other. they've lived with each other long enough and their names have been on that marriage certificate for enough time that they know exactly what's considered off limits and what's eating the other alive. part of this aching, johanna thinks to herself, is exactly how they've stung each other. she never meant to bring up the judge in comparison to him. she never wanted to confront the ways she's broken so verbally. despite all of the wedding anniversaries that they've celebrated together, the memories associated with being called mine blocked out everything else. johanna didn't want to try to explain herself in words they both understood. she yelled and she hurt him.

he hurt her, too.

she wants to stay hidden where she is. cheek pressed against the wood of the barn. wedding ring ( the one he made from his spoon when they were at the church ), in her lap, two fingers preventing it from falling onto the dirt floor. head swirling with thoughts of how possessive her husband could be and how much she misses him. at the sound of his voice, johanna forces herself not to look at him. she can see riff out of the corner of her eye; not nearly well enough to read his expression, only to tense as if he's come back just to throw another hurtful thing in her face and leave.

he doesn't.

johanna lifts a hand to wipe away a tear.

❝ can you say that? ❞ how else am i supposed to say i love you? what she called possessiveness, he called love. she takes a quivering breath. ❝ can you say that instead of . . . ❞ they both know what she's talking about. instead of calling me "mine." ❝ can we just tell each other that we love them? ❞ as if they were a more normal couple. as if they haven't been through everything that they have. ❝ i love you. i couldn't even go that far from you. i've just been waiting . . . ❞ she doesn't bother to wipe away any more of her tears as she looks back at him. to see the hurt in his expression. ❝ i'm sorry. i said horrible things. i'm sorry. ❞

[moeyoken]

‘  life imitates art,  they say.  i didn’t believe it until i started to notice the way your eyelashes look so much like tiny ink stroke.  ’ uh oh koto's coming for u dandy man

" i met an old woman back when i sold medicine. a painter from edo. " like koto, she said he was a beautiful thing. everything about him was beautiful, but the most beautiful were his eyes. they resemble wolf eyes, she said, black like the ink on my brush.

she showed it to him. told him to take a look. she painted his eyes. he sometimes got to watch her bony fingers attempt at capturing the shape, the thickness, the perfect brush strokes. hijikata leaned over to koto. he was so close, as if personal space was no longer a thing. his carmine wolf eyes bore deeply into hers. a blink and his lashes flutter, ink on a snow white canvas flickering up and down.

no, it still ain't right.

" what more do you see? tell me. " the old painter tended to get frustrated a lot. toshizō at the time thought she was marvelous. he could not get why she seemed so angry crumpling up her papers and throwing them off to the lonesome corners of her decrepit hut. " she said she was missing something in them. "

@dayrisen

[raekensluver]

They took teen wolf from our Netflix in my country so now I have to use a VPN🥲 (still gonna watch again tho)

ugh noooo that's always the worst. i watch teen wolf on prime video and i'm hoping and praying it stays forever 🙏.

[gumpistol]

@destdevel, colt hunn, said: "Hey kiddo, y'aint much 'round other cowboys, eh?"

   ❝ uhh ... ❞ brows are down-turned, features slightly slack as the straw hat blinks slowly with a wide, blank stare. there's a moment of processing — rusty, unused cogs within his brain creaking. one hand lifts up, pushing woven hat aside on his head just enough to scratch a forefinger against sweat-laden raven locks.  ❝ well duuuh, i'm a pirate! my friends are pirates! why would there be cowboys?? there's no cows. ❞ there's at least a couple things luffy is not grasping here.

unprompted / always accepting

[bolides]

@collectalong said: "so... have you gotten used to this mind-rotting experience yet?"

large watery eyes blink once, then twice, then a third time out of sync.

"y... you can't be s-serious. it's been--" pomni checks her wrist. there is no watch. "--less than a full day! how am i expected to get used to this insane place that i'm still not even fully sure isn't really a dream yet!!"

her voice verges on manic at the end, gloved hands pulling hard at the dangling ends of her jester's hat. with a cartoonish rubber stretch sound.

"have you even gotten used to it, yet, kinger?!"

[vettelsvee]

THE MOMENT I KNEW | Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: After a few races where he didn't get the results he expected, Max decides to go out with some friends to disconnect from everything. Unluckily, one of those days when he arrives home after having some drinks, he finds out that he missed his girlfriend's birthday as soon as he sees the cake she ordered on the trash ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe something angsty?? Like maybe bro goes out with his friends and forgets readers bday until he sees the cake in the trash can and realizes bro screwed up

WORD COUNT: 2007

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of being drunk, angst

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: I've absolutely loved this one my God. With this fic, we mark a total of 6196 words written this week (not counting my uni essays and other several projects), so I'm quite proud about that! Also, thank you so much for the support all this week, hope you liked all the fics! I'll be uploading this upcoming week's posts tomorrow. Let me know in the comments or on the anon inbox your thoughts on this one! See you next week :) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Max stumbled into your apartment, fumbling with the keys and opening the door with trembling hands, his pounding headache reminding him that it wouldn’t be this bad if he’d listened to the bartender’s advice to stop after the last gin tonic.

As soon as he stepped inside, he froze in the doorway, scanning everything as if it were his first time entering the place, even though he had been living there for nearly five years, the last two with you. He took a few unsteady steps toward the small entryway counter, where he dropped his keys and realized the silence was far heavier than he had anticipated.

His laughter, faint and fueled by the false sense of security that alcohol had provided, quickly dissipated. Taking a cautious step further into the living room, he noticed there were no lights on, no plates or leftover food on the small coffee table in front of the TV, and most strikingly, you were neither sprawled out on the couch watching one of the romantic movies you adored nor curled up asleep with one of your cats.

Despite the glaring signs, Max didn’t panic, at least not as much as he should have, even though something inside him whispered that the situation didn’t sit right.

It wasn’t until he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water and rounded the island that his foot stumbled slightly, nearly sending him sprawling to the floor. Puzzled, he looked down to see what had caused him to trip. His heart sank when his eyes landed on a discarded box, its lid broken as if it had been thrown to the floor, angrily, on purpose.

That’s when reality hit him like a freight train.

He turned his gaze to the left, where the trash can stood partially open. Inside, he saw an untouched cake, decorated with intricate floral designs and a message that read, “Happy Birthday, Y/N!” The sight struck him like a blow to the chest, the pressure so intense it made him want to vomit.

“No… No, it wasn’t today…” 

Desperately, and trying to figure out what to do, Max ran his hands through his hair, as if that might somehow help him calm down. His breathing grew more erratic with each passing second, his eyes glued to the cake. It didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how he had managed to forget such an important date… you, his girlfriend’s, birthday. Something so obvious had suddenly spiraled into a waking nightmare.

He noticed his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he checked for any missed calls or messages from you, only to realize after several failed attempts to turn it on that it was dead. He blamed his drunkenness not only for not noticing he didn’t have his phone with him or that it was out of battery, but for forgetting such a meaningful day and breaking every promise he had made to you.

Deep down, though, he knew all the excuses were hollow. Any justification he tried to offer would be nothing but foolishness.

Setting the phone back on the counter, he decided not to waste any more time. He headed toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, and though the lights were off, he could make out your silhouette lying on the bed, your back turned to him. You gave no sign that you had noticed his arrival. The only sound in the room was your muffled, quiet sobs. As Max stepped closer, he saw you were clutching a pillow tightly, as if it were your only source of comfort.

That was the moment Max realized he couldn’t avoid facing the situation, no matter how impossible it felt to fix things right away.

“Y/N...” he said softly.

You didn’t answer, and your silence hurt more than a thousand words could have. Max knelt beside the bed, close enough to reach out, and gently began stroking your face. You didn’t resist his touch, but your indifference pierced him deeply.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice trembling as he fought to hold himself together. “I swear this wasn’t my intention… I wanted to come home earlier, but Lando insisted we stay a bit longer, and then I didn’t have my phone…”

“You forgot, Max,” you interrupted, your tone sharp but laced with pain, anger, and sadness. You still wouldn’t look at him. “Goddammit, Max, you forgot my fucking birthday ever since the moment the clock struck midnight.”

Max fell silent. Once again, reality hit him square in the face, forcing him to acknowledge that anything he said would likely be inadequate. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to find the words to explain himself calmly, to admit his mistakes while grappling with the weight of his guilt.  

“You know it wasn’t my intention,” he began, his voice low. “It’s just… with the shitty season I’ve been having and everything that comes with it, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. I just needed to step out of my comfort zone for a bit, to clear my head…”  

“And you thought doing that on my birthday, after promising me a dream day, was the most appropriate choice?” you cut him off, finally raising your head. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, but I also know that until now, every promise you’ve made to me, you’ve kept. You didn’t just forget about me, Max. You left me here, alone, all day, like I didn’t matter at all.”  

Max searched desperately for a way to salvage the situation, to apologize, to do something, anything, to prove how deeply sorry he was. But when you turned on the light and sat up to face him, he realized he was out of options. He didn’t know how to continue without disappointing you further.  

“You know this has been really hard for me…”  

“Hard for you? Seriously?” you interrupted, leaning closer and pointing your finger at him. “And you think this has been easy for me? Watching you shut me out, never telling me what’s going on in that head of yours? Not to mention your fans… They’re fully convinced that your shitty season is all my fault, that our relationship is ruining your career.”  

“Y/N, I know…”  

That was a lie. He didn’t know. Max had ignored the comments and criticism because, deep down, he believed you weren't to blame for his performance, especially when you rarely even went with him to the races anymore.  

“There’s nothing I can say to argue with you,” Max admitted. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I’m truly sorry. I love you, Y/N, more than you know…”  

“Are you sure you love me?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you love me, or your damn career? Because lately, it feels like your whole world revolves even more around cars, races, speed, adrenaline, and your constant need to be the best at everything.”  

“Hey…” Max tried, his voice faltering.  

“Every day, you show me more and more that we’re no longer a team… that I’m no longer a part of you. And I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”  

Your words hit him like a dagger, but he knew he deserved them.  

“It’s not just about you forgetting my birthday today, Max. It’s everything. You don’t listen to me… you don’t give me anything, not even a minute of your day, let alone affection or support. Why should I stay in a relationship that, instead of giving me life, is killing me inside?”  

Your words struck him like a bucket of ice water.  

“You don’t get it, do you?” you asked, frustration and sadness mingling in your tone as he stayed silent. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be afraid to show me who you are, flaws and all. But you’ve always done this, Max, keeping me at arm’s length, never letting me into your life.”  

“I don’t do that, Y/N, it’s just that…” he began, summoning his courage to explain, but you cut him off once again.  

“Damn it, Max, yes, of course you do!” you yelled, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you realize that even though I’ve been with you, I’ve been completely alone? Alone, Max, utterly alone! I’ve tried so many times to talk to you, to make you see that a few bad races aren’t the end of the world for someone like you, but…”  

You stopped yourself abruptly, your throat aching and your head pounding. You felt no remorse for the way you were speaking to him since he deserved every word, but you couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness. Sadness for the Max Verstappen you had once known. A man who had been so proud of himself and his achievements after years of hard work, now emotionally shattered and, worse, so determined to hide it from everyone, including you.  

“I can’t keep giving you everything I have while you keep taking and taking, without giving anything back.”  

“I’m sorry…” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow.  

“A simple ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t fix anything, Max,” you replied, your voice quieter now but no less wounded. “I wish it were just about today, but like I said, I feel like you’re pushing me further out of your life with every passing day. You’re becoming a stranger to me, Max,” you admitted, trying not to let your voice waver. “You’ve been like this for months, and I don’t know what else to do to stop us from falling apart… though it feels like that’s exactly what you want.”  

“That’s not true,” he answered immediately, desperation in his voice. “Y/N, seriously, I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, tears welling up again. “Because I feel like you’re showing me the exact opposite.” Your voice trembled with the weight of her words. “Sometimes it feels like you love your career, the success you’ve achieved and the crowds chanting your name more than you love me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “You know I want to, but… I don’t know how to fix this anymore…”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for some sign, some silent promise that would make you believe things between you could change. But Max’s words only made you realize that you had to stop thinking fantasies and start facing reality.

“Maybe you can’t fix it,” you confessed, the words breaking you from the inside. “I can’t keep going like this, Max… I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough… like I’m not good enough for you.”

“Seriously, there has to be a solution…” he pleaded, his voice full of regret. “I’ll do better from now on, I promise…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You turned to look at him, the pain evident in your expression. “Things won’t magically get better if you take me to dinner or buy me a million-dollar necklace to make up for today. That won’t fix anything, Max…”

“Y/N… Y/N, please… I need you…”

No matter how many times Max said those words, he knew that any promise he made now would be meaningless, especially considering how much he had already failed you.

Feeling that there were no more words left to say between them, you slowly got out of bed. You gathered the few belongings you had on the nightstand and, with a sense of finality, began to pack a bag, all the while feeling Max’s powerless gaze on you.

“I can’t keep waiting, Max,” you said, her voice steady despite the anguish inside. “Today, no matter how much I tried to turn a blind eye, let it go, and even put myself in your shoes… This… everything… after many tries… God, Max, all of this… That was the moment I knew.”

[buckyalpine]

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 

-

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 

Which was a mess in itself. 

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n” 

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 

“Y/n” 

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss” 

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 

“Please what, sweets” 

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 

“Sir, pleasee” 

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 

[pyriety-a]

y'know. i've come to the realization that working constantly on a project ft dee does great things for raising her muse and my motivation to create things involving her, except i can't do anything about it on here when that energy goes into the pROJECT,

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.