#or if anyone will hear it from one post out of a million
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tinyfantasminha · 2 days ago
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I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation
But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.
Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.
Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.
And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.
It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.
''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)
In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀
If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 2 days ago
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“even i’m not into that shit”
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❤︎ synopsis — the sleep token members being fucking morons and fucking around
pairing: sleep token members x gn!reader (can be platonic or romantic)
theme: crack ✦
a/n: I’M BACK !!!! hopefully i don’t disappear for like a good fifty years after this. this is my third set of stupid ass headcanons. i pulled my shitty humor out of my ass for this one, enjoy !!! (the original ask got swallowed by my dumbass because i accidentally posted the unfinished fic 💀 this is dedicated to my bestie @dead-end-fanfiction)
cw: i think the title speaks for itself
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➵ vessel
i just know this man is the most unhygienic motherfucker to ever exist
more specifically with his teeth. he cannot brush his teeth to save his life
like ??? this all powerful, dark deity, has the most stinky ass breath that if anyone dares to even breath it in, they’d disintegrate on the spot
like what the fuck vessel, you’re better than this
i love vessel but he just does weird shit sometimes
he sleeps butt ass naked
and one time you accidentally walked in on him while he was literally stripping to get ready for bed
he stood there like an npc while you were freaking out
“…. what’s wrong—“ “what’s wrong is that YOU’RE BUTT ASS NAKED IN FRONT OF ME—“
vessel is easily fascinated by human things. i mean - he was once human, so he likes to keep in touch every now and then.
however, out of all of the human things he had to have an obsession with.
… it was rubber ducks
this isn’t even explainable— how do you explain this all-powerful sleep entity to be obsessed with rubber ducks
he literally has a whole room dedicated to his collection of anything rubber duck related. give him a gift that has something to do with ducks and he’s making out with you on the spot
that’s not a joke, he did that with you before
➵ ii
this motherfucker is on his last limb and he’s being held together by paper clips
ii’s not even the leader but he cannot catch a break to save his life
he’s the only one that knows how to cook
one time he left ivy and the vesselettes in the kitchen by themselves. came back to house fires and high pitched screaming that definitely was not from the ladies
ii makes bomb ass banana cream pie though
ik for a fact this man does NOT keep his room clean
you once walked into his room to ask him a favor and there were like - a million drumsticks everywhere on the floor while he sat in the center of it
how does one possess that many drumsticks???
“dude what the f— clean your room!” “it gives me inner peace, y/n. go away.”
ii’s scared of the jollibee mascot
he once went out with his buddies to get some of that fast food. that giant red and yellow fuckass bee then came out of nowhere and spooked the shit out of ii
he then socked the guy in the face so hard the dude wearing the costume had a bloody nose
ii quickly fled the scene to not get arrested
after that he’s had a fear of fast food mascots in general, it’s kinda funny.
don’t bring ii near the jack in the box mascot though, he’s got some trauma from what he’s seen on twitter
➵ iii
zesty ahh mf
plays his bass like he’s fingering someone’s asshole like 🤨 whatcha doin’ iii ??
the type of man to set like fifty million alarms but never wakes up to any of them
however he wakes up everyone else in the process
it gets annoying hearing the “by the seaside” ringtone every morning at 6am. so one day you came into his room and poured ice cold water on him to wake him up
iii didn’t wake up from that btw, you thought it was dead
“…. bro wtf wake up—“
thankfully he wasn’t
biggest kpop stan
he’s a boy group stan and his favorite group is ateez
constantly blasting guerilla too
also i feel like iii owns a tumblr blog too
he’d be out here posting some shih like “pov you’re locked in a room w him for twenty four hours and you have to tickle his balls wyd” 💀
he probably posts also moodboards or some shi and tags them like an actual tumblr blogger
#it took my ahh fifty hours to make this plz repost it
stalks his fans on twitter
gets scared by said fans on twitter
“wdym they wanna get me pregnant”
breaks his bass every four hours during practice and vessel chews his ahh out every time
but it’s funny because you’re always there to help him
➵ ivy
he likes to act like he’s tough shit but ivy is a huge nerd
literally the definition of “magical in bed” except the magic is him explaining the gaming system of magic the gathering
hot asf but has no bitches frfr
also the definition of loser trapped in a hottie’s body
i’d like to believe that ivy has a crunchy ipad kid cough
and i mean CRUNCHY. bro will start choking on his saliva and start coughing like a dying seal
it’s quite hilarious, but also concerning at the same time
the first time you heard him cough like that, you were like 😟
“AEUGH- HEUGH— BEUHSHAK-“ “ivy—“
that pretty sums up the entire interaction
this bitch looks like he ate glue as a kid
more specifically glitter glue. the pink kind.
idk that sounds like ivy
he gets literal death coffee in the morning too btw
no ice. no sugar. straight shots of espresso.
eight shots, btw.
the coffee looks blacker than the black hole.
iii tried some of his coffee one time and spat it all in your face. ivy watched with his hell coffee in hand as you beat the shit out of iii
yeah, safe to say ivy was banned from having that kind of coffee for a while
so yeah. that pretty much sums up the kind of person ivy is
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itsahotminuteinbetween · 10 months ago
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the ratio of complimenting someone to being complimented is super skewered. yes I do regularly give compliments because its literally like making a comment about the weather. it's just true. yes you are beautiful. yes you are intelligent. yes you are outstanding. yes i do love you even if I haven't met you. yes i do find your opinion and your existence important. yes your thoughts do matter. it's just a fact.
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binders-and-beanies · 7 months ago
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#sry I need to vent more abt my tattoo pain bc I physically cannot do anything productive rn im completely and totally incapacitated#can’t read anything beyond short posts or texts. can’t eat or move at all#tried to sleep through it so it would at least Be Tomorrow so I can get medical help. but the jolts of pain make me like Jump#hence me being sent home from work early today like it’s not even that I was complaining I was just flinching involuntarily so much#and was unable to work or function at all. thank god I don’t work retail rn I remember the pain of tattoo infections in that context#it’s so Abrupt it feels like I’m being stabbed or repeatedly bitten#literally trying not to scream bc I have a roommate. but he almost certainly hears me crying and saying ouch#which sucks bc I barely know the guy lol he has no context. At least on my drive home I could scream as much as I needed#literally would go to the ER if I could afford it and that sounds so dramatic bc it is#it doesn’t feel like it can wait. genuinely don’t know how I’m gonna get through the night#I haven’t slept in like 60 hours and I doubt I will tonight. but it hurts too much to even tell if I’m tired#and I don’t have time for this!! I have so much I need to be doing. I hate that the only way I can have Time is to be Extra Disabled#in a way that leaves me completely unable to do the things I normally can fight through despite burnout#and I was just at health services yesterday asking them to do insurance paperwork that they couldn’t do#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back#I have Another tattoo infection but I pinky promise I take such good care of them#and my artist is like the best of the best too. it’s like it doesn’t matter what either of us does to keep me safe#and I know if anyone responds to this it will be to tell me to stop getting tattoos#but that’s literally like telling me not to get top surgery if I’m immunocompromised n might have recovery complications#both are equally important gender affirming medical procedures to me I’m not joking#and I hate always having to justify this whilst in agonizing pain. I hate answering the same things every time bc still no one believes me#I say this as someone who lives every moment in baseline pain that would have your average person writhing on the floor and I ignore it#this is truly unbearable if I hadn’t been through it a million times I would think it was life threatening#just needed to get it out ig. bc it’s all I can physically do. until health services opens in 12 hours#PLEASE let them have availability tomorrow bc i have literally no option on weekends#this is just. so upsetting and embarrassing. I don’t have time or emotional capacity for this#personal#mine#vent post
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rafeysbunny · 10 days ago
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
masterlist
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synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
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it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
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harrysfolklore · 2 months ago
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max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation
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summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it
folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.
However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.
In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.
Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.
The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.
"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."
The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.
"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."
The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.
"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."
"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.
"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.
The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.
And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.
"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.
"Always schatje, I love you."
In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.
"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"
"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."
"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.
"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."
The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.
Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.
"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.
"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.
"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"
"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.
"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."
His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.
His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."
On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.
"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.
"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.
"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."
A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.
"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."
During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.
"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."
The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.
"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."
In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.
"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."
The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.
"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."
The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.
In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.
"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."
The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.
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mothman-etd · 3 months ago
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I have talked a few times about Psychological Operations or psyops on here, but I would like to point out a real world example of a PO Operation that was found out recently by the Department of Justice.
Before that though, If you would like to read more about the actual position of a PO soldier, you can look no further then the PO benefits page on the US Army special operations recruitment website (https://www.goarmysof.army.mil/PO/).
Personally I feel like many people still believe psyops to be some kind of conspiracy theory instead of a fairly standard military division in almost all modern militaries, anyways onto the example.
The US Department of Justice is going after (indicting) two RT (Russian state media) employees for committing fraud and violating the Foreign Agents Registration Act.
Basically they created a front "media" company in Tennessee, translated russian propaganda videos into english, then paid right-wing influencers to promote (reblog/retweet/talk about on streams) said videos.
Three of the named influencers that I could find were Tim Pool, Dave Rubin and Benny Johnson.
I honestly have no idea who these three are, but supposedly their platforms have millions of followers. Also, some of these influencers were paid up too $100,000 a week to promote their videos and messaging.
So to summarize, Russia setup a fake company to pay American influencers to repeat their lies so that their followers would interpret those lies as legitimate since their were coming from a source they trust.
When people talk about election interference this is what we are talking about.
$100K a week is insane money for most, I am sure many people would be hard pressed to not sell their soul for that much money. Many of the videos from this media company were lies about the Ukraine war, and looking into Tim Pool it seems he also has a very anti-Ukraine stance (Audio from one of this podcasts https://v.redd.it/41xgvuri0vmd1/DASH_AUDIO_128.mp4)
I generally do not talk about my job on here, but corporations used to pay me to run seminars to help train their employees on spotting these types of attacks--mainly targeted psyops attacks from nation states to hack into their company via end user interaction.
Or in layman's terms, to help companies protect themselves from Russian Ransomware Thieves and Chinese Intellectual Property/Information collectors. Both of these being extensions of the Psychological Operations military divisions of each country.
I am really not sure how to end this post other than I am just trying to show people how real it is that the militaries of the world are spending obscene amounts of money in trying to influence your opinions and day to day life via your internet consumption.
Surf responsibility, be very wary of anyone telling you not to vote and don't believe everything you see/hear on TikTok/youtube/twitter/Insta etc etc
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taintandviolent · 3 months ago
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Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!
summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]
word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.
a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 
Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?
Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 
He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.
So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 
"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"
Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 
"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."
"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 
Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.
Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.
Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 
"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."
I’ll bet he is, you thought. 
He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.
"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.
"Enchanté." (Enchanted)
Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)
His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 
"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."
Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.
"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.
“Sit a while, cher.” 
You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 
You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 
There we go. That’s better.
He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 
Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 
As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.
It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.
"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 
Remy moves first. 
"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 
The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 
Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 
“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 
He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 
“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 
"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.
Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.
He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 
Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.
"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 
Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 
You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 
It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  
"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."
“I have not!”
“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 
He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.
You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 
He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.
For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.
"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 
After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 
Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 
Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.
“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”
“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 
Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.
“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.
"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."
His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.
“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.
Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.
He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 
"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."
You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."
“Whaddya’ need?”
“N-need you… so bad.” 
“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 
He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 
“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  
A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 
Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 
Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 
Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 
“Wow,” you finally choke.
Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 
You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 
He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)
You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 
“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 
Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 
“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 
“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 
“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”
His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 
In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 
Oh my god. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 
“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 
He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.
You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 
There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 
“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 
He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 
By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 
Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”
Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 
“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 
He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 
Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.
Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 
Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 
You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.
“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 
“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.
Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”
He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 
“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 
His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 
You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 
“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 
“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.
The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.
“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.
“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”
“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 
As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 
The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 
He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.
“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.
You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 
If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 
Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 
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fastandcarlos · 6 months ago
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Family Affair ~ Max Verstappen
Summary: it’s a family affair at the singapore grand prix as the entire verstappen family come to cheer max on
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ynusername just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 103,382 others
ynusername: I’ll give you three guesses as to where we’re off to 🏎️
tagged: maxverstappen1
28,492 comments
maxverstappen1: well aren’t I just the luckiest dad/husband in the world 🩷
username1: we love when the verstappens all show up
username2: I can’t deal with how cute you all are
charles_leclerc: yesssssss!! leo can’t wait for all the pup cuddles this weekend
ynusername: nvm the kids, all the cuddles will come from me
danielricciardo: it’s been too long, can’t wait for the fam to reunite
maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo you do know you’re not actually family…don’t you?
danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 can you stop ruining my dreams please and thank you
redbullracing: we’re preparing ourselves for all the chaos 🤯
username3: watch max be exhausted before even getting in the car dealing with the kids and y/n
username4: cannot wait for the verstappen spam all weekend 😍
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maxverstappen1 just posted
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 2,291,202 others
maxverstappen1: project verstappen junior is well underway, checkout y/s/n learning the ropes during practice this morning 🏁
72,291 comments
schecoperez: when I’m next in need of a new engineer I’ll be sure to give y/s/n a call!
ynusername: @/schechoperez he would absolutely love to work for uncle checo ❤️
username4: just when we all thought these kids could not get any cuter, max posts this
username5: it’s the baby uniform for me 😅
oscarpiastri: y/s/n already looks like he does a better job than anyone at mclaren
mclaren: @/oscarpiastri we’ll pretend we didn’t hear that
ynusername: I’m never gonna be able to escape f1 am I??
username6: max must be the proudest parent seeing his son so in love with what he does
pierregasly: little guy is looking good in blue max!!
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redbullracing just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, ynusername and 492,971 others
redbullracing: when all the verstappens are wearing blue, it only means one thing 🏆🏁
tagged: maxverstappen1 and ynusername
28,491 comments
maxverstappen1: another big push this weekend team, with my favourite mascots I’m sure p1 has my name all over it
username7: petition for team verstappen to come and cheerlead for me instead
username8: asking for a friend…can your ovaries burst just from a photo?
ynusername: team max! (and @/schechoperez 🎉)
username9: if anyone was wondering where all the good genes went…look no further
username10: pls tell me that is max’s helmet that y/d/n is wearing, it’s drowning her 😭
ynusername: @/username10 don’t worry, it is, she insists on trying it on when max finishes it, the stench is gross
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername excuse me, I always smell a million dollars
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maxverstappen1 just posted
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liked by redbullracing, alex_albon and 3,032,583 others
maxverstappen1: on pole for tomorrow, job done for another day, now to rest up and relax for tomorrow. not sure how possible that will be with the kids, the pink bow was a new low 🥺🩷
68,302 comments
estebanocon: mate the bow should stay…really brings out the colour in your eyes
georgerussell63: sorry max, I’m never going to be able to take you seriously again
ynusername: damn love, y/d/n really has got you wrapped around her little finger 😂
maxverstappen1: @/ynusername what can I say? she really is a daddy’s girl 😊
username11: look at his smile, that’s a true proud dad smile going on there
username12: I swear max you have never looked better 😍
carlossainz55: almost at smooth operator level there max!!
maxverstappen1: @/carlossainz55 from you sir I will take that as a complete
pierregasly: that reminds me, I really must update your photo contact on my phone
fernandoalo_oficial: you lose all street cred the moment you become a dad I’m afraid max
username13: not all the drivers finally taking revenge and getting back at max 😂😂
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ynusername just posted
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ynusername: the three stages of race week with children. 1) run around with loads of energy. 2) begin to tire but remind yourself how cute your children are when they give you cute notes. 3) completely collapse after the race when you realise your children have tired you out before the lights even went out. sorry bub, but remember we love you dearly 🩷🩷🩷🩷
tagged: maxverstappen1
42,593 comments
maxverstappen1: I’ll be good as new for tomorrow, spending time with you guys will always be my priority. I love you all so much more 🥺❤️
landonorris: I remember the days when max used to write me cute notes like that 😭
danielricciardo: @/landonorris and the days when he used to play tag with me around the paddock too
landonorris: @/danielricciardo he’s abandoned us now for the kids…my heart is broken
yukitsunoda0511: that looks like a man trying to get five minutes peace from his kids on the right 😂
maxverstappen1: @/yukitsunoda0511 guilty as charged
username13: just when I think we possibly couldn’t get anymore cute dad max photos for the weekend, we end up getting more
username14: you just know that max absolutely dotes on his two angels
oscarpiastri: petition for the two of you to adopt me, I want to be part of all this fun too 🥺
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maxverstappen1 just posted
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liked by ynusername, schecoperez and 3,382,503 others
maxverstappen1: singapore p1 🏁🎉 couldn’t have done it without my incredible team cheering me on, having them beside me constantly reminds me of the sacrifices they all make. y/n, y/s/n, y/d/n, you guys are the best. thanks for all the support team, now to soak up all the daddy cuddles before the next one 🔥
tagged: ynusername
194,328 comments
ynusername: words cannot begin to express how proud we are of you!! nights like this simply don’t get better my love 🤩
redbullracing: congratulations on a great week of racing max, enjoy the time with your family now
username15: poor y/d/n looks so exhausted, it must be hard work cheering for daddy
landonorris: are those daddy cuddles just from y/s/n and y/d/n????
maxverstappen1: @/landonorris what exactly are you implying?
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 🫢🫢🫢🫢
charles_leclerc: congrats on a great week max, an honour to share the podium with you again
lance_stroll: lovely to finally meet all the family my man, enjoy the rest and recovery with your little ones
username16: are we all just going to pretend like we don’t know what lando is hinting at back there?
username17: max screams daddy material…literally 😅
georgerussell63: we couldn’t not let you win this one…we just didn’t wanna upset the kids 😂
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ynusername just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 629,402 others
ynusername: husband, father, grand prix winner, is there anything that this man can’t do? we are so proud of you max, every time I think you can’t achieve more, you go and prove me wrong. thank you for the best weekend with our little team ❤️🔥
tagged: maxverstappen1
42,402 comments
carlossainz55: he’s yet to beat me at fifa…that’s something he can’t do 😂
logansargeant: I swear you guys are the ultimate goals, if anyone asks, this is how I want my future to look!!
maxverstappen1: thank you for cheering me on, I hope you guys know that I do all of this for you 🥺
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 ofc we do, and once again you’ve reminded our children that hard work really does pay off
danielricciardo: I remember the days when he used to hug me like that 😭
ynusername: @/danielricciardo MOVE ON AND LET IT GO 😂😂😂
username18: he’s lucky to have someone as amazing as you in his corner y/n
username19: pls tell me this is the last post this weekend, my heart can’t take anymore adorableness 💔
landonorris: go team verstappen!! (I’m secretly rooting for you guys!)
redbullracing: remember y/n you’re always welcome in the paddock, we’ve loved having you, y/d/n and our future world champion y/s/n with us this weekend 😊
——
I hope you enjoyed this little smau, any feedback or requests would be gratefully received 🥺🥺🥺
 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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harryslittlefreakk · 3 months ago
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just between us
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summary: when y/ns life starts to fall apart, her boss is there to pick up the pieces… behind his wife’s back. nanny reader x ceorry
warnings: cheating, smut (foreplay, soft dom, sex, daddy kink), angst
wordcount: 5.2k
a/n: the plot of this is so loose lol, please don’t read if you want a masterpiece 😭 it was a really fun one to write enjoy <3
*not proofread because i stayed up until 2.30am to write and post this*
thank you so much for reading 🤍 MASTERLIST
You curled your legs up to your chest, the evening breeze doing little to soothe the ache in your chest. The last of the day’s sunshine lingered in pale pinks and oranges amongst the clouds, blurring together as you stared out into the night.
The drink in your hand, a mix of something strong and sweet, was meant to numb the feeling, but it only seemed to deepen your sense of isolation. You raised the glass to your lips, letting your head roll back as the burn slid down your throat, your thoughts going a million miles an hour.
It had been sudden, unexpected. The words still echoed in your mind, as if they were stuck on repeat. How could something that once felt so sure, so safe, suddenly fall apart? You clenched the glass a little tighter, the cool condensation dampening your hand.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the sliding door open or the soft footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until you caught a familiar scent - a mix of woody cologne and something uniquely him - that you realised you weren’t alone.
You turned slightly, rushing to pull the blanket higher over your chest to cover your bikini top. Harry was standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you with the same furrowed brow wore when he knew something was wrong.
“Sorry, Harry. I didn’t think anyone would be home tonight,” you whispered, placing your drink down on the table. The whole family was meant to be away for the week, a trip that not only gave you some time off, but something that was now timed quite well since you had the week to mend your broken heart.
“I had to come back early for a meeting, Anna was meant to call. Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
You shook your head, a forced smile playing on your lips. “No, of course not.”
Harry sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, but not so close that it felt intrusive. He didn’t say anything at first, just sat there in silence, staring out at the fading light. There was something comforting in his presence, in the way he didn’t rush you to talk or try to fill the silence with empty words.
After a moment, he glanced over at your drink and then back at your face. “Rough day?”
Your lips curled into a bitter smirk, your fingers pushing through your hair. “You could say that.”
He nodded, as if he understood exactly what you meant, and maybe he did. Harry had always been good at reading between the lines, at knowing when someone was hurting even when they didn’t want to show it.
You looked over at him, his slacks perfectly creased down the centre, his shirt buttons loosened. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, with his chiseled body and messy brown curls. But he was your boss. You were his son’s nanny, and you’d built a close relationship with his wife. You never allowed yourself to see him that way.
But when he showed so much love and care for you, it became borderline impossible not to blur the lines.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offered, pulling you out of your thoughts. “But if you do, I’m here.”
He scooted closer, leaning his elbows on his knees as if he was incredibly interested in what you had to say. Harry always had a way of making you feel seen, recognising your needs faster than you recognised them in yourself. As a boss and a friend, he was a whole lot more than you bargained for.
Under his gaze, the weight of the day suddenly felt too heavy to carry alone. “Sam broke up with me,” you muttered, not wanting to admit it.
Sam had been the final piece of the puzzle, the last thing that needed to slot into place for your life to be full and worthwhile. The day that he’d proposed to you was the single most important day of your life. He was your everything. Until he’d phoned you earlier that day to tell you that he wasn’t sure that he loved you, and he wasn’t sure he ever would.
Harry didn’t react immediately. He just nodded again, taking in your words. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, his voice sincere.
You shrugged, though the motion felt hollow. “It’s probably for the best,” you whispered, though the pain in your chest told you that you didn’t fully believe that yet.
You finished the rest of your drink, the burn of the alcohol replacing the sting of heartbreak and failure. Your eyes closed, the reality starting to wash over you.
Harry reached out, placing his hand gently over yours on the table. The warmth of his touch was grounding, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to be strong,” he said quietly.
That simple reassurance, the permission to not have it all together, was enough to crack the fragile composure you’d been clinging to. You laced your fingers through his as if you needed the stability, your eyes filling with tears before you could stop yourself. Harry didn’t say anything, just held your hand and let you cry, something steady and comforting in his presence.
When the tears finally slowed, you wiped her eyes with the blanket, feeling a little embarrassed but also lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. “Sorry,” you murmured, your voice still thick with emotion.
Harry squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he replied.
You sat there for a while longer, the silence between you both now filled with some sort of understanding. The sky had darkened, the first stars beginning to twinkle above your heads. You took the last sip of your drink, this time letting the sweetness linger on your tongue, and for the first time that evening, you felt a small spark of hope flicker inside you.
“Another one?” Harry asked, nudging his head towards your empty glass.
You nodded, easing yourself out of the chair on unsteady legs. Whiskey on an empty stomach had your head spinning, but you weren’t sure that was the only reason. You were evil. Despicable, even. Turning your heartbreak into lust for a man that had showed you nothing but kindness, allowed you into his life as more than an employee, a man who’s family was special to you.
But his hand on your knee, the way he brushed away your tears with that gentle touch. You couldn’t think straight, let alone walk straight as you tiptoed into the kitchen.
You opened the whiskey with a pop as Harry’s body came up behind you. His abs rock hard against your skin, his bulge pressing into the small of your back. His arm came beside you, placing your glass on the marble countertop.
“Forgot your glass,” he murmured, making no attempt to step away. You turned against him, his jaw tight as he stared down at you.
You were frozen, doe-eyed and open mouthed as you looked up at him, the dark concern on his face morphed into something more.
“You need to learn how you’re supposed to be treated,” Harry drawled, his forearm slipping behind you and lifting you onto the countertop in one swift motion.
His knee nudged between your legs, opening them up for his body to fit inside. Your head fell back against the cupboard door as he bucked his hips into your core, the fabric between you both just thin enough for you to feel almost everything.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Harry whispered, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip. “Like you’ve wanted this all along.”
The whimper you let out was almost pitiful, a sure sign to Harry that you were losing the battle with your morality. When you wrapped your calf around his waist, tugging him closer to you, he just about lost it.
“Your wi-”, you started, your voice barely a whisper, like you didn’t actually want Harry to hear you. You didn’t want him to think about her, to come back to his senses and realise what he was about to do. But he didn’t even let you finish.
He tugged at the straps of your bikini top, the sudden chill as he exposed you enough to make you fall into silence.
“Doesn’t need to know anything,” Harry finished for you. “If this is want you want.”
You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand to cover the curve of your breast. “It is, Harry.”
A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes still fixed on yours. “Do you need to feel better, princess?”
“Please,” you panted, slipping a finger through his belt buckle, desperate for some relief from the pleasure that was already building up inside you.
“Please what?” Harry whispered, leaning down to press his lips to your nipple, the soft bud immediately warmed by his mouth.
“Please Daddy,” you corrected, the last syllable turning into a long, deep whine when he finally gave you what you wanted.
He pulled your legs tight around his waist, your arms snapping over his shoulders as he lifted you from the counter and carried you upstairs to your bedroom.
Your core was rubbing against the fabric of his shirt with every step, your panties becoming more and more uncomfortable the closer you got to your room.
Harry eased you down to your feet when he reached your bedroom door, your core sliding over his erection.
He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth at the contact, his hands fumbling with the door handle. You pushed it open, letting him guide you to the edge of the bed where Harry nudged you to sit.
He sank to his knees in front of you, his hands immediately finding your knees, tracing circles and patterns up your thighs, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. You leaned back on your hands, panting even before he made an attempt to give you any real pleasure.
His thumb dragged over the wet spot on your bikini bottoms, pressing the fabric against your entrance. The contact made you writhe, your clit aching for more.
When he slipped two fingers under the fabric and pushed them into you, you were completely at his mercy, whining loudly as he immediately found your sweet spot.
You looked down at him through clouded eyes, and that recognised that same, torn look you’d seen flash across his face before. But now you recognised it as a hunger, borderline desperation to have you in a way that would destroy everything he’d worked for.
But you didn’t have time to question it, to fall apart over the way his gaze trailed over your body, the sparkle against the deep green of his irises, because suddenly he was everywhere, his lips warm and insistent against your skin, his free hand groping and roaming anywhere he could reach, his fingers fucking in and out of you with pure determination.
You were his, all his, as Harry leaned down to lick a circle around your clit, before pulling his fingers from you and kissing and licking at you with persistence. His mouth was fast and firm against your core, his moans vibrating around you as he let your juices pool on his tongue.
His nose was nudging against your clit, his hands cupping the curve of your ass to open you up for him. The pleasure had built to a deep ache, spilling out of you in the form of whines and moans, but Harry was unrelenting in his pursuit of your high. He kept licking and sucking, grabbing and groping until you came apart on his tongue, your body going rigid under the strain of such an intense orgasm.
“You need to learn how you’re supposed to be treated, kitten,” Harry murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed over your mound, his lips warm and wet.
You pulled yourself to sit up straight, reaching for his belt buckle with desperation. “Show me, daddy,” you whined, pouting as he pushed your hands away and got to work undressing himself.
He nodded his head towards your pillows, a silent command for you to get yourself ready for him as he pushed his slacks down.
You could see the outline of his erection through his boxers, the material stretched tight over the monster he’d been hiding. You’d expected him to be big, but you weren’t even sure that he would fit inside of you.
You kept your eyes locked on his body as you scooted back, your mouth hanging slightly open. You’d seen him like this before, in his shorts in the pool or topless as he barbecued, but knowing he was undressing for you, to fuck you into complete and utter bliss, you were spiralling.
You wanted him to fuck you everywhere, in every way. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the pool, his cock hitting the back of your throat until you were begging for relief, his mouth and hands touching you until they became one with your flesh.
At some point during your daydream, Harry had fully undressed, his cock dangerously hard as he knelt between your legs.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he drawled, swiping a finger through your slick before bringing it to your lips, his free hand stroking at his length.
You opened your mouth a little wider to let him in, your lips immediately wrapping around his knuckle as your tongue swirled around his fingertip, your nectar sweet on your tastebuds.
The movement elicited a low groan from Harry, his hips bucking into his hand, and without any warning, he was pushing into you with a sharp ache in your walls, his hands planted either side of your head.
Your arms immediately snapped to his shoulders, steadying yourself against him with a gasp, your pussy throbbing as his cock stretched you.
“More, Harry, please,” you whimpered, wrapping your calf around his hips, tugging him impossibly closer to you.
He brushed a stray hair from your face, pulling out of you slightly before easing his way back in, your walls rippling around his tip.
“Say my name again,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.
You opened your mouth as he slammed back into you, his skin slapping against yours as his name left your mouth in a strangled cry.
His hand came around your throat, squeezing just enough to give you that rush of excitement and risk, the pain melding with your pleasure. He was pulling out faster, fucking into you with relentless determination, setting a pace that you had no hope of following. You were putty in his hands, submissive and yielding as he thrust into you.
Your walls were getting tighter, clamping around the strain of his girth as the beginnings of an orgasm started rolling through your core. “I can feel you struggling, princess,” Harry warned, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. He could see in your eyes how much you liked it, how you wanted to lay there and take whatever he gave you. You knocked your hips into his, unable to speak through whimpers and whines, starting to lose control as the tingles spread through your centre, your inner muscles pulsing around his cock.
“Cum for me, milk me like the little cum slut you are,” Harry groaned, leaning down to pull your nipple into his mouth, his tongue warm and desperate as it rolled over the bud.
His cock hitting every inch of you, nudging your g-spot and every other part of your core, your nipple hard between his lips, his hand wrapped around your neck, his body dwarfing you - it was too much to handle, too much to cope with even without his filthy words. You were cumming before you could even think twice, the pleasure rolling over you in waves, reaching every part of your body. Your fingers curled into his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp, collecting his curls in their grasp. Your legs were tight and rigid against his skin, your back arching off of the mattress. You were crying out his name, every inch of you throbbing as your vision blurred into stars and static.
But Harry was still fucking into you, still licking and sucking at your breast, still restricting your air with that big, strong hand, until you felt his cock jerking, twitching against your walls and the ribbons of hot cum painting you, marking you as his. He didn’t slow down until he was empty, everything he had to give dripping from you as he pulled out slowly, until he finally collapsed beside you.
You lay in silence for a while, chests heaving as you panted in sync, before Harry sat up to collect his clothes. It felt dirty, wretched, having him fuck you like that in a room that shared a wall with his sons, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything other than pure bliss.
Even as he picked up his clothes and left the room without saying another word to you, you were on another planet, totally lost in the comedown of the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.
You woke the next morning with a sinking feeling in your stomach, the memory of the previous evening replaying over and over and over. You stared at the ceiling, the weight of what had happened settling in. Harry had kissed her, and she had kissed him back—without hesitation, without thinking about anything else but the moment. Your sheets still smelled like him, your body still aching from the way he’d fucked you.
But the reality hit like a wave, devastation washing over you. Harry was married. You were single, heartbroken, and you’d come close to getting yourself fired and kicked out of your home on top of that. You sat up, pressing your hands to your temples, trying to push away the guilt that had crept in overnight.
You forced yourself out of bed, moving through your morning routine on autopilot. The house was quiet, too quiet, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. You had no idea if Harry was still around or if he’d left early, but you knew you weren’t ready to face him yet. At least no one else would be home, leaving you the chance to figure things out in your own time.
You padded downstairs, the kitchen feeling too bright, too normal for the reality you’d found yourself in. Every sound seemed magnified - the clink of your mug against the counter, the hum of the fridge - while your thoughts raced, a tangle of emotions you couldn’t quite sort out.
Was the night before a way for Harry to cheer you up - just a mistake, a lapse in judgment? Or was it something more, something neither of them could admit out loud? You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung like the humidity in the air.
You were pouring a cup of coffee when the sound of keys in the front door made your stomach drop. You froze, your heart hammering violently against your ribs. Turning slowly, you found Harry standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He hesitated, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, eyes locked on each other.
“Morning,” he finally said, his voice softer than usual.
“Hi, Harry,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut through.
Harry stepped further into the kitchen, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “About last night…” he began, trailing off as if he wasn’t sure how to continue.
You felt your chest tighten. You wanted to say something, to ease the awkwardness between you both, but the words caught in the back of your throat. Instead, you just nodded, fingers gripping the edge of the very counter where this had all started.
“It was-”, Harry paused, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I shouldn’t have…” His voice faltered, guilt flickering across his features.
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Harry, you’re married,” you said quietly, the truth of it hanging in the air between them.
“I know,” he replied, his tone heavy with regret. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You nodded again, feeling like you needed to be anywhere but there. The awkwardness between you felt like a chasm now, one they couldn’t easily bridge. “It’s not just on you,” you admitted. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Harry edged a little closer, only his footsteps and the hum of the coffee machine cutting through the silence. You could tell that the weight of what had happened was pressing down on him. At the realisation, you felt a pang of sadness, a dull ache in her chest that told you things would never be the same between you both. They couldn’t be.
“I think it’s best if we just-” Harry started, then stopped, struggling to find the right words. “If we can try to move past it. Go back to how things were before. But I understand if you’d rather find something else. I have contacts, I can-”
“No, Harry,” you interrupted. “I’d prefer to stay here if I can. If that’s okay.”
You knew he was right, but the idea of pretending nothing had happened felt impossible. Still, your job was important to you, and you didn’t actually have to spend that much time with Harry.
He offered a weak smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll be okay,” he said, more as a reassurance to himself than to you.
But as he left the kitchen, you weren’t so sure. Last night had changed something between you both, something that couldn’t be undone. And as much as you both wanted to pretend otherwise, you both had agreed to continue as you always had, the truth of it would always be there, lingering in the space between you.
You were curled up on the sofa, a soft blanket draped over her legs as you half-watched the movie playing on the TV. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering screen and a nearby lamp. You’d picked a rom-com, hoping it would distract you from the turmoil swirling in your mind.
The whole day had been weird, with Harry working from home but spending significantly more time locked in his office than he usually did. You’d wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to avoid you, but you didn’t even know if he was. Any time you’d crossed paths had lead to strained silences and forced politeness, the easy rapport you once shared miles away.
You sighed, trying to focus on the movie, but the memory of your night together kept intruding. He’d shown you more care and respect than Sam ever had, his hands and that mouth trailing over every part of your body, worshipping you as if you’d been crafted by the Gods.
You pulled your knees closer to your chest, half wishing you could just disappear as Harry appeared in the doorway. His presence filled the room, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual.
“Hi,” you smiled, your heart quickening. You shifted slightly on the sofa, trying to make room, though you weren’t sure if you were ready for another encounter.
“Can I?” Harry asked, gesturing to the spot next to you.
You hesitated, but only for a second, before nodding and patting the sofa to your right.
Harry sat down, leaving a careful distance between them. You both turned your attention to the screen, though the tension in the room was palpable. You could feel the awkwardness settling in, making it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that Harry was inches away from you for the first time that day, and you’d just been fully engrossed in a mental re-enactment of the night before.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned to him, your voice low. “This is weird, isn’t it?”
Harry let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it is. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it less weird, but I’m not sure how.”
You nodded, your eyes drifting over his face.
“I value our working relationship, y/n, the things you do for our family,” Harry told you, reaching out to pause the movie.
You appreciated his honesty, but the reality of the situation still weighed heavily on you. “I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, Harry. You’re my boss, and your family-” you sighed. “It’s just complicated things.”
“I crossed a line, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry for that. But I don’t regret anything,” Harry confessed, something conflicted in his eyes.
You swallowed hard, your words caught in your throat. You couldn’t reply, couldn’t tell him that you didn’t regret it either.
Harry turned back to the movie after a moment, the tension between you both easing up. It wasn’t gone, but the room suddenly felt warmer. He leaned back into the sofa, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same.
He shifted slightly closer, closing some of the distance between you. You noticed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. You let herself relax, resting her head against the back of the sofa as you watched the movie together, side by side. There was an undercurrent between them that neither could ignore, reminiscent of some kind of world where he wasn’t your boss, wasn’t happily married, and could be yours.
You’d felt it even before, every time you were alone in the same room, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over. You could see it in the way Harry looked at you sometimes, his gaze lingering just a bit too long, his voice dropping a little softer whenever he spoke your name. It was there in the moments when your hands would accidentally brush, sending a jolt of electricity through you that you struggled to hide.
You were lost in your thoughts when Harry’s arm brushed against yours. You could feel the heat of him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you, clouding your mind.
Your breath caught in your throat, and when you glanced over, you found Harry looking at you, his face closer than you’d expected. His eyes were intense, searching yours for something you weren’t sure you could give. The moment stretched, the silence between you both heavy with unspoken words.
“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice rough around the edges, as if he were struggling to hold something back.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “We said-”
“I know,” he interrupted, his brow furrowed, voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if you were both trying to make up for the time lost denying what you wanted.
You melted into him, any resolve crumbling under the weight of your own desire. You’d told yourself it couldn’t happen again - wouldn’t happen again - that it was too complicated, too messy, but now, with Harry’s hand cupping your face, his lips moving against yours with an intensity that left her breathless, all those reasons seemed to vanish.
He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as if he couldn’t get enough, and you responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his curls as you gave in to everything you had been trying to push away. It was reckless, dangerous even, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was how right it felt, how much you had needed it, and needed him.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Harry’s hands were still on you, his touch lingering, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.
“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, his voice small. “I know we said we wouldn’t. I don’t know why I-”
“None of this is fair on anyone, Harry,” you whispered, your hand dropping to his shoulder. Your gaze fell to the wall behind you, covered in beautiful family photos. His wedding, nights out, his arms cradling a newborn baby. The reality of the situation loomed over you, a stark reminder that this wasn’t just about what they wanted. “We can’t keep acting like we’re the victims here.”
“I know,” he said, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “But it doesn’t feel like a mistake.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words sink in. You were both standing on the edge of something that could change everything, and once you crossed that line again, there would be no going back.
When you opened your eyes, you found Harry looking at you, his expression a mix of hope and nervousness. It was a look that mirrored your own conflicted feelings, torn between what was right and what you wanted.
“It doesn’t,” you admitted, hating even hearing the words coming out of your mouth. “But where does that leave us?”
Harry was silent for a moment, his gaze steady as he pulled you closer to him. “I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “That’s something we have to figure out.”
The room was still and silent, the gravity of everything you had done settling in. But despite the uncertainty, a small sense of relief bubbled below the surface. You’d crossed a line, yes, but you had done it together. And you were happy to kid yourself that you’d find a way forward, even if it wasn’t clear yet what that path would look like.
For now, you let yourself be held by Harry, allowing yourself to savour the feeling of his strong arms around you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the undeniable truth that something about him felt right.
eeek thank you for reading!!!
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please please i’d like to request a carmy blurb with the dialogue prompt “Don't go on that date” ❤️
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Divine Timing.
carmy berzatto x female reader
warnings - cursing
written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here. inbox here.
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He’s in a bad mood.
Technically, he’s always in a bad mood. But this is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.
He’s screamed at Richie, belittled Marcus and pissed off Tina in the span of approximately five minutes, and everyone is tired. So, they enlist your help.
You speak fluent Carmy, Syd had said once. You’re the only one he listens to.
So, the next time he shouts, you shout back. Louder.
“Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?” he yells bitterly.
“Carmen, if you don’t stop fucking screaming, I’ll smack you so hard in front of everyone - I swear to fucking God.”
You yell back at a volume that shocks even Richie. The Beef stands still, everyone too afraid to move. Carmy is startled, stuck in place.
“We’re taking five,” you tell him, linking your fingers into his. “Come on.”
You drag him outside, sitting him down in his usual spot. You grab a water bottle and throw it at him, raising your eyebrows in a gesture that says drink it or else. He does as he’s told.
You let him wallow in the silence for a while, calming down slowly but surely. You look over, expecting to see him still angry, or frustrated. Instead, he just looks sad.
You move to sit next to him, turning your body so you can see his face clearly.
“What’s the matter, Carm? What’s got you so riled up today, hmm?”
“Nothin’” he replies, kicking his shoe into the ground. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Does matter. You can’t take your feelings out on everyone in the kitchen, you know. It isn’t fair.”
“I know.”
Your phone makes a noise, and you check the screen quickly before shoving it back in your pocket.
“Anyone important?”
“Nah. Just the guy I’m meant to be seeing later, checking in to see if I’m still good.”
Carmy tenses, whole body going rigid beside you. You feel it, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Listen, Carm. If you don’t wanna tell me what’s bothering you, then fine. But you’ve got to work it out in your own time - not in the fucking kitchen. Got it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.
“Don’t go on that date.”
Your head whips around in disbelief.
“What?”
He ducks his head, willing the ground to swallow him whole.
“Don’t go on that date. Please.”
“Is that… is that what’s got you all upset?”
He scoffs and immediately regrets it, looking at you with softness in his eyes that’s rare as diamonds.
“Yeah.”
“Carmen… why?”
He takes a deep breath, gaze never leaving yours.
“It’s been eating me up, the idea of you going out with some guy. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but… I didn’t want it to be awkward, when you didn’t feel the same way. We work together, we see each other every day, and I didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship.”
“So… you took your anger out on everyone else?”
“Yeah, fuck. I didn’t mean to. Think I just bottled up my feelings too much.”
“Who says I don’t feel the same way?”
Carmy chokes on his breath, staring at you in disbelief.
“You… wait- what?”
“Anyone can see that I like you, Carm. I have since the day I met you and you flashed me one of those million dollar smiles of yours.”
He gives you one now, all bright and bashful.
“This is the last time anything like this happens, you hear me? From now on, you talk to me. And I’ll talk to you. It goes both ways.”
He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“Here’s the deal, Berzatto. You go in there and apologise individually to each and every person you’ve been a dick towards today, and I’ll cancel my date with the douchebag I didn’t wanna see anyway.”
“And you’ll date me instead.”
You laugh, head thrown back and eyes crinkling.
“Fine. But only if the apologies are super heartfelt.”
He shakes his head, chuckling from deep within his chest. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he presses a kiss to your temple.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For yelling at me back there. I needed it.”
You smile, leaning into him.
“You’re so welcome.”
“It was super hot, too.”
“Shut up, Berzatto,” you chide, but you can’t fight the grin that etches itself on your face.
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cripplecharacters · 7 months ago
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Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More
[large text: Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More]
As it has been said many times on this blog before, facial differences are a very wide spectrum - there’s thousands of conditions that cause it, and they’re often extremely different from each other! It’s an incredibly diverse category almost by definition. But…
In books, movies, and our inbox, it seems that a traumatic battle scar is the only facial difference that exists. I find this rather frustrating because I would like to see the real life diversity to be actually considered by writers when creating characters - and that’s exactly what this post is for. I hope that by making people just aware of the myriad of options they have, I can help a bit. 
This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t write characters with scars, it’s to say that there’s more for you to consider. Just like not every physically disabled person has hip dysplasia and not every neurodivergent person has epilepsy, not every person with a facial difference has scars! 
Of course, this list isn’t exhaustive - no such list exists, it would be like “list of every disability ever”, it simply can’t be done. This is just a dozen random facial differences that I would like to see incorporated into characters more often!
Facial paralysis Exactly what the name implies. There are many types of facial paralysis - complete, partial, bilateral, unilateral, chronic, acute, and it can affect the whole face, or only part of it.  Sometimes it can cause problems with speech or dry eyes (mostly the latter), but it’s frequently just primarily a visual difference. A person with facial paralysis might be completely unable to make facial expressions at all if it’s severe, or have a lop-sided smile and inability to raise an eyebrow or control an eyelid like me. Causes include cranial nerve damage (especially the 7th nerve, which is called facial palsy), Bell’s palsy, Möbius syndrome, or multiple sclerosis! It can be congenital, like in my case, or acquired, like in most cases - mostly due to stroke. Here I would write something about the current media representation being good, bad, or what tropes to look out for but I don’t know a single character with it. So :-)
Anotia/microtia Microtia is a congenital facial difference that affects the outer ear(s) - as the name implies, they’re smaller than average; anotia means a complete lack of them. This usually will also result in being d/Deaf or hard of hearing in that ear, as the ear canal can be smaller or closed (depending on the “grade”). People with microtia who decide on using hearing aids will usually wear a bone-anchored hearing aid, which looks very differently from the “regular” HA; it’s worn with a headband. Microtia can be the only facial difference that a person has, but it can also be a part of Goldenhar syndrome, Treacher Collins syndrome (mentioned below!), or hemifacial microsomia.
Congenital Trochlear Nerve palsy I have a subtype of this, and because it happens to have the most boring name in existence I have never seen anyone talk about it, certainly not see a character with it. So! CNIV palsy (again, an incredibly catchy name) is a disorder of one of the very-easy-to-damage nerves that allow eyes to move. It causes constant double vision, severe strabismus, and progressive facial asymmetry. A person with CNIV palsy will have a 24/7 head tilt to the side and will have their chin tucked in, which causes said asymmetry - facial features on the side of the tilt will sag down, the eye will “sunk” in, and because it’s congenital, the jaw can grow to be misaligned (like mine!). Over time, it causes neck pain and kyphosis, so add chronic pain to that. Trochlear nerve palsy can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, and even extremely rarely genetic (that’s me! allegedly <1 in a million). However, most acquired cases are only temporary, and “fix themselves” with the passage of time. Again, I would love to write something about CNIV palsy representation, but I’m fairy confident it doesn’t exist : )
Sturge-Weber syndrome The most visible part of SWS - that you might be familiar with - are port wine stains! In this syndrome, they tend to be large and generally cover the forehead-eye area. Around 15% of people with any kind of port wine stain on their face have Sturge-Weber syndrome, and even more when it comes to larger ones. Most people with SWS will have epilepsy since childhood, and many will develop glaucoma (which causes blindness) if the PWS is around that eye. Hemiparesis (one-sided weakness) can also sometimes happen on the opposite side of the PWS. Here is a short article about media representation from a person with SWS!
Cystic Hygroma Also known as lymphangioma, it is a bump that mostly happens on a person’s lower face and/or neck. It’s almost always congenital and a result of a blockage in the lymphatic system (thus lymphangioma). Sometimes, if it affects the mouth or jaw, it may cause a speech disability where the person’s speech might not be fully understandable, or cause an airway obstruction; this generally means that the person has to have a trach tube in their neck to breathe. Here is a short article about living and growing up with cystic hygroma by Atholl Mills!
Congenital melanocytic nevus A complicated name for a specific kind of birthmark! Melanocytic means related to melanin, so it’s a black or brown birthmark that can show up on any part of the body and be of almost any size. Sometimes it can be hairy as well. While CMN doesn’t usually cause any problems, people who have it have a higher risk of skin cancer, epilepsy, and brain tumors. Here is a short article on representation - among other things - by a person with CMN!
Ptosis Ptosis is actually really common - I can almost guarantee that you have seen someone with it - but for some reason it never shows up in media, unless it’s to show that a character is under the influence or vaguely creepy. Ptosis is simply a drooped eyelid. It’s caused by damage to the third cranial nerve, which can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, etc. It’s very common in myasthenia gravis and CHARGE syndrome. In most cases ptosis is a visual thing, but it can sometimes cause problems - for me, it partially obstructs my vision and for some people who acquired it later in life that can cause pain (due to having to constantly lift the eyebrow). Ptosis is often misunderstood, and people tend to make bizarre assumptions about those of us who have it - even Wikipedia cites “looking sinister” as a symptom (not that I particularly trust Wikipedia as a source, but it shows the general public’s view quite well). In real life, we are normal people and all these “drunk/high/rude/evil” associations aren’t true at all.
Treacher Collins syndrome You have probably seen a person with TCS at some point, as it’s not that rare. This is a genetic, congenital disability that affects the development of the face. The bones of the jaw and cheeks are underdeveloped, eyes have a downturned shape, and microtia/anotia is often present as well. A lot of people with Treacher Collins are d/Deaf or hard of hearing. Sometimes, the small jaw might cause problems with breathing, which is why a lot of people with TCS will have a permanent tracheostomy tube in their neck. Similar to ptosis, eyes in TCS are often seen as “looking sad”, but that’s an incorrect assumption - that’s just how they look like. The main and only big representation of TCS in media is that one awful movie from a few years ago, that was literally just inspiration porn featuring an able-bodied actor based on a shitty book, made by an author with some sort of abled-person guilt. Very cool, don’t do that.
Crouzon syndrome Crouzon syndrome is a type of craniosynostosis; a congenital condition where a person’s skull fuses too early. There are other disabilities that can look somewhat similar, like Pfeiffer or Apert syndrome, but they are different!  CS will affect the person's skull - it will be taller than usual, eyes - they will be large and bulging, midface - it's often smaller than average and can look sunk in comparison to the jaw and forehead, and more! Sometimes people with Crouzon syndrome are d/Deaf or hard of hearing (very common with craniofacial differences), or experience long term effects of hydrocephalus, which happens fairly often. Here is a short article by Mikaela Moody about movie representation - and her piece on how it to be trans while having a facial difference, which I relate to a lot and wanted to share:-)
Phthisis bulbi Phthisis bulbi is something that I have mentioned on this blog before, as it logistically should be represented way more often in fiction than it currently is. It's also known as the “end-stage eye” which is a pretty metal name. This is an ocular difference that can result after trauma to the eye. It can also result from a million other things, but trauma is apparently the most common thing to happen to an eye in fiction, so. With phthisis bulbi, the eye shrinks, sinks, and everything inside becomes stiff; this is permanent, and the eye isn't functional anymore - it's blind and unable to move. The only treatment is to have the eye removed, especially if it causes pain. If you're writing a character who got a Hot Sexy Scar over their eye and still has that eye, they probably should have this (and yes, the “shrunk and sunk” part is mandatory, you can't just make the eye lighter and call it a day).
Frontonasal dysplasia Frontonasal dysplasia is a congenital facial difference that affects the structure of the face. While it's a spectrum with a lot of variety, most people with FND will have hypertelorism (eyes spread widely apart), a flat and broad nose, and a cleft going through the middle of the nose. Other facial clefts (not necessarily just cleft lip) are also common. Sometimes, someone with it can also have cranium bifidum (meaning a brain/meninges that protrude through the skull, similar to how spina bifida works), or intellectual disability related to the potential absence of corpus callosum. Rarely, limb differences can also be a part of it; absent tibia, extra toes, or clubfoot. Again, I’m unaware of any representation of FND outside of “scary birth deformity” on medical shows :--)
Parry–Romberg syndrome PRS is also known as progressive hemifacial atrophy, which is a much more descriptive name. It’s an acquired facial difference that people just get for unknown reasons, mostly before the age of 20 and usually between 5 and 15. Generally, PRS is considered to be slowly-progressing, but this can vary pretty widely between different people. As the name implies, it causes atrophy in the face, which affects everything from skin to fat and muscles to sometimes even bones. Some people will also experience skin darkening, alopecia (hair loss), or trigeminal neuralgia (very severe nerve pain) on the atrophied side. The difference between the two sides can be very pronounced, with a visible line between the halves showing up on the forehead. Again, no existing rep that I know of :-)
And as always, I recommend this short PDF that in my opinion any writer who wants to include a character with an FD has to read. Additionally, you can also check our #face difference tag, this primer on facial difference, or this piece on making sure you’re not contributing to disfiguremisia.
Also apologies for the amount of “idk what to say about already existing rep because it literally doesn’t exist afaik” but I hope it illustrates the problem :-)
Happy Face Equality Week!
mod Sasza
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kettlefire · 1 year ago
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Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea
Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:
Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.
Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.
A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.
Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.
Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.
"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."
Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.
Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.
"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."
Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.
"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."
There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.
"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."
Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.
"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."
Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.
"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."
Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.
"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."
Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.
"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."
The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.
"Da... We... Help... They..."
Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.
"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."
Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.
"... I love you, Danny..."
Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.
It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.
Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.
That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.
And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.
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miupow · 4 months ago
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hiii! how do you think txt would be like if their partner were a kpop idol aswell? and would they like their partner being an idol? 🫶🫶
-⭐️
♯ AND IF WE PUT THIS TO BED // THE INTERNET WILL GO CRAZY .ᐟ ★ ꒰ txt꒱
✦ ── AKA ; TXT WITH AN IDOL GF !
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╭♡ pairing 〃ot5 x fem!reader .ᐟ genre 〃fluff, slight angst . idol!reader warnings ◠ ﹐〃secret relationships , hate/harassment mention , food/eating mention .
♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱
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𝕾OOBIN ★
would be so nervous about everyone finding out that would totally give it away. just an absolute nervous wreck whenever you’re anywhere near him !
even just hearing your name makes his ears go pink ! stuttering through whatever he was going to say while trying to play it off totally cool
he gets better at hiding it because he just starts avoiding you lol you don’t really mind it all that much because soobin is just so sweet !
literally the best stage boyfriend ever ! always gushing about your performances n hyping you up !! went to one of your concerts once and got totally found out lol
loves physical affection and hates that he can never show any to you in public :( hands always twitching to hold yours :( makes it up by being all up in your personal space when you’re alone tho!!
you’re the one who takes all of those boyfriend photos he posts on instagram! and he is the one who takes all of the pictures you post on yours <3
thousands of youtube compilations of soobin acting all shy around you, eyeing you up, getting blushy !! he is really so obvious it’s so endearing. basically everyone already knew you were together before you were together iykwim
will do absolutely anything he can to keep you from facing any harassment or hate for being with him . always concerned about your safety both off and on tour. always asking if you’ve ate well, if you’re well rested, if you’ve hurt yourself on stage. hes a little bit of a helicopter boyfriend but you kind of love it
always telling you to eat more or rest but never listens to his own advice :( overworks himself half to death but would go scorched earth if you ever burnt yourself out
𝖄EONJUN ★
king of the suspicious matching instagram posts. always stalking the internet to see if anyone makes the connections (they always do and he eats it up) your insta feeds are just date pics but no one needs to know that other than him and you!
always getting cute matching keychains, phone cases, bracelets, anything he can get away with!! it’s like letting everyone know you’re his without him ever saying anything !!
simultaneously the best and the worst at hiding your relationship from the public
the best because he can act cool around you no problem, won’t ever say or do anything out of line. no one would think you even talk all that often with how he keeps things so cool and collected. honestly you’re the one that’s slipping sometimes
the worst because he wants everyone to know so badly even though he knows he can’t!! especially finds it so hard to keep his hands to himself!! he just loves holding you and having you close to him.. he’s obsessed with dropping tiny hints , just enough to get people talking… start some rumors lol
always taking photos he won’t ever post. of you and him together, out on dates or spending time together in his dorm. you all pretty and barefaced snuggled against his chest . he cherishes them but he won’t ever let another soul see them
such powercouple energy once you’re out and open about being together !!! always spotted everywhere together lol now that he doesn’t have to hide you he can show you off! his socials become essentially your fansites
such a whirlwind romance with him always. sweeps you off of your feet and has you doing things you would never do in a million years!! kiss him in this hotel pool, no one’s gonna notice ! but you’re so in love it’s sickening .. and you don’t mind being risky when it’s with him
just so utterly devoted to you <3 you are his everything and he’ll give you his heart and his credit card to prove it lol
𝕭EOMGYU ★
beomgyu’s been pursuing you for years, actually. since you were trainees, even. you finally agreed to be his girlfriend just recently lol
hates that he can’t let the world know that you’re in love :( hates having to hide how obsessed he is with you !!
which makes him terrible at being secretive !! constantly eyeballing you at events, getting all blushy and goofy when you interact on stage or on camera. likes he’s so infatuated with you and it’s like disgusting to look at
would do some risky shit like start a live with you in the hotel room with him off screen ! post suspicious pictures on his instagram. film a dance challenge on tiktok like your company made you do it
he loves the thrill of keeping things hidden, possibly getting caught. seeing how much he can get away with ! he just finds it all so fun !
always texting you throughout the day to make you giggle, no matter how busy the two of you were ! voicenotes of him talking in his sleepy low timbre, late at night or early in the morning, or of him playing the guitar !! facetimes you every night before you go to bed, regardless of what time it was for him ><
when your schedules inevitably get in the way he is always flexible and quick to make it up to you ! he always makes sure to give you all of his attention whenever he can, because maybe you’re a bit of a spoiled princess (he made you that way)
someone else seeing him kissing you out in public is what ultimately does him in lol he just can’t keep his hands off of you !!
doesn’t really care about what anyone else says or thinks about the two of you being together !! true moas would support you and he just loves being able to show you off !!!
𝕿AEHYUN ★
would be very serious about keeping your relationship a secret. he’s seen horrible things happen to other idols who have had their relationships revealed and he doesn’t want anything like that to happen to you— or him and his bandmates.
absolutely the best at hiding in public. even standing near eachother on a music show no one would know a thing.
though he gets kind of quiet when you’re mentioned or when you’re around. almost like he gets shy hehe
i can see him falling for an older and more experienced idol, always talking to you so formally and respectfully, always call you noona :3
a sweet and passionate lover when away from prying eyes <3 does absolutely everything he can to set aside time to be with you, date you out on secretive little dates ^^
calls you twice a day every day while you’re both away on tour, even packed with your busy schedules. gets mopey if you don’t tell him you love him before you hang up :(
likes getting you jewelry or accessories you can wear in videos and on stage ! nothing too obvious, little necklaces and bracelets, rings he can see when you wave your hands <3 it makes him feel like he’s showing you off without showing you off iykwim
he would want to admit it if there were any suspicions or if you were found out. half because he didn’t want to lie to moa and half because finally letting the world know you were his doesn’t sound all that bad ><
but if he wasn’t ever found out he would have kept it a secret for a long, long time, until he was sure it was the best possible time to open up. he’ll make sure he’ll make it up to you for all of those years though,,,
𝕳UENING 𝕶AI ★
also incredibly serious about keeping the relationship a secret. he just wants to be safe, especially when you were both at the height of your careers…
which is funny because he’s the absolute WORST at hiding his feelings for you!! cannot act right when he’s anywhere around you and trying to keep that professional idol persona..
doesn’t like going out where others could potentially see you together, prefers to stay inside with you playing video games or watching movies. just resting from your hark work and spending time with you <3 naps with you are his favorite especially
brings the plushie you gifted him early in your relationship everywhere he goes. he can’t sleep without it if you aren’t in your arms yourself !!
let’s you borrow his big sweaters and hoodies, gets all nervous and giggly when he sees you on a live or something wearing his clothes!! will someone notice?? but he can’t help but like it deep down ! you look so cute in his clothes :(
gushes about you to his sisters constantly . they find it cute and annoying at the same time.
loves hearing your voice over the phone or on facetime while you’re away from eachother. squeezes in the chance to call you whenever he possibly can ! the type of bf to fall asleep with you on the phone <3
just so sugar sweet :’( always going on and on about how beautiful and talented and amazing you are.. and he gets all squirmy when you compliment him back !! his kisses are always so gentle and loving— you love sneaking kisses backstage at music shows to see your lipstick leave stains on his mouth!!
would panic and freak out if you and him were ever found out, convinced the absolute worst was going to happen.. but then pleasantly surprised when the worst doesn’t happen. maybe he can make this work..
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
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Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?
THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)
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"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"
"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?
the answer is, unfortunately, no.
"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"
"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.
you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.
"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.
"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"
"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"
"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.
"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."
"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"
"hmm?"
"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.
"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.
"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"
"yes, katsuki?"
"please get this man the fuck out of our house."
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dirtyvulture · 8 months ago
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Envy and Venom
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4190
AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)
DAY 1
“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 
“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 
“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 
Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 
“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”
***********************************************************************
Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 
The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 
“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.
“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.
“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”
“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  
“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”
“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 
Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 
You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.
“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”
“I bet.”
“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).
“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”
You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”
***********************************************************************
You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.
“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.
“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.
“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”
“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 
“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”
“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 
Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 
“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 
“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”
“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.
“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”
“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.
***********************************************************************
Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 
You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 
“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”
Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   
You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  
“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 
“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”
It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 
She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 
“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 
“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 
She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”
Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 
“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.
You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”
“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 
“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.
“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 
“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 
“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.
“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.
Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 
“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 
“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.
You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 
“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.
Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.
“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 
She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.
“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.
“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.
Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.
There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.
***********************************************************************
The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.
You were too easy.
When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.
As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.
After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.
Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.
***********************************************************************
DAY 2
When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.
From Tony: You fucked up, dude.
He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Everything clicks to you now.
“Oh, fuck.”
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AN: Click here for Part 2!
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