#THAT FUCKING WHITE CONTACT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊���⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[nv-alexander]

About the election:

There was record voter turnout and record numbers of first time voters. This includes early voting.

It can take weeks to count all the ballots including mail-ins and absentees. There is no way the ballots were done being counted enough to call

AP called the race 8 hours after polls closed on the east coast. At the time the race was called, several states had only counted 40-85% of their ESTIMATED votes. AP says right under the election map that their results are based on demographic and statistical analysis of voting patterns in a district, not actual counts.

At the time the race was called, trump had only actually secured about 181 electoral votes. Kamala had secured 224. AP projected trump to win nearly 100 electoral votes he did not actually have at the time the race was called.

Thousands of ballots were thrown out for "signature verification" and over the past year, states have had court cases surrounding where polling places can be (my county shut refused to put in polling places for an entire town). Court cases surrounding legitimacy of absentee votes.

Polling places were shut down for hours at a time because of bomb threats or "technical issues" and the ones in PA opened back up after buses stopped running.

Several states refused federal oversight. Federal oversight of elections is standard practice. There was tampering with ballot boxes.

People have set fire to ballot drop boxes over the past few weeks.

AP called the election while results from many states--swing states specifically--were well within the margin of error, showing a less than 3% lead.

PA voters are currently getting emails saying their ballots were not counted.

Kamala would be the first democratic candidate this century to lose the popular vote. And by 6 million? High voter turnout generally goes in democrats favor. 3rd party votes were not enough to significantly split the vote.

Trump has said in no uncertain terms that he is a dictator and planned to take the election. He said it would be the last election the USA would have.

The Harris campaign rallies were absolutely packed. People were walking out of trumps rallies.

Tens of thousands of white men held phone banks for the harris campaign multiple times. Harris had strong social and political support. Fox News anchors even came to her defense multiple times.

There was confirmed Russian interference in the last 2 presidential elections.

Elon musk was buying votes.

Please, tell me how this whole thing is not suspicious as fuck.

Whitehouse.gov/contact/

Send an email to the president about election security, point out fishy shit, and demand an investigation

[bunnys-kisses]

a pair of aces

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, williams driver!reader, (somewhat) rivals, clothes sharing, banter & teasing, canadian!reader, secret relationship, body worship, semi- public sex, getting caught, multiple sex scenes, fingering, tim hortons

a/n: the reader is canadian because i said so... also because my brain is tired and it was easier to maker tim hortons jokes.... congrats reader, you are now canadian!

williams was stronger thanks to the hard work of you and franco. you actually made the likes of ferrari and mclaren nervous. even though you and franco were rivals in a sense, it was s unremarkable that the media turned their attention elsewhere. you were both charming, kind in a way that made people drawn to you. even other drivers, only for you to dominate on the track.

but at the end of it all, you pushed franco and franco pushed you. so it wasn't a surprise that you two were something much more than teammates.

franco would lounging on your hotel bed while you were messing with the attire you had on. it was like your driving suit, but you knew it wouldn't pass any standards or testing. it was a costume of a driver's suit, also it was ugly as all hell.

it was a costume for an advertisement, you go roped into doing it for tim hortons during the canadian grand prix weekend. lance laughed when you told his and was thankful that he didn't have to do another one. so much for canadian solidarity!

franco was behind you, amused as his eyes raked your behind. you usual suit was baggy enough to be comfortable and safe. but in this mockery of one, he got a good look at your round behind. you looked good even in bold red and stark white with a flurry of maple leaves printed onto the fabric. he was happily munching on tim bits you had received when some poor assistant gave you the outfit.

"management will have your head is you keep eating those." you looked over to him, "and can you at least save me a chocolate one?"

franco pulled one from the box and looked at you. he smiled, "last one in the box... i wonder who should have it." he pretended to ponder for a moment before he ate it in one bite. you gave him a ,look and he winked then responded, "that's for last weekend."

you turned around to face him fully and he smiled at you. you rolled your eyes and went over to him. you reached for and touched his face.

"you are a pain in my side, colapinto." then leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he melted a little at your touch. he tasted sweet from the snack.

"only for you." he then pulled you onto the bed and he wrapped his arms around you. the near empty box of tim bits fell onto the floor and your teammate all over you.

you moaned into the kiss and threw your arms around his shoulders. chest to chest as the two of you made out deeply.

"don't cum in your pants, franco. they need to photograph me soon."

he undid the zipper and smiled against your cheek, "i'll get mine later, but for now, you'll get to finish first." and then dipped his hand into the suit towards your panties. he got his fingers under the waistband and sunk the digits into your achy cunt. you groaned and arched your back a little.

"fuck, franco." you hissed, you maintained eye contact with him as he fingered you. you squirmed a little and franco pressed more weight onto you. he kept you comfortable against the mattress.

"anything for my teammate." he trailed kissed down your neck and you could feel your pulse pick up. and he could feel it under his lips. if only he could leave a pretty bruise.

he continued to finger you. his fingers felt amazing stuffed inside your cunt. you felt heightened pleasure as he continue to kiss your neck. his breath hot across your skin, it made you run extremely warm.

the pleasure ran hot through you as he played with your sex. it felt dirty to be so intimate in an outfit made for promotional material. you knew you'd never be able to look at it the same again.

he was good with his fingers and it made everything feel intense by a ten-fold. he was skilled in that way, the ways that made you squirm. it came up your body, the kind of want that made your toes curl as you kept working you. he said lowly, "you drive me crazy, even in an awful outfit like this. i want you."

"after." you panted, "qualifiers aren't until saturday, so we have a lot of time after this. just gotta do the stupid ad first." you shifted under him.

you wished you could show franco you city a lot more than you'll be able to do. all the nooks and crannies that you spent time in growing up. but you could barely see your childhood friends before you were out of town and headed to austria.

he left small licked across your neck in place of the bites he wanted to leave. it was all hot and curled in your gut. you laid on last heavy kiss before you tensed up around his fingers. you came with a heavy moaned that was muffled by the kiss. he let out a small moan and slowed his pace to a stop. he took his fingers out and looked at you with his heat spread across his cheeks. he then licked your wetness off his fingers. you swallowed and felt the heat in your ears.

he pressed his forehead against yours soon after and you smiled at him. he draped an arm around your waist and the two of you kissed deeply before you had to leave for the photoshoot.

-

franco lingered around the set because he had 'nothing better to do', he didn't know montreal intimately. the only person you knew from the area was you and a few of the staff for he team. and he didn't mind support his teammate. after all it was your weekend to shine, and franco didn't mind, in fact he wanted you to shine. you were loved in canada, their future world champion. so of course he didn't mind standing to the side while you looked proud in front of a tim hortons location in the city. you were smiling as if you weren't complaining on the car ride over.

it's not even a canadian company anymore!

franco gave you a thumbs up and then a hi-five when you were close enough. the shoot was wrapped up, you did a good job. and while it was fun, you knew you wanted out of the outfit asap.

quickly you went to the trailer with franco trailing close behind. when the door closed to the place. it turned a few heads, and probably sparked for rumors. but, you wanted out of the shit spandex and into franco's lap.

when you were fully inside with the door closed, he wrapped his arms around you for a moment. he pulled you further against him and kissed you deeply. he then got a hold of the zipper to the outfit and pulled it down. he got it off of your shoulders and you melted, your moans got a tad louder.

"you looked good in this. never could race in it, but you can could make red and white work for you." he kissed the side of your neck which made you shudder..

"we have to be quiet." you groaned as you grabbed your breasts as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your backside. which made your heart leap.

"fuck." he groaned against your skin as you managed to kick your sneakers off. and soon you both ended up on the couch with the jumpsuit on the floor.

you grasped him by the front of the williams branded shirt. you got it off of him and he got the tank top off of you that you wore under the costume. eventually you were stripped nude and you did the same for franco. both of you were naked on the couch and the kisses got hotter. you could feel the simmering heat. sometime franco drove you crazy, both on and off the track.

you could race toe-to-toe then end up in bed together. the heated kissed between you two left your core feeling warm. your body heated up and was needy for pleasure. especially after a hard day.

you had enough time to fuck your rival, teammate and lover. franco colapinto was many things to you.

you got onto his lap and spread your hands across his chest. with a little help, you got his cock out his jeans and then sank yourself onto his length. he hissed between grit teeth and then grasped your hips.

"you look even better nothing on and that costume on the floor. i love seeing every inch of you." his voice was smooth. we was so charming that it made you squirm more often than you'd like to admit. you got the most of his charm due to the forced proximity and the nature of your relationship.

you felt the heavy leap in your stomach as he moved against you. he held onto your hips and you really worked against him. he kept in time with you.

he swallowed back the intense emotion through his body. he didn't want to be too loud. he didn't want to draw attention to the trailer. you two continued to move against one another. you grasped softly against him and felt the waves.

"fuck, franco. who made you so fucking hot? it's not fair. you make everyone else look so ugly in comparison." you said in a low tone that made him shudder with want.

"every way i can have you. i'll take you." he dragged blunt nails down your back which made you tense up. you shifted a little and franco also held onto him tighter.

"don't flatter me, franco." you giggled, "i'm a pain in your side. but you love me." you kissed his lips once more as you two moved against one another. the shudder of want between you two as the couch shifted a little under your movements.

he licked his lips and laughed a little. he held onto you tighter as you rocked against him. your thrusts were heavy and he adored it. he did think a lot about you.

most of the time he was thinking about non-sexual situations. if you were doing, did you eat and if you were taking breaks. he continued to move against you, he groaned through his clenched teeth. he tensed up at the sensation of your cunt around his thick cock. and he felt like a dream.

"i'd let you run me off the track anyway. but not without a fight." he trailed his tongue across your sweet, warm skin. you knew that he'd let you. he would allow you to win, he was soft with you that way. but he wouldn't let you gain victory without a fight! you were still rivals.

he'd give you the world without a second thought. except the wdc. you kissed him deeply on the lips, you combed your fingers through his hair and moaned against his lips. he wrapped his arms around your waist as he moved faster against you.

he got the perfect pace to fuck you with. and it made you hold onto him tightly onto him. he was your everything, you two fit so well together. you knew if the press knew about your secret relationship, you two would be a total power couple. both on and off the track.

you held his face and kissed him on those soft lips, it made you excited. you moaned against him, you both struggled to keep your voices down. your pulse quickened and small praises came from your lips as the pace quickened.

franco felt a heat in his body come to surface. the same heat raced through your system as well. you kissed the top of his head before you really worked yourself onto his length.

"i love you." you gasped, "lucky me. to have you all to myself. you make me my best." you said softly, you went in for another heated kiss, your hip bounced against him. as the raging feeling of climax went through your body.

the clench of your cunt around his length only made him match your pace further. he worked hard to fuck with in the shitty trailer, on the couch. your clothes everywhere.

"i need you." you panted as the climax drew through you. you tensed around him. the pleasure hit you perfectly, you arched your back and then were chest to chest with franco.

you made out once more as he moved, roughly fucked you as he tried to achieve his own climax. he groaned through a tense jaw as he quickly came. he continued to fuck you through orgasms and it wasn't until he finished in you that he slowed down to a stop.

there was little time for an after glow, you two had to be out of the trailer soon. you both went to grab your clothes. you had a change of clothes in your bag for after the photo shoot. you grabbed the first shirt you could find. you knew it was branded with the williams logo.

what you didn't realize was that you had franco's shirt on, and franco had you shirt on. you were wearing franco's last name and he was wearing yours.

you learned something important that day as you headed back to the car. secret relationships couldn't stay a secret forever, especially when you were both public figures.

it didn't help your case that you were kissing somewhere so public. there were multiple photos of you two kissing outside the trailer before you headed to the car.

you learned that secrets came out eventually. and now you were on the front page of the news for reasons other than your victory <3

[stllmnstr]

breathing room

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung is having a hard time breathing. 

Partly because he’s pretty sure he just got the wind knocked out of him. A little bit because of the year-old rib injury he had neither the time nor patience to let heal completely. 

And mostly because there’s a blade being held to his throat. 

Yours, to be exact. 

It’s a nice one, all things considered. Despite its lethality, it’s small, delicate almost. From this angle, he can just make out the detailing on the hilt. A series of vines wrap around each other intricately, forming kaleidoscopic patterns that extend all the way from the blade to where your fingers are wrapped around the hilt, knuckles white from the way your hand is straining. 

Jesus, he thinks. If it takes that much concentrated effort for you to not let the knife press any harder against his skin, draw any blood, then maybe he should start taking the threats you throw his way like extra change a little more seriously. 

Lazily, he lets his eyes trace a line from your fingers to your face. Skipping over the rather boring details of the plain black training shirt you wear, he directs his attention to the way your brow furrows in concentration instead. 

Under usual circumstances, a knife to the throat would encourage all of his senses to narrow in on the sensation of metal against his pulse point. Would spur his brain to work a bit faster through all the biological fight or flight mechanisms in a last ditch attempt at survival. 

But these are not usual circumstances. In fact, ever since the two of you were split into separate training cohorts a handful of months ago, this has become a rarity. And the only thing Heeseung wants to do is enjoy it a little more. 

Without his self-preservation instincts kicking in, his brain has plenty of room for other things. The forgiving surface of a training mat beneath him, slightly soft where he lets his body relax into it. The unusually warm air of the training room, courtesy of a busted air conditioner that no one has gotten around to fixing just yet. 

The way your hair falls around your face as you lean over him, chest still heaving from your recent bout of exertion. Your eyes are pure fire, embers and ashes and every stage in between as you sit atop his ribcage, knees on either side of his torso where you pin him to the mat. 

But even as the lead trainer adds another tally underneath your name for another sparring match won, your gaze doesn’t soften. Doesn’t brighten in the afterglow of victory. After all, victory only tastes sweet when it’s earned. Judging by the way your lips twist above him, Heeseung thinks the victory he just handed you on a silver platter must be horribly bitter. 

Slowly, he raises his hands in mock surrender. There’s a half smile that looks a little too much like a smirk tugging at his lips when he says, “I concede.”

“No fucking shit.” You flick a strand of hair out of your face. Your knife presses a little tighter against his throat. “Did you even try?”

Heeseung maintains eye contact. “I think I’m doing us a both a favor by not answering that one.”

Narrowing your eyes, annoyance makes itself the most prominent of your visible emotions. “Interesting choice of words from someone with a knife to his throat.”

Heeseung all but rolls his eyes. “What are you gonna do? Kill me in front of everyone?” The way he wraps sarcasm up in every syllable is almost as infuriating as the way he just let you win without putting up any semblance of a fight. “You’ve got a mean streak, princess, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

The pressure on your blade increases, and Heeseung fights a wince as he feels it break the barrier between his skin and blood. It’s a miniscule cut, surface level at most, but he hears the threat all the same. “It’s like you want to die,” you marvel. 

Heeseung’s eyes betray nothing, other than the fact that they can’t quite seem to stray from your own. Does he? No matter how deep inside himself he searches, the answer is always a resounding no. Despite the effort he put into this particular spar, or rather lack thereof, his survival instincts are still kicking. His pursuit of life is still alive and well. 

So no, he doesn’t want to die. Quite the opposite in fact. But if he were to explain in plain terms that he never feels quite as alive as he does in the moments when you’ve got a knife on his throat and hatred in your eyes, he has the distinct feeling you might well and truly make good on your frequent promise to send him to an early grave. 

And it’s not like he means to do it, not really. Heeseung might be a glutton for punishment these days, but there was a time when he tried to get your attention in all the regular ways. As he quickly found out, sweet words did nothing but make you roll your eyes and his skills on a sparring mat were only as impressive as they could be used to hone your own. 

He was a tool, in your eyes. A means to an end as you did your best to work your way up the ranks. 

You never looked at him, the person behind all the hand-to-hand combat training and advanced levels of weapon artistry. At least not until he started annoying the ever-living shit out of you. 

Back then, it had been easy. As new recruits, you were in the same training cohort, which meant you had the same daily schedules. As long as Heeseung had the chance to beat you to the last piece of toast in the dining hall at breakfast or tie the laces of your training boots together the night before an early morning, he was guaranteed at least one of your signature glares and a few choice words that would make his grandmother blush. 

Granted, he knows that one-sided hatred is not a very stable foundation to build anything solid on, but he thinks of it in the same way he thinks of sparring. 

He doesn’t need a knockout. He just needs an in. 

A little bit of breathing room. Something that will have his partner lowering their guard, weakening their defenses just enough for him to strike. Once. Twice. Again. Over and over until the match is won and victory rests on his square shoulders. 

Heeseung’s in this for the long haul, and he’s come to find that he doesn’t really care how many bruises he picks up along the way. 

Across the room, the lead trainer heaves a long sigh. 

“Alright, ___, that’s enough. You’ve earned your tally.” The most of anyone in today’s group. But you’re still glaring at him, and he knows it isn’t enough, not for you. “Heeseung, get it together. I expect better from you next time.”

You scoff. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

Expectations are only met when people are held to them, and you doubt Lee Heeseung has even become acquainted with the concept of a consequence. 

Releasing one final, sharp exhale, you pull your knife away from his throat, tucking it back into the sheath on your upper thigh in one fluid motion. Swinging your leg over his torso, you remove your body from his own, give your anger some space to breathe. Without looking back, you let your strides eat up the distance between you and the exit. 

Someone – you think it must be Jay, or maybe Jungwon, tries to catch your attention on the way out, asking about a maneuver you pulled in the middle of the match. A tricky bit of knife work you’ve been perfecting over the last few weeks. Something that looked stupid as Heeseung did nothing but stand there, as if your blade was nothing but decorative. Made you look stupid as he stood and watched with nothing but a mildly amused expression on his face. 

You hate him for it. Want to show him just how pretty your knife can be stained with the deep crimson he must bleed as surely as anyone else. 

Lips pulled in a taut line, you unsheath the blade at your thigh once again, this time sending it spinning with deadly accuracy towards the line of trees that skirt the outside of the training facility. 

You don’t miss. You never do. 

It still feels like defeat. 

…..

Heeseung notices when you’re not at dinner later that evening. Despite the fact that you no longer train together, the inter-cohort spars have shifted this week's schedule. You should be here, sitting next to Jay and Jungwon, probably, pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

But you’re not. And he can only think of one other place to find you. 

The training hall is dark when he arrives, but Heeseung is no fool. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he sees you soon enough. Silhouette dark against the empty expanse, he has half a mind to intervene before you shred yet another punching bag to irreparable pieces. Instead, he just watches for a moment longer. 

He doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that start to simmer, that always linger. Doesn’t know if it’s admiration or longing or something far worse. 

But he wants to. Wants to examine them until he knows them as intimately as the back of his own hand, until he can recite them by name and express them in ways that don’t make you want to press a knife against his neck. 

And he wants to keep watching, keep looking, keep noticing. 

Even from a distance, even in the dark, he can read the frustration in the set of your shoulders, sense the exhaustion in the way your legs move just behind the rest of your body. 

You need a break. 

He needs an in. 

Across the room from you, Heeseung clears his throat. 

Startled, you nearly fall on your ass mid-kick before you turn to the source. It’s dark, but you know it’s him. Who else would it be? 

Chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion, you finally catch your breath well enough to tell him, “If you’re not here for a rematch, then you have exactly ten seconds to get out of this building.”

A beat passes. 

Another. 

Heeseung exhales. “And if I am?”

Bathed in the dying glow of moonlight, you go still. “Then you better put in your best fucking effort.”

Heeseung is across the room before you can release another breath. It’s ridiculous how quickly he disarms you. And you’re caught off guard, yes, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Your knife in his hands, he throws it to the corner of the room. And then it’s just the two of you. 

Heeseung spares neither time nor effort knocking your legs out from under you, sending you careening towards the mat. Screwing your eyes shut, you brace for the impact of a training mat that never comes, the back of your head cradled in a hand that serves as a barrier between you and the ground below. 

It’s a complete reversal of your earlier roles as he lets his legs fall to either side of you, face inches from your own. There’s no knife on your neck, and he was gracious enough to break your fall, but suddenly find your breath a difficult thing to catch regardless. 

Above you, his eyes are dark. Your noses nearly touch. “This is what you wanted?” he breathes, and you feel his words as much as you hear them. They dance across your cheekbone, your lips. Have your bones feeling molten, all your hard edges malleable. “You want me to fight you like I mean it? To really fucking spar with you?”

You’ve rehearsed your answer too long to deviate, even as your mind screams with sudden uncertainties. “Yes.”

Heeseung doesn’t spare it a second thought. “Too bad.”

“Why? You have no problem f–”

“I was there, you know.” Unbidden, the hand that doesn’t hold your head falls to the bottom edge of your black training shirt. Heeseung pauses there for a moment, lets his fingers trace the seam. Something in the air shifts, tightens, waits. Despite the way he has you caged, your hands are unbound. You could stop this, if you wanted to. Stop him. 

You don’t. 

Slowly, his hand begins to track an upward journey, taking your hem with it. The air of the room is warm, choked with summer heat and the odd sensations that simmer just beneath your skin, but you suppress a shiver anyway  as a sliver of skin is revealed. 

You know what he’s after, where his eyes fall to. It’s his fingers that hesitate. Dangle with uncertainty a hair's breadth from the scar that sits just above your hip bone. 

Heeseung inhales, eyes returning to your own for a moment. They’re searching for permission you won’t give and boundaries you won’t set. If he wants to walk this tightrope, he’ll have to navigate on his own. 

It’s a challenge he rises to. On his breath out, Heeseung lets his fingers find a home on the bare skin of your stomach, trace the jagged line that’s a shade paler than the surrounding area. 

It’s a scar you hardly think of, one you can’t believe he remembers. Gifted to you in your early days of training, when a fellow recruit thought the best way to better his ranking was to discard the strict sparring rules set by your superiors and draw blood as a last ditch attempt at victory.

You’d still won, even with a fresh stab wound on your lower abdomen. And he’d been shown the door, like all recruits that break protocol. 

“So what?” Your voice doesn’t come out nearly as biting as you intend it to. You curse the waver in your words. “I get one scar and suddenly I’m delicate?” 

Heeseung glances up, something sincere in his eyes when he matches your gaze. His hand is still on your skin. “We’re all delicate. And we all have the scars to prove it. I’ve just developed a particular… aversion to seeing evidence of it when it comes to you.”

You’re quick to school your features into neutrality. At least on the outside, you won’t give him the satisfaction of catching you off guard. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Apparently not,” Heeseung counters. “Since I’m not the one begging for a fight.” He holds your gaze when he adds, “And I have to say, princess, if you wanted me to put you on your back, there are much easier ways to ask.”

It’s as if you’ve been burned submerged in hot water, as if you’ve been burned, when you push him off of you with a speed that’s almost comical. And from the way heat rises in your cheeks, you just might have been. 

Your voice is dangerously low when you tell him, “You have three seconds.”

“Until what?” Heeseung knows better than to be hopeful. 

“Until I find my knife and put it to good use.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to be told twice.

[goopgirlie813]

I wanna add another thing now that ive been thinking about it; y'all ever notice how right-wingers like to play the victim? "Reverse racism" "blm wants to oppress white people" "women actually have privilege now, men are the oppressed ones" "gays are trying to force us to all gay marry" etc etc etc.

Yeah, uh, they have a very obvious persecution complex. Its kinda their thing, a defining feature. It has been the backbone of fascist regimes (nazis said "the jews are ruining our society!! Theyre out to hurt your children and fuck up your life!!"). Bullying them only feeds this tendency. It gives them more material to work with.

But if you refuse to be mean while also refusing to budge from your position? They cant weaponize that as easily. They cant dismiss you as easily because you didnt give them the out of victimhood. You robbed them of an opportunity for martyrdom, their strongest propaganda tool.

Facists thrive on meanness, hatred, and anger. Not only does it shape their views of other people, but they thrive in environments where they are hated. It makes them stronger because they know how to flip the script.

But you know what facism isn't equipped to handle? Stubborn kindness. They cant weaponize it. They cant make themselves the victim to gain sympathy. They cant twist it their way and make themselves look powerful. Because bullying in the face of kindness makes a person look bad. It damages reputations.

Being kind without comprimising on your views puts fascists between a rock and a hard place. Because if they keep fighting you they erode their own cause. Because so much right-wing indoctrination relies on them being the victims fighting for a rightous cause. That falls apart if they attack people who are being kind. They need to make the person a villain first or else they expose their own lies. If they cant effectively convince people you're a villain, they lose a lot of their power.

This is not about holding their hand and making them feel happy. This is not about blaming marginalized groups for their own oppression. This is about ackgnowledging the enemy's weak points and using them to our advantage. We are not pointing fingers or casting blame, we are trying to strategically break the facades of facism.

Thats what people in these comments are failing to understand: kindness is not a reward only given to good people who do good things. Kindess is genuinely the most devastating weapon against fascist propaganda. Meanness on the other hand? That just waters their crops. Being mean to fascists helps them. It reinforces their beliefs, and opens opportunities for them to lure people in by exploiting their empathy for victims.

I am not asking you to be soft and quiet and compromising. I am not asking you to tell fascists "its ok I forgive you." No. I am asking you to observe the reality of the situation and react accordingly. Strategically. I am not saying that you are to blame for the spread of fascist rhetoric, I am telling you how fascists are exploiting your behavior for personal gain so that you can course correct and cut off their propaganda supply lines.

Let me reiterate:

I am not blaming you for your oppression. I am telling you that fascists are taking advantage of you and how to stop it.

Remember that story that went around about the Karen yelling at the cashier and OP putting money in the tip jar every time she yelled, while making eye contact to make it clear what they were doing? Yeah that kind of thing.

You dont have to be kind to the bigots, you just have to refuse to be mean to them. Every time they say something mean, say something kind about their target. Every time they harass someone, do something kind for their target. And do it immediately, publicly, in their face and everyone else's.

Another element is to behave in good faith. Aggressivley assume good intentions. Explain why harmful behaviors are harmful while emphasizing the assumption that they have good intentions. If they, like most people, do just want the best but have misguded views of how to achieve that then this approach can and will make them change their behavior and mindset. If they genuinely do want to cause harm then sticking to the bit even when its absurd becomes a kind of mockery. The only mockery that they cannot weaponize. Their meanness contrasts so starkly with the aggressive positivity that they turn themselves into satirical charicatures if they double down.

Kindness is fascism's most devastating enemy.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[strongbabe2907]

God i’m still buzzing.. Read on for more of a dir en grey live report!

So we got there early to get tickets for buying merch and our numbers were pretty good. After that we killed some time i and kept getting so nervous on and off?!

When it was time to buy merch i was nervous again but it all went very smoothly. We did some trading and everyone was so nice and sweet and i got most of what i wanted 😭.

After that more time to kill so we went to eat and MORE NERVES. And then it was time to queue. We all had different numbers to we split and i had 601. I was very proud of myself for hearing when i could go right haha. Once in the venue i was about half way, but was already warned there would be a push and YEAH. It was intense. It was really an experience to get soooo squished yet there’s a vibe of everyone looking out for each other.

So onto the good stuff.. when they came out i was just mesmerized by Kaoru!! He had extensions in and had all his hair curled and the extensions reached till his shoulders. He wore a fancy long jacket (kinda pirate/vampire feel) with black shorts with a gold trim and black leggings. Black and white polka dot blouse he’s worn before ontop with the corset waistcoat over it. He had a black stripe over his eyes for make up and later for the encore he had blood on his face. He also had a little oil lamp on his stand thing?! 😭 so cute?! He went wahwah in the beginning. He went over to play with Die at somepoint and Die also came ro his side, but nothing too exciting haha. He seemed to have a good time but again, first show.. and he seemed to hold back a little maybe? I think they all were in a sense. He also had a blue? Cup he drank out of and whenever he did he wiped his mouth with a little towel after lmao. I think he had a mouth and a sweat towel. How sophisticated.

(Oil lamp if u squint)

I saw most of Kyo and Kaoru, Die was far away and there was a guy right in front of me that blocked my straight ahead view of Toshiya most of the time lol.

Also shout out to the guy next to me who shouted their names SO LOUD i could feel his body vibrate lmfao.

Kyo has hair. Kyo has a face tattoo.. assuming it’s not eyeliner. I wasnt close enough to see what it actually was. He was wearing no make up, a black tshirt and very wide/lose high waisted trousers with a belt that had a metal ring on it. Sneakers bit i couldn’t see his feet most of the time. His voice was good, but definitely got better as the show went on and he warmed up. He really got more lose near the end of the show with smiling and letting the crowd sing and talking etc.. it was nice to see. He did a little dance but he wasn’t super energetic. Again, maybe just cos it was the first show? They all did seem to have a good time though. He wore the love bracelet and small golden hoop in his left ear and i could see the sparkle from his teeth gems haha. It was nice to see him all fresh faced and without contacts 🥹

Kaoru had a really cute little moment where he was looking at the crowd before starting Vinushka, where he tilted his head. And he was very in sync with Kyo who came up from sipping water i think to start the song together.

Also HELLLOOO shokubeni was AMAZING. kyo did a part of it acapella. On my fucking knees.

What i saw of Toshiya was him suddenly popping up without his shirt on lol, apparently he threw it into the crowd.

Im still buzzing. I hope the vibe can only go up from here, it has too!!! Onto the 13th we go🤘

[7s3ven]

WHAT HAPPENS IN VAGAS STAYS IN VAGAS. simon riley

( just an idea)

I recently watched a movie set in Vegas that had the title (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas) as its motto and I thought it’d be a really funny plot. I’ll use Ghost as a placeholder for now.

But yeah, imagine reader and Ghost (total strangers) get married in Vegas and they’re like “wtf” and they don’t officially divorce so, hey, Ghost actually has a wife on paper. And then Laswell introduces TF 141 to a transferred worker and what do you know, it’s Ghost’s Vegas wife.

Ghost wasn’t known for drinking past his limits. In fact, he barely had any. He wasn’t a light weight in the slightest. He could drink at least twenty large pints of beer and still be fully sober. But, it seems Vegas had fucked him over. He blamed Jonny for convincing the team to take a holiday to America.

He could still taste the fruity cocktails on his tongue as he sat up, rubbing his face. His mask was discarded to the side, lying on the floor. The room was surprisingly tidy as he leaned over the body beside him to retrieve his mask- wait, that wasn’t right.

Ghost let out a grunt of surprise, staring at the person beside him. His gaze immediately landed on the wedding ring that glinted in the dim light. His heart lurched. Had he slept with a married person? His brows creased as he tried to remember what had happened. Who even was this strange woman? He had never seen her before.

Ghost racked his brain for clues until he realized that the woman beside him was the one he had been eyeing all night in a drunken state. He thought she was pretty and he hadn’t seen the ring before.

He looked down at his own hand, eyes widening even more at the sight of a matching wedding band. It didn’t take a genius to piece everything together.

Ghost hadn’t slept with an already taken person, he had fucking married a stranger instead. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that seemed a little better than ruining a marriage because he drank too much.

You stirred and Ghost froze as you opened your eyes, blinking in confusion. “Where am I?” You were just as confused as he was. “Hey, did we sleep together? You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” Your words slurred together. You glanced at the ring on his finger, lurching back. “Oh my gosh! Are you married?! Did I fuck a married person?! I’m so sorry!”

“Look at your own finger.” Ghost grumbled. “Wasn’t married before I met you.”

At least you were a smart one. “Oh… we married each other… um, what’s your name?”

“Simon Riley.”

“Y/N L/N.”

The two of you shook hands, still tangled in the white bedsheets.

“So… what happens now?” You mutter.

“I gotta get to work. Give me your number so I can call ya and we can… figure whatever the hell this is out.”

You hand him a piece of paper with your digits written on it. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed and walk out of the hotel, already texting your friends on what you had woken up to.

Hours passed and then days and finally months. And there was no call from the handsome man you had accidentally married. And there was no chance of even divorcing if you couldn’t get in contact with him.

So you endured it. And whenever your friends asked about the ring, you told them the story of how you had managed to get drunk and marry a total stranger. They found it hilarious.

Kate Laswell was the woman who entirely changed your life, in more ways than another. When you were a teenager, she helped you out of a slump. You owed her a great deal for saving you at your worst. So when she asked you to transfer from your secretary line of work in the military to a special operations unit as their new intelligence operative, you agreed.

She had given a meaning to your life, a well-paying job that could support you, and unintentionally reunited you with the man who was bound to you on paper.

“This is Y/N. Treat her nice.” Laswell says to the four large men towering over you. But you only have eyes for the one with the Skull mask. You could recognzie those vivid eyes anywhere.

He wasn’t wearing gloves, giving you a perfect view of the wedding ring still sitting on his finger. You couldn’t blame him, you still wore yours too for some reason.

“Ey, LT, yer gon’ a burn a hole in the poor lassie if ya keep starin’ like that.” John Mactavish, aka known as Soap or Jonny, said, laughing. “You like ‘er or somethin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s my wife after all.” Ghost grunts. You want to pinch the bridge of your nose. How could he say such a thing without context?

Gaz is the one who makes a fuss over Ghost’s statement. “Wait, you’re married?! And you didn’t invite us?!”

“It was in a dingy church.” You say to fill in the gaps.

“Where?” Gaz presses on.

You and Ghost exchange a look, embarrassed about your reckless actions. “Vegas.” You both say in unison.

You can practically see the cogs working in Soap’s head as he gasps. “Is that where yer disappeared off to? Ya got married to a pretty lass without tellin’ us? How long have y’all known each other?!”

You clear your throat as you hear the quiet sound of Laswell chuckling. Glad to see she finds your predicament amusing. “We don’t.”

“So you married a stranger?” Soap’s eyebrows furrow. “Ey, how come you got married before me?!”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Ghost reminds his team members.

It’d be really funny if, even after that, you and Ghost still don’t divorce. And y’all actually start treating each other like lovers.

Like, yeah, we were strangers and got married in a church in Vegas but we won’t divorce because the married life is actually better than expected. What about it?

Ghost literally brushes off the fact that you guys were strangers. He treats you like his wife, bringing you food and wiping your makeup off when you’re too tired to do so. And eventually, you guys just accept it.

[iannmin]

HEAD OVER HEELS | p.sh 박성화

pairings + warnings: heels!obssessed!hwa x fem!reader, creampie, breeding kink (literally breeding everywhere >_<), just pure smut so mdni! 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (?)

synopsis: “get hot on ya heels”

a/n: just got some inspiration looking at some of the reblogs from my previous works on hwa and one of them said that hwa may have a kink of loving to their s/o in heels, so credits to whoever who said that i love you

you owned a lot of heels, but “a lot” would definitely be an understatement. the heels came in tens, even dozens - from the classic YSL’s to the fancy Dolce & Gabbana’s, but regardless the type, it all boiled down to a single reason: park seonghwa.

hwa would always buy you heels everytime he goes out for shopping with his bandmates. his poor and innocent friends thought that it was “nothing more than an act of love” but oh,, you knew for sure that it wasn’t. it was simple, really, he loved how you looked in them when you two were having a lil baby making session <3. so when he hastily kicked off his shoes and fumbled his way over to the bedroom at one in the morning where you were just about to tuck yourself to bed,, you weren’t surprise at all.

“jagiya, look hehe” he shook the huge shopping bag, smug look smeared all over his face. “let’s do it now” don’t get mistaken,, hwa had his priorities set straight so he didn’t care one bit when he carelessly tore the luxurious Louis Vuitton wrapping in half like a spoilt child. you barely uttered a reply but he was already holding both of your ankles, slipping on the wine red heels on your feet. it took a few moments for hwa to soak in the sight - you in his plain white tee with your lace panties coupled with the pair of high heels….god,, and when it finally came to him, hwa could only mumble “f-fuck…s’pretty….gonna ruin you princess” before instantly reaching for the buckles on his belt.

jeans and belt pooling around his knees with his veiny cock slapping against his abdomen, he set you up in a mating press, hooking both of your legs over his shoulder. gently kissing each side of your ankles, he aligned his girthy tip against your hole.

“hah…fuck…wanna breed you so bad…you’ll be such a pretty mommy f’me” *schlop!* in an instant, his hips slammed tightly against yours and his girthy base came into contact with your folds. that’s it. seven-inch all in at once. this was the feeling you’d never seemed to get used to no matter how many times the both of you did it, so it got you instantly gripping on hwa’s shoulder blades. “nnnggh….hwa…feels s’full…s’good...” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, so he reached in for a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting from both of your coated lips.

but,, of course you were wrong to think that it was the end because hwa was pussy-drunk. extremely drunk with the thought of you. all he desired was to pound that tight pussy loose and watch it seep with his cum. so he did exactly that. with sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, he buried his head into your neck, deep groans casting vibrations against your skin. with every hard thrust, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, whimpers turning a pitch higher. "h-hwa...gonna cum..."

"hold on for me princess, i wanna try something.." hwa instantly flipped you on your stomach - ass up, face down in a doggy-style position, and when he entered your sensitive hole again to continue his pounding ordeal, you swear you felt his cock reach in about an inch deeper. oh boy,, you were going to lose your mind very soon.

it took the both of you no more than half a minute to reach your highs and when it did, it felt straight out of a porn scene. with hwa's groans turned into nothing but an endless chant of curses and high-pitched whimpers, and your moans turned into broken sobs, he pressed his hip as deep as it could have gone against yours, releasing loads and loads of hot white cum, filling you up full. and when hwa finally pulled out, his cum was everywhere - seeping out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and heels, coating your wine-red heels in a layer of translucent fluid. he hate to admit it but the sight of you nearly got him hard again.

"fuck...princess, i love you so much, could do this everyday"

[bookaddict7342]

Third person with one eye here!

For context, my left eye has been blind since birth and I'm 30 (retinopathy of prematurity), is 50% smaller than a normal eye and has a blue-white cataract over it. My left eyelid blinks whenever my right eye blinks but generally stays only cracked open so you can't even see the eye, but you can tell something is up lol.

If I'm walking with someone I always keep them on my sighted side so I don't have to crane my neck to look at them and I don't keep accidentally bumping into them. I have full on walked into a huge pillar in an airport before, and many other things lmao. Since high school only one or two rude and clearly strange people have asked me about it (one on a subway car who then made mystical guestures and chanted at me, unsolicited). Society is much politer than one would think. However I teach first grade and kids WILL ask all the time lol, which is good, they're learning about their world. Prosthetic fake glass eyes suuuuuuck and were so painful to put in, I had to wear one daily like a contact till I was 10 so my skull would grow the eye socket correctly despite nothing to grow around and I hated that thing. I stopped wearing it ASAP despite one terrible vision doctor telling me people would judge me forever and I would really regret it...fuck that guy lol never went back.

My vision is just bad enough that I can't drive and have to live in a walkable city where I can get lyfts or take public transport.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[luvsickbugs]

TRENCH COAT

Character: Remy 'Gambit' Lebeau x male reader

Plot: What happens in vegas stays in vegas.

Warnings: Smut, Top Remy, Bottom male reader, Mentions of riding, Mentions of rogue, hair pulling, vibrating hands (idk honestly, i think i saw it in a tweet once.) Dick size gets mentioned and there is alot of teasing, kinda actually has a plot. (I think that's it, I wrote his accent like mine is and how people around me sound, i tried to even add extra twang hopefully its good!!)

The bathroom door pushes open and Remy's snores come to a halt as the light shined across his face, He groans and rub his face. He leans up on his elbows and squints his eyes, His face quickly heats up when his eyes focus on the man in the doorway.

His eyes dart up and down at the clothes you were wearing-- You were only wearing two pieces of clothes but the sight of them was making everything on him go warm.

You were wearing those tight white boxers that Rogue had got you as a gag gift for valentines and a trenchcoat- his trenchcoat. It looked perfect on you, It fit you wonderfully, Not too big or too small.

His mouth dried up as his lips stretched into a grin, His eyes faltered for a second on the marks on your collarbones, "Somethin' 'bout you wearing my coat gives me a mighty big feelin' of possessiveness, cher." His eyes finally go back up to your face.

You shook your head and rubbed your eyes, You had just grabbed the first thing you saw to cover yourself to go piss.

When you got closer to the bed, Remy hooked his fingers into the pockets on the side of the coat and tugged you forward till your knees hit the mattress. "Lemme cuddle for a bit." He wanted you against him, He already felt cold even though he had two thick blankets covering him. He wanted your legs between his and your hands in his hair, He wanted you all over him.

When the blankets were lifted, You crawled under the covers. Your legs naturally found Remy's legs and you threw one of your legs around his waist, He was warm. You felt his hand slip under the trenchcoat and laid flatly against your side, His fingers lightly tracing up and down. It felt nice, He felt nice against you.

Remy buried his face into your hair, He kissed your head before leaning back and cupping your jaw to stare at you, "Good mornin'," He grinned, "I feel like I got hit by that motorcycle of yers, Did ya really ride me that hard last night?" He leans down and kisses your forehead.

You laughed and pushed his face away, "Don't be so vulgar."

He leaned into your hand and kissed your palm, "Ain't vulgar if it's true," He kept eye contact with you, He knew eye contact made you squirm. "Besides, Gambit's only askin' a question."

He smirked when he watched you turn your head away from him, His hand that was under the trench coat dragged his fingers down till they grazed the waistband of your boxers. His smirk grew when he felt your hips move up against his fingers. "You usually wear more clothes than just gambits coats an' those tightey whiteys you call boxers."

"They aren't that tight." You mumbled, You felt the flush crawl up your neck and your heart was beating fast and the teasing fingertips dipping in and out of your waistband didn't help.

"They are tight," He hooked the waistband with his index finger, "Don't see why you feel the need to wear 'em so small. You tryin' to show off?"

Remy slipped his index out of the waistband and instead traced your obvious bulge, He felt you twitch under his fingertips, "They're almost indecent." He swallowed, He just wanted to take them off you and make you feel so good. You looked so pretty laying beside him, He could feel your fingers tracing his collarbones and it just made a shiver go down his spine and his own cock pushed against his boxers. "Might as well not even be there."

You wrapped your hand around his wrist-- God, He wants that hand to be wrapped around something else. Fucking your hand would be enough as long as you look up at him with those pretty eyes and talk to him and he'd be set. He just needed you. It has never mattered what way, He'd have you any way you'd let him.

A groan left you and your hand tightened around his wrist, You wanted to jut your hips against his hand for any friction, But you knew as soon you did that he'd pull his hand away. He was a bastard. "It's just the brand Rogue got."

Remy scoffs, He stares down at you and you squeeze his wrist tighter, He laughs softly, "They basically are see-through," He takes his free hand and drags it down your chest, "Can see more comin' out of these than out of those damn shorts on yer suit. Don't take that as complainin' 'cause I ain't."

"You aren't supposed to look at me doing missions."

"And you're not supposed to be fightin' in something so damn small," He murmured, "Can see yer everything, There ain't much left to the imagination."

He moved his free hand down your chest and cupped you, "You expectin' me to ignore a view like that when I know I'm the only one who's allowed to see it?"

Your breath hitched and your grip loosened on his wrist, "and rogue."

He squeezed you, Just to hear the small gasps, "Don't know how the hell she resists you sometimes." He grumbled, He watched as a small wet spot formed on the front of your boxers. He rubbed your tip through the fabric and your hips jutted up against him. He smirked and stopped moving his thumb.

Your hips jutted upwards again, You groaned when he pulled his hand fully away, "She has this nice thing called restraint and control."

Remy chuckles, He moved so he was positioned in between your legs and leaned over you to kiss you on your collarbone and up your neck. "I don't have an ounce of restraint or control, 'specially when it comes to you two, cher."

You leaned your head back and hummed, Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips against your skin, "You need to work on that."

He smiled against your skin, His hands grabbed at your sides, "It'd be a boring life if Gambit was on his best behaviour all the time."

A laugh escaped you when his stubble brushed against your jaw, "You drool when we stand close together and if we're in our suits, You melt."

The sound of your laugh made him grin, He closed his eyes and he just wanted to soak all of you in, He was smitten. "I'm only human, darlin', ain't got the same self-discipline as you." He kissed your jaw, He wanted to make you laugh again. "I oughta just start wearin' a bib."

"Besides," He murmured against your skin, His hand drifting back downwards, "I'm still holdin' up pretty well, All things considered."

Remy kissed every spot on your neck that he had missed last night, He grazed his teeth against your collarbone. He watched as you leaned your head back to give him more room.

"Are you?" Your voice was quiet and your eyes were closed, You were just focusing on him.

"You've currently got my hand in ya underwear," He squeezed against you and a gasp left you, The feeling shooting up your spine and your cock pushed more against his fingers. "My hard on pressin' against ya ass as we speak ... so, yes, I'd say I'm doing pretty well."

You grab onto his shoulders, Your fingers dig into the flesh and you spread your legs to wrap around his waist, You could feel him through his own underwear and it just made you want to whine. But you didn't want to fuel his ego, You physical had to swallow it down.

He grabbed onto your thigh, His fingers couldn't fully wrap around the flesh but just the sight of his slender fingers made you feel empty. "Vous allez me tuer, cher."

You felt yourself twitch, Fuck, You needed him and he obviously needed you.

You grab onto his hair and pull him to your face, "Get the lube," You whispered. "It's in my bedside table."

The response he gave you was a shaky breath as he leaned forward, which just made him push his dick more up against you. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you, It was sloppy. You could hear him fumbling in the drawer with his hand.

You tighten your hand in his hair, It was soft in between your fingers. You tugged the strands to make his head turn and give you more control in the messy kiss.

"Merde-" Remy groaned, He pulled back from the kiss and he was gasping for air. He glanced over to the bedside drawer and he wrapped his hand around the bottle. A shiver ran down his body and straight to his cock when he felt your lips against his jaw. He fumbled with the cap, But he just couldn't focus on opening the damn bottle. "Ya gonna have to let me sit up."

You kissed along his jaw line and whispered, "Just focus." You guided his head to turn the other way, You wanted to kiss every inch of him. You felt him shiver against you and gasp as you kept kissing his neck. Your fingers wrap around his jaw to keep his face still.

"Hard to do that when you keep doin' that." He grumbled, He's got the cap inbetween his teeth now and he's trying to pull it off.

"Condoms." You just remembered that those were needed, You blinked and leaned back and your hand trailed down from his jaw to his collar bone. You felt his throat move as he swallowed. "The large should be in the drawer."

Remy looked towards the drawer, The lube tube hanging from his mouth like a dog toy. You could see lube dripping down his chin from where his teeth pierced the plastic. He grabbed the condoms, Your hand still in his hair and you pulled him back towards you with it.

"Y'know," Remy pulled the lube from his mouth with one hand and the other hand had the whole box of condoms. "Gambit thinks ya got a kink for usin' ol' remy's hair as a damn leash."

"Works doesn't it?"

Remy lets the condoms box fall beside them, A few of them spilled out onto the sheets, "Can't argue with that," He gave your thigh a hard squeeze, "Just might have to return the favor, cher."

You raised a brow and brought your thumb to his chin and wipe off the lube that had dripped onto the skin, "You're just a mess," You mumble, "Is this shit even edible?"

His shoulders lifted then fell and his head dipped a inch to lick the lube off the tip and he tilted his head in mock thought, "It tastes like cherry," He nibbled on your thumb with a grin and he kept his red eyes on your own. "So it must be, no?"

You can't help the laugh that climbs out of your throat, Your lips stretched into a grin, "Give it here," You moved your hand away from his teeth, "Best make sure you won't fall over and die on me."

"I aint gonna die from some cheap lube," He huffed, But he tossed it onto your chest.

You flip the box, "Lucks on your side," You looked back at him, "Its a water based formula."

"Now," Remy smirked, "Let's get back to business, shall we, mon cher?" He placed his hands on each side of your head and leaned down to kiss you, He wanted to part your lips with his tongue, He wanted to taste you so fucking badly but he pulled back a few inches to whisper, "Top or bottom?"

You almost wanted to laugh, but you pursed your lips and answered, "You grabbed your condoms, So ill just bottom."

He immediately dipped his head and kissed your neck, He felt your adams apple move as you swallowed and he felt each breath you took, god, He could die doing this. "Just lemme-" He grabbed the lube and pulled his glove off with his teeth, He left his glove on once while jacking you off and it took forever to get the stains out. "just lemme finish preparin' and i'll give ya exactly what ya need."

He grabbed the underside of you knees and pulled them apart, "Merde," He swallowed as he stared at you with hunger in his pretty eyes, He added a ton of lube on two of his fingers and he dipped his hand in between your thighs. "So pretty." He whispered as he slipped a finger in, He watched as you turned your head away and covered your mouth with the palm of your hand.

Remy tsked, "Cher, We're going to have a word about all that noise that ain't being made." He leaned forward and snatched your hand away before curling his finger inside of you, His fingertip searching for that bundle of nerves.

"Fuck--"

"There it is!" He laughed, He nipped at the inside of your thigh, "Ya get too quiet sometimes."

"You talk too much," You grumble and your hips dug down and took more of his slender finger inside, "and don't do alot."

"You- We both know," He slid another finger in, "that's a damn lie."

He kissed on your thigh, "Don't go forgetting who makes sure ya don't walk normal for days after our little meetups, cher."

"Bit cocky," You gasped as you closed your eyes and you began to fuck yourself on the two fingers.

Remy's fingers move and he pushes against that bundle and then stops just to push everywhere around that spot, "When i'm right, I'm right." He grazed your thigh with his teeth, "You'll be the one walking funny, not gambit."

Your back lifted off the sheets as he taunted you with not pushing that bundle of nerves again, Your hips moved downwards trying to make him brush against it, Your dick was aching and you knew it was weeping precum at this point, You felt it dripping down the side.

Remy pulled out and wiped his fingers on the sheets as he grabbed one of the condoms with his other hand, "Taking that as a compliment," He grinned and he ran a hand through his hair and out of his face, "Though," He pulled the wrapper off, "your about to be able to tell how hot you are and how damn good remy is in--" He slipped the condom on and smirked as he looked down at you, "in thirty seconds or so."

He leaned forward and grabbed a pillow, "Iift up f'me," He shoved the pillow under your hips when you lifted them.

You wrapped your leg around his hip and the other found its place on his shoulder, His hands found their place on your knees again, He swallowed and looked up at the ceiling, "Careful," He looked back down, "Might just take this as you wanting it rough, mon cher."

He slowly pushed his hips forward and he felt you swallowing him whole and with a groan and after one pause he was fully in, His head dipped down and he murmured something in french that your ears couldn't catch.

Your hands climbed their way up his neck and back into his hair as your back lifted up and your mouth opened with a groan.

"Ya hellbent on destroying those perfectly styled tresses of mine, aint ya, cher?" He slipped out a few inches before pushing back in, His eyes rolled back in his head at the warm feeling of you around him.

Your hands pull his face down towards your own as your teeth dug into your bottom lip, He shook his head as he looked down at you, "No, no," He poked your cheek with his thumb, "youre gonna keep makin' those damn sweet sounds--"

Your lips met his and he gasped when your teeth sunk into his bottom lip, His hips jutted forward at the sting. You pulled back and he blinked, "oh." He leaned back down to get your lips against his again.

"faster," You murmur as your hand pushed at the back of his head to push him closer to you, You felt him twitch inside of you as he moved a hand down to your thigh, That gave you a wonderful idea. The leg around remy's hip pushed against the small of the red haired's back to push him deeper inside of you.

"Merde--" Remy whines, His lips brush against your chin as his head ducked down to stare at the place you two connect at. He moved his hips in a familiar pace, His hand tightened around your thigh as he tried to ground himself. You were just so warm and good and that fucking mouth of yours, jesus, you were going to kill him. "If ya aint good."

You kissed his forehead and his head shot up which gave you the perfect angle to kiss his jaw, which you gladly did. You placed sloppy kisses all over the flesh.

"Darlin'" His hips move quicker and his voice gets more whiny.

"hm?" Your kisses stop as you get closer to his ear. His dick drug pass that spot and your eyes fluttered as you moaned, Your fingers nails dug into scalp as you started to move your hips to met his and his head dipped down to bury itself against your neck, He kissed your skin, which made your turn your head to give him more room.

Your leg around his waist pushed against his back again which this time made him lurch forward and his stomach brushed against your abandoned cock, That made the feeling in your stomach get worse and your cock weeped even more. You opened your mouth to ask remy to touch you but all that came out was more moans.

"I aint gonna last another goddamn minute if you keep this up," His thrust grows faster and then it stops immediately. A whine escapes your throat as remy gasps for breath above you, "I gotta change the damn position, cher."

He kissed your neck and leaned back up, He looked down at you, He moved his thumb to hook inside of your mouth, "Don't worry," He murmured as he moved his thumb around your mouth covering it in spit, "You won't be empty for too long."

Your brows furrowed for a second but before you could even process a question he pulled out and rolled over so he was laying down beside you, His thumb slipped out of your mouth, now both your holes were empty, how annoying.

Remy pats his thigh, "Come on, darlin'," He beckoned you with a curl of his index finger, "Ride me."

"Not even a please?" You whispered. Not that he needed to beg, you would gladly ride him all night long if he so wished.

"Ya know damn well the please is heavily implied." He grumbled, He moved his hands to his side as you climbed onto him. His hands went back to your hips.

"You gonna be good f'me, mon cher?" He leaned back onto the pillows and up at you.

"I feel like that question might be more for you then me," You grabbed his cock in your hand and slipped it back in, It was such a wonderful feeling and your head fell back as you sighed and your eyes closed as you soaked up the feeling of remy becoming one with you.

"Ha, You're real funny," His nails dug into your skin, "How's the view? You enjoying it?"

You tilted your head as you stared down at him, He did look beautiful, his red hair was spewed across the pillowcase and his cheeks were a dusted pink, You could see the marks you left on his chest and neck the night before. You moved your hand to lay flat against his chest and you felt each breath he took as his chest lifted and fell, god, he was so pretty. You could just bite him.

You began moving up and down, His body arched and his neck was bared to you, Something overcame you and your fingers wrapped around his throat as you went faster.

"You really are going to kill me, cher," He whined, His hips began moving up to met you in the middle. It had you groaning and squeezing tighter around his neck.

The sound of flesh hitting each other bounced off the walls and the room was filled with the sounds of both of you groaning and moaning each other's praises.

"A damn kiss would be good f'me right now," Remy moaned, His hips went faster to met your slower movements that made your head swim. "Come on, be a good boy and kiss ya man."

You nodded, he felt so deep inside you, so fucking good. You leaned down to give him a quick peck.

His hips started to go faster, Which made you moan and your back arched, your fingers dug into his shoulders. Your eyelids closed and your mouth opened to let out all the noises that climbed up your throat.

"Mmmmf-" Remy groaned, He pulls you down faster on his cock, you felt so good and warm and there was that squeeze you did ever few seconds that just made him--

You felt the condom swell inside of you and your brows furrowed and you gasped for air, "Did you just...?" you questioned him as his hips slowed down.

His head fell back against the pillows with a groan, "Yeah," He closed his eyes as he took deep breaths and you watched his chest go up and down quite quickly, "I have a damn good excuse, cher."

"Yeah?" Your own cock was still abandoned and weeping as it brushed against the abs in front of you and each brush made your hips lift, You wanted to paint remy's skin in you.

"Shaddup," He swatted your side, "I swear im not this quick, usually."

You nodded and leaned down to place your hands by his head as you started to lift your hips again to chase your own release.

"Oh--" He whined. He stares up at you, his eyes scan every inch of you and he couldn't help but admire you. The small shine that decorated your skin from the lamp on the bedside, Every thing about your body was perfect to him and he wanted to kiss all of it.

"Keep going?"

"Hell yeah," He nodded, "I aint nowhere done with ya, cher." He moves his hand down to grab your weeping cock, His thumb rubbed against the tip. You immediately reacted and thrusted up into his hand you moaned, The feeling of finally being touched was amazing. Your head was feeling light and that knot in your stomach tightened as you fucked his hand.

"Ya just love gambit's hand on ya," His hand squeezed the base of your cock and he slowed down his hips to match the pace of his hand.

You were being drowned in pleasure, You couldn't decide if you wanted to fuck yourself on his dick or fuck his hand, Both felt so good, everything felt so fucking good. You whined and thrusted in his hand, your tip brushed against his stomach and fucking hell--

Your back arched as you grabbed onto his shoulders, He was so deep inside of you and his hand was warm and squeezed you every few seconds, sweet jesus, this man was amazing.

"Not so gentle tonight," He smirked up at you, "are we, mon cher?" His breath hitched at the nails digging into his skin, it was definitely going to leave crescent shapes.

You blinked as his words met your ears and you leaned down to kiss on his collarbones for a silent apology.

"You're not sorry," He laughed, His hand tightened and slowly dragged themselves from the base to the tip.

You kissed the crescent shapes and looked up at him with eyes that you knew made him melt inside and his knees into noodles. Your mind swam at the feeling of his hand, You tried to focus but all you wanted to do was fuck his hand.

"Ya gonna apologize to every mark you'd made," He questioned, His free hand drug its nails against your scalp and through the strands. He watched as you nodded.

"Damn good manners," He looked down and watched you fuck his hand and the way your mouth opened, He wouldn't be surprised if you started drooling. The idea of you doing something that pathetic made him flush, He would have to see if that would be something you'd find hot. "Gambit likes those manners."

You head tilted to the side and laid against his chest, You moaned as your hips kept fucking his hand. Your head was swimming and you only had one thought, like a dog in heat. All you could do was fuck and whimper.

"Ya close, darlin'?" He loosened his hand on your cock, "I know that whimper ya get every time ya get close."

Your hips faltered but he picked up your slack, Your eyes rolled back into your head. "Shit." You whined.

"Ah-ah," He chided, "language."

Your head struggled to process the words because if you did process them you wouldve made a comment about how he uses that language as well, But you couldn't process shit as his hips started to move again with the same fast pace as his hand. Your legs were starting to burn as you moved up and down, you were slowing down now.

You whined when you felt his hands start to vibrate, It was a weird sensation and something that you didn't even know he could do. You looked down to see his hands growing that familiar pink hue that comes from his powers, "When did you learn you could do that?" The vibrations were rushing up your spine and it made you want to release even more, You were getting closer to the edge now and his thumb-- vibrating thumb at that was pushing against your tip and smearing your precum all over your cock, "Ah- fuck- remy-"

"Ya say that like i wasn't doing all sorts of fun with my powers since the beginning." Remy laughs, He drags his thumb down from the tip and down the underside of your cock all the way to your balls, which he cupped in his palm. He tilts his head and watches every little emotion that crosses your face, His eyes dart all over your body watching every reaction that your body makes, like you were his own personal experiment.

Your head fell back and your hips dug down, All your thoughts were mush, You couldn't even think properly right now, All you think about was his cock and his hands and those beautiful eyes of his that seemed to be glued to you.

"Ya like that, don't ya?" His hand moved to wrap itself back around your length and it moved down to the base and sat there, "Ya getting close, cher?"

You nodded, The knot in your stomach was getting tighter and you wanted to unloosen it, You leaned down and buried your face in his shoulders and your mouth opened to bury your teeth in his flesh.

"Gonna make a mess on gambit's chest?" He groaned at the feeling and his hips were starting to falter again.

Your let go of his flesh and turned your head to be buried in his neck instead, "sweet jesus." you whined.

"That a prayer, cher?" He moved his other hand to grasp your balls, "Gonna keep moaning f'me like a pretty little thing?" His hand started to vibrate around your balls as your eyes rolled back into your head, "Make me feel like the lucky one here, cher."

Your teeth sunk back into him as you finally came, The feeling made your head feel fuzzy and your body relaxed into his, God, that felt good.

"ah-ah," He chided, "Watch those damn fangs." His hand grabbed onto your locks and pulled you back, He glanced down at his shoulder and he was sure he could count all your teeth in the mark, "Damn, cher, gonna have a mark for a week."

"Sorry," You swallowed, Your eyes blinked slowly as you stared at him. You felt so good, right now.

"Better be," He smiled at you, He released your hair and patted your cheek, "damn sharp teeth ya got there."

You lifted your hips a little to slip him out and flopped onto the pillows beside him.

"Tired, darlin'?" He leaned up and grabbed a handful of tissues off the bedside, he leaned back on his thighs and began wiping your stomach clean before doing himself.

"What are we gonna tell charles and erik?" The fact that you two weren't supposed to be together this night came rushing back to your mind ruining every good feeling you just had.

"Nothin'?" Remy laughed awkwardly, "We're grown ass adults-" He pulled the condom off his cock and cleaned himself off fully, "They don't need to know."

"I know that," You grumble, You watched every move he made.

"Ya think they're suspicious we're bangin'?" He teased, He tossed the used condom and tissue into the bin beside the bed. He laid down on the pillow beside you.

"Erik will probably think you're corrupting me," You teased.

"Erik has called me worse, cher," He grabbed his cigarette off the bedside and fumbled with the lighter, He took a deep breath once he finally got it lit.

You stared at his lips that were wrapped around the end of the cig, "What time is the flight tomorrow?"

"bout noon," He held the cigarette out for you to take a drag. You shook your head, you didn't want to smoke right now. He brought it back to his lips, "Ya gonna stay up all night?"

"no."

His free hand ran its way through your hair, "Gambit isn't gonna let ya sit here and worry all night about the professor and that metalhead."

You laughed, "Metal head."

"They'll say their piece, We'll tell em a lie, then we'll go back to bangin'" He blew some smoke up towards your face, Which in response you lightly shoved his face away. "Rude."

"Goodnight, remy," You patted his chest before rolling over onto your side and closing your eyes, You tried to ignore as your boss -- erik -- face flicked into your head.

"Night, cher."

Now it was just a waiting game, It was time to see who would leave first. It always happened the same way: one of you would wake up first and leave without waking the other. The one who left would always make sure to leave a stack of cash on the bedside to cover all expenses.

It was just a question on who would it be this time?

[mrsriddles-blog]

Model | M.S

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

WC: 2.2k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, smutty scene, pregnancy, fluff, etc.

Summary: Unexpectedly, you hit it off with Matt at your new modeling gig for the Space Camp Lip Balm shoot.

"Alls Nick needs you to do is allow us to get some shots of you applying his lip balms. Try to look relaxed. For a few photos, make direct eye contact with the camera. Get into the vibe and just really try and feel yourself." Lora, your manager, says.

"I can do that." You murmur.

You were dragged off to the bathroom of the little set they've set up as some tropical themed location. You were given a black two piece swimsuit and they styled your hair while doing light makeup.

"What do you think?" The stylist asks her boss, Nick who stood with his brothers.

Nick looks at you and studies you as he realizes how professional you were compared to the other models that came in. The other models were all fan girls of him and his brothers, and to say the least...it was exhausting. Yet, your face was blank, and your eyes guarding any thoughts or worries you may be having.

"I like the black...but I almost think we need a color to make it pop...it needs to be yellow. Do we have a yellow cardigan thing?" Nick asks.

"Um...no." The stylist says slowly.

"Would my yellow button up work?" Matt asks.

"Try that. Go help her get that on and make sure her hair isn't tucked into the shirt." Nick says.

Matt motions you to follow him and you do. You admired his messy hair and his glasses in silence as he opened the door to the bathroom. He starts to unbutton the pastel yellow button up he wore to reveal a white tank top underneath it. He shrugs it off and your eyes follow his tattoos. His eyes follow yours and he smiles slyly.

"Like em'?" He asks as he helps you put your arms into the button up.

"Mhm. They look really cool. Does each one have a different meaning to you?" You ask softly.

He was thrown off by your velvety voice, but he somehow managed to keep his cool as he helps even out the button up and adjust your hair.

"Yeah...have you ever considered getting tattoos?" He asks.

"I want a lot, but it could affect my modeling career. My manager would kill me before I stepped foot into a tattoo shop." You say, a sad little laugh at the end.

"I'm Matt...Matt Sturniolo." He murmurs, his nerves getting the best of him as he prepared for a fan girl moment. 

"It's nice to meet you, Matt. I'm Y/n, but call me Y/n/n. I prefer it." You admit.

You didn't seemed fazed by his name and it was relieving to him. He looks you over slowly and Nick was right about it having to be yellow. He found himself liking the way you looked in his button up shirt. It went to about mid-thigh on you and it overall made you look even cuter to him.

"Well hold on there, Y/n/n...this collar is fucked up." He murmurs as he steps closer to you.

His hands brush down your neck, goosebumps following in their trail as you look up at him through your eyelashes unintentionally. He adjust the collar slowly before his eyes find yours.

"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" He murmurs.

"I-I...thank you, Matt." You murmur, your cheeks flushing red.

He smirks slyly as he steps back. He has you do a slow turn so that he can make sure it's perfect and that Nick won't rip him a new hole.

"Alright, you look perfect. Almost think a white swimming suit would look good with a pink button up. I got one of those out in the car too." He murmurs.

"Thank fuck. It looks perfect." Nick says.

"What if you have her do a couple photos in a white swim suit with that pink button up I got in the car?" Matt suggests.

"Go grab it. So far we are doing good on time. The other model walked out. She was mad that I asked her to do more shots because she was too busy flirting with Chris." Nick sighs.

While Matt leaves, you were instructed on different poses by Nick. You stand by Nick as you both look over the shots.

"They all look great!" Nick exclaims excitedly.

It was the one shoot that went right. He admired your dedication to your work and the professionalism you had. There was a time and place for fooling around and another for being professional. You, thankfully knew the difference and for that, he was thankful.

"Alright, are you cool with us doing another shoot in a different outfit?" He asks.

"Yeah, of course." You say softly.

"The stylist stepped out for lunch." Laura, Nicks manager says.

"I can get changed and touch up my makeup and hair. It's not a big deal." You say, noticing the stress on Nick's face.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Mhm. And you can be honest when I come out and you're not a fan of the makeup or something. I can fix it." You say, trying to lighten the mood by smiling.

"You truly are the saving grace of today. Thank you." Nick says, a wave of relief washing over him.

You walk back to the room and grab your bag, even though typically the outfits are supplied. You had come prepared with options. You grab the white bikini set and put it on. You were trying to clasp the back, but you might've underestimated how small it was. The door opens and you look in the mirror to see Matt.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Nick said you were getting ready, but I assumed you were done changing." Matt says.

"Your okay! Actually, can you help me? I can't get this clasped..." You admit quietly, your cheeks flushing red as you catch him slyly smirk.

He closed the door and sets the button up over a chair. You move your hands to the front of the top to hold it in place as he clasps it.

"Hey, y/n/n?" He murmurs as he watches you adjust your top and bottoms.

"Hm?" You hum softly.

"Could I get your number?" He asks.

"Sure." You say softly with a smile.

He smiles and grabs the pink button up and helps you put it on. You sit and do some touch ups to your makeup before going into the light and neutral shades of eyeshadow and going in with pinks.

You talked with Matt, giving him your number. He made you laugh and smile way more than you had in a long time.

You walk out, the two of you talking about a movie you both had watched recently.

"I love the eyeshadow! It all looks perfect. The eyeshadow look and colors was a good choice." Nick compliments.

Soon you were doing different poses for different shots. You began to feel more yourself as you got further along. It wasn’t long before Nick, his brothers, and you were around the screen and looking at the shots.

The park was becoming more empty, but you continued to enjoy every moment with Matt. You were excited when he texted you and asked to hang out.

"Look, there's a Photo Booth!" Matt says, dragging you towards it.

It was small and had enough for one person to sit at most. Matt sits and pulls you down on his knee. He pays and you both start with a smile, then silly faces, but before you both could do the next pose, he was gently guiding you to look at him.

He leans forward, kissing you softly. You respond softly—almost unsure of what to do. You move your hands to his hair, gently tugging at it as you hold him closer.

You throw your leg over him, straddling him as you sit on top of the growing bulge. He pulls away, kissing down your jaw before kissing down your neck. He reaches out and puts another dollar into the machine.

He nips at your neck and you gasp. He unbuttons your shirt before standing and pinning you against the back of the photo booth wall.

"Y/n/n, we are going to do a little bit of a risky game." He breathes.

"W-What is it?" You whisper.

"When I tell you to put a dollar in, put one in and let it take photos of us. We don't know who's going to walk past this photo booth, but we are going to continue. Okay?" He asks.

"Y-Yeah." She breathes.

He hands her a wad of dollars he had gotten before their outing today. He gets on his knees and puts her legs over his shoulders.

"No panties? Dirty girl." He murmurs as he lifts your skirt.

Your cheeks flush red before you gasp as his mouth attacks your clit. You had done things before and you've been eaten out, poorly, which made you uncomfortable at ever trying it again. But, Matt knew exactly what he was doing. 

"M-Matt!" You moan, arching your back as your hips move to their own accord. 

You whine in frustration as his mouth leaves your clit. He looks up at you, his chin glistening with your juices.

"Put a dollar in, baby." He murmurs.

You lean down a bit and put the dollar in before leaning back against the wall. He grins before he goes back to eating you out. You throw your head back as you bury your hand in his hair, pushing him closer to you. He buries two fingers in you, thrusting them out slowly. You whimper as you grind against his face before coming. You pant as you slump against the wall.

"Fuck baby, you taste like heaven." He murmurs.

He helps you adjust you clothes before picking up all the pictures on the ground. He smiles as he starts to look through them. Your cheeks flush red at them, but you do think it added to the fun.

"Come on. Let's go to Walmart before they close." He murmurs.

"Walmart? Why?" You ask, following behind him.

"We are getting a Polaroid camera because that was fucking fun. Maybe a lock box because no one but you and I will get to see these pictures. You truly are meant to be a model, baby." He murmurs, taking your hand in his.

"Just one more!" Nick sighs.

The model continues to storm away, throwing down a book. Chris bites his lip before looking at his brother.

"I can go...so that they focus, y'know." He mumbles.

"No, no, you're fine." Nick sighs.

"Hey guys!" Matt says, walking hand in hand with you.

"Y/n/n! Thank god you're here!" Nick exclaims.

"What's wrong?" You ask, rubbing your swollen five month belly with your hand.

To say the least, Matt got a bit carried away with the thought of you having his baby. You didn't regret it though.

"Could we do some shots of you?" He asks.

"Um...Nick...I'm five months pregnant." You say confused.

"I do shots of you all the time. I think you look like a fucking goddess pregnant." Matt says with a sly grin.

Both his brothers ew and cover their ears as you smack Matt who was laughing.

"Not appropriate Matthew!" You scold.

"Come on, baby. Do a couple shots for him. What's five months of being pregnant gotta do with some shots?" He murmurs.

"Matt...typically for shots like this, you don't want a pregnant woman. The most shoots I've been able to get my hands on is maternity shoots. You typically want someone...skinner and prettier." You explain.

"Okay, let's start with the fact that you are fucking gorgeous and you are creating a human in there. We need to break the fucking stigma of wanting skinny and blonde models. Go get your ass to that dressing room and find something autumn like and get out here for some shots!" Nick rants.

You look at him, awed with his speech as your eyes tear up. He pales, raising his hands as if to surrender.

"Y/n/n, what's wrong?" He asks.

You let a sob out as Matt goes to grab you, but you pull Nick into a hug.

"That's just the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. You truly are the sweetest and most feminist man I know." You say.

"Aww, Y/n/n, you're okay." He murmurs.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. The hormones, y'know. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time I've cried today." You say, pulling back to wipe your tears.

"What? You? There's no way." Nick says, although he knew you had probably cried like ten times today as Matt looks off and nods slowly as he remembers this morning.

"Oh yeah. I'm a whole train wreck...gosh, how does Matt even deal with me." You mumble as your eyes well up again.

"Hey, no tears. Matt loves you and you love Matt. And the both of you love this baby. It's okay to be a train wreck. But, you both will look back and laugh at these silly moments you've been having." Nick says softly.

You laugh and nod before Matt was gently guiding you to the dressing room.

[sharpth1ng]

Please read this whole post and spread it. I knew there was something fucking off about this election. Don't let them get away with this in secret.

Even if your vote wasn't challenged, please follow the above instructions to contact the White house and demand that they protect your right to at least an ounce of actual democracy.

PROOF IN CASE YOU NEED IT

[the-nation-of-today]

On and up but the remedy pulls me back Wish to God that the enemy won't attack ↳ requested by @motley-cunt

[starwikia]

suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am. 

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions. 

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT. 

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

[astranauticus]

𝘚𝘤𝘢𝘳-𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

[golyadkin]

layer by layer