#I laughed so hard at this - like a solid laugh for about ten minutes - no joke 👏

[sttoru]

A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !

ෆ sypnosis. shiu kong catches toji and you in the living room. toji decides to invite shiu into the fun and he agrees after some deep thinking.

ෆ note. this is a part two to this post ! make sure to read that one first. &&i’m happy u all enjoyed the first part ehhh.. i tried my best w this one too, enjoy. also not entirely proof read so excuse the possible mistakes. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. dom!toji (+shiu) x female reader. three some, blowjob, breast play, objectification, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), cum play, free use, dacryphilia, creampies, male masturbation, voyeurism-ish, multiple orgasms, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, doggy style, breeding mention. toji’s mean, shiu a bit less.

“fine, but we have ten minutes.”

shiu kong crosses the room in a couple strides, hands skilfully removing piece after piece of his clothing until he was left in nothing. you couldn’t quite figure out the unreadable expression on shiu’s face once he came close enough to toji and you on the leather couch.

it was impossible to do so through your tears. plus, due to the man on top of your body guiding your head back to look him in the eyes.

“just because he’s joining doesn’t mean y’re allowed to take those eyes off of me.” if toji wasn’t just a fling, you could’ve sworn that those words were said out of jealousy or possessiveness. even if he was the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.

toji hisses and grunts as he pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in twice as hard. your screams of pleasure were like music to his ear. and not only to toji’s ears; shiu was having a hard time holding his usual calm self together every time he hears your sensual moans.

“shit..” shiu curses under his breath, his demeanour slowly falling apart because of the sight in front of him. but, also because he secretly desires to be the one getting those reactions out of your mouth, “she’s quite noisy, eh?”

toji laughs a bit; a mean (almost condescending) laugh, “yeah— maybe we can see which one of us can make her even noiser, whadd’ya think?”

“..or ya can just make her shut up by stuffing that mouth full. your choice.”

your hands were trembling as they try to hold onto any solid object you could spot out of your peripheral vision. your tears withheld you from seeing toji’s agent masturbating; shiu’s rough hand was swiftly gliding up and down on his cock—coating it with his own pre-cum. if it wasn’t for his desire to dump his cum in any of your holes, he’d have released it all over his own hand already.

“i think i’ll put that mouth of hers to use.” shiu had lost the internal battle of keeping himself together as he walked closer to you, standing near your head and gently tapping the tip of his cock on your plump lips, “you know, toji’s told me you’re good at sucking men off and i’ve always wanted to test that claim myself.”

your eyes slightly widen in response, unable to comprehend anything in this situation you got yourself in. neither toji nor shiu cared about that; they just cared about the pleasure you were going to be giving them.

“c’mon,” toji grins and pulls out of you completely, looking down at his throbbing cock which was covered in your fluids before flipping you around on your stomach, “y’re gonna be a good little slut and suck that man off, yeah?”

shiu takes notice of toji’s action and immediately gets into position like the two have done this many times before with other women. the agent takes a seat in front of you, legs spread to give you a nice view of what he was packing between them. shiu’s back was resting against the armrest as his eyes were scanning your face from up close, “what a pretty girl.”

your mouth was watering more than it did previously, drops of saliva running down your chin as you stared at shiu’s cock in front of you. a harsh slap to your ass makes you squeal lightly and your pussy clench onto nothingness.

“i said something, didn’t i?” toji clicks his tongue while he checks out your ass in his position behind you, “get to work.”

your hands found their way to shiu’s thighs and they slid up until they were wrapped around the base of his cock. an almost unnoticeable grunt left shiu’s lips once he felt that jolt of pleasure run through his body from your simple touch. he had waited so long for this.

“fuck— take me in your mouth.” the older man breathlessly orders. you swallow the built-up saliva in the back of your throat and stick your tongue out to lick the tip of shiu’s dick— testing the waters first. as expected, shiu was easy to please since the man was already moaning and breathing heavy when you hadn’t even started yet.

toji looks down at the two and sees how you tease shiu by using your tongue. shiu was trembling a little, biting his bottom lip while one of his hands was tangled in your hair. the agent was trying very hard not to reach his climax already. not when he hasn’t felt your mouth around his cock at least once.

a smirk forms on toji’s lips as he sees the desperation and lust written all over shiu’s face. toji knew that you were good at giving blow jobs; the little teasing you did beforehand—where you’d hold eye contact with him while licking his length in small intervals—added to the entire experience.

“seems like you haven’t had any action in a while, huh?” toji grins while pumping his cock at the sight of you finally starting to suck shiu off. his hand moved in slow strokes, the other placed on your ass, prepared to slap it if you were caught slacking off.

“shut up, toji— shit!” shiu gasps and throws his head back once your mouth engulfs the fat tip of his dick. the warmth and wetness around his throbbing cock was driving him mad, “if i wasn’t too busy cleaning after your mess, i’d have a woman in my bedroom every day of the week.”

you held eye contact with shiu as he makes small talk with toji whom you couldn’t even see. you start bobbing your head in repeated up and down motions, his cock going in and out of your warm mouth, leaving it completely covered with your saliva in no time.

“fuckkk— she’s good.” shiu groans while his hand tugged at your hair, pressing down on your head to hit the back of your throat—the tip of your nose just a centimetre away from his lower abdomen, “way better than expected.”

that gains a small proud chuckle from toji. the assassin was starting to move, lining up his still hard cock against your entrance, “told ya. she sucks cock like a real fuckin’ slut—always knows what to do.”

shiu fully believes those uttered words as he sees you desperately suck him off, hands playing with his balls and sometimes stroking the rest of his length which you couldn’t fit in your mouth. your tears and drool were dripping down between his legs.

a muffled moan vibrates against shiu’s dick the moment you felt toji bully his way into your cunt again. this causes shiu to thrust his hips forward, making you almost choke at the unexpected movement.

“mhh, that’s hot.” shiu breaths out while holding onto your hair with both hands now, ready to repeat his actions since it added to his own pleasure, “do it again, come on—yeahhh— good girl.”

as you choke and slobber all over shiu’s length, toji starts to roughly pump back and forth, hands on your hips to keep your lower body up to meet his— “your cunt is so fuckin’ tight compared to before—fuck— bet it’s ‘cause you’re a slut who enjoys getting both her holes filled at the same time.”

toji smacks your ass a couple of times as his cock penetrates your cunt to its deepest point, “maybe we can fill a third one soon, don’cha think?”

yes, he was implying what you were thinking; anal sex. the nasty thought made you whimper and squirm under toji while continuing to move shiu’s cock in and out of your wet mouth in rapid strokes. shiu reacts to this by bucking his hips up again and again, moaning and grunting loudly, as was toji.

shiu looked down at you through his half closed eyes, enjoying the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. especially because you were crying as well; it made you look pathetic and helpless yet so attractive.

“fuck— with the way you’re sucking me off, i’m going to cum soon,” shiu says between shallow breaths, seeing your body powerlessly shift back and forth due to toji’s intense thrusts, “mhm— better swallow it all, okay?”

you let out a long, strangled moan. it wasn’t clear whether it was due to toji pounding you or shiu asking you that lewd favour. either way, shiu bucked his hips up one last time, hands clenching around your hair to push your head down all the way to the base of his cock before spurting his hot cum right down your throat—the taste bitter on your tongue.

“swallow,” the older man in front of you reminds you with a hoarse voice, keeping his dick between your lips to make sure you do as told before gradually taking it out with a hiss.

shiu taps the tip on your mouth a little to get the last drops of semen on your lips for you to lick off. toji’s agent started to lazily stroke his dick again, trying to make it hard so he could fuck you as well.

“mhh, want to cum in your pussy. maybe even breed you, huh?” shiu murmurs. his words were solely meant to fuel his desires and get his cock hard again, yet the thought could easily be made a reality.

toji groans as he hears his agent’s dirty talk about breeding you. this causes him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back while he angled his hips in a way to hit your cervix repeatedly.

“fuck, i might even let him do that to ya—let him dump his load into your pussy along with mine.” toji grins, feeling like his cock was swelling even more with each deep thrust, “how ‘bout we try that out?”

shiu takes the chance to watch your tits again as they come into view. his body was relaxing against the armrest of the trembling couch, one hand reaching out to cup a breast and squeeze the hardened nipple.

“ah! yes, y-yes, wan’ both of your cum inside me, please.” you plead and your back arches from all the sensations the two men were granting you in this moment. toji groans loudly at your words, feeling even more turned on than ever and he makes that known.

“yeah? fuck— y’re such a desperate, greedy whore.” toji mocks and continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. shiu was still squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples, going from one to the other,

“just hold on, little girl— gonna stuff you full first.” toji adds and thrusts a couple more times before you sense that familiar feeling again; toji’s cum flooding your insides until it can’t help but leak onto your thighs.

with a deep sigh, toji pulls out again to watch the white liquid overflow from your filled hole. shiu, in the meantime, was still admiring your tits and now used both hands to play with them.

you were too fucked out to see the way the two men were silently exchanging glances. toji nodded downwards at his place behind you and shiu understood: the two were changing places.

shiu let your breasts go and stood up, toji following afterwards. the assassin and his agent slowly swapped positions and stroked their cocks at the sight of your spent body, quivering and silently sobbing from overstimulation.

“mind if i borrow her from now on, toji? just from time to time.” shiu asks with a deep hum, enjoying the sight of toji’s cum leaking out of your hole and the way it stained your skin as the sticky fluid left trails down your thighs.

toji snickers as he was getting his cock hard again by looking at your tits and head between his legs,

“nah, i don’t mind. as long as she returns to me at the end of the day.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji fushiguro

[charliemwrites]

Since I’ve been going pretty hard on dark fics lately….

Who’s up for some childhood friend Simon?

In his worst moments, when he thinks of his inevitable premature and violent end, he hopes that he’ll be able to hold out long enough to die in your arms. Even if they have to fly him straight from the battlegrounds to you, lay him in the grass outside your flat, he wants your face and voice that puts him to his final sleep.

Most moments aren’t his worst moments. But he still thinks of you and prepares. Everything is going to you, of course. Price knows. You’ll get Simon’s tags, his mask, a flag. You’ll get a letter.

He started one night after you two reunited, a little drunk from a thank-fuck-we-survived post mission celebration. It’s a little wobbly and ramble in some places, but never threw it out - never reread it either. Finished it in one hour, three pages long.

He’s added onto it since then. On hard night, nights he misses you. When he’s nostalgic and tipsy, when he wakes up from nightmares soaked in your blood. It’s about 12 pages now. Different colors of ink, different types of pages. Even one slanted and awkward because his writing hand was broken so he had to use the other.

He doesn’t bring it home to you with him. Doesn’t want you to accidentally discover it and think it’s something else. It stays where Johnny will find it if the worst happens; Simon trusts him to give it to you.

He never really thought about it the other way round. Couldn’t stand to face the prospect again. Not when he can feel the bullet scar beneath your shirt sometimes, or sees you rubbing at it in cold weather.

(He doesn’t consider it his worst moments but he knows you would - that he’d crawl in that grave with you.)

But it’s almost happened again. You’re sitting caddy-corner to him at a briefing table, listening to Price as he explains the situation. Simon’s watching you watching Price. Your shoulders are relaxed, fingers fiddling with your temporary access card. Not nervous, just occupied while you focus.

You’re not worried at all. Simon feels like he’s falling apart right here. One shake of the stupid uneven table and all his pieces will just slide apart into a useless pile.

Without looking away, your hand slides across the table and hooks around his. He doesnt startle - he’s ghost right now, and ghost is rock solid - but his fingers twitch around yours. You shoot him a quick smile and then refocus on Price, picking at a worn patch on the skeleton design of Simon’s glove.

Duct tape for a collapsing soul.

Price concludes, “You’ll stay here, safe and sound with an escort.”

Simon speaks up for the first time in what feels like days.

“I’m not bein’ deployed, skipper. Not right now.”

Price snorts. “‘Course not. You’re on leave with little miss here in sweden.”

“Sweden,” Simon repeats, unimpressed. Not one of the Laswell’s better lies.

“Land of tall blondes,” you chime.

“No one else knows I’m a blond.”

You shrug. “Their loss.”

Simon snorts, you grin, and Price dismisses you both in short order.

You’re staying in Simon’s room; the captain didn’t even offer you temporary quarters. Not that you minded, happy to toss your things amongst his and climb into his bed.

He cleans his favorite gun impulsively at the desk while you futz around on his computer - probably investigating the latest set of unreleased movies he bribed from Laswell.

“You get ten minutes of brooding left and then we’re getting food and watching a movie.”

He scowls down at the magazine, oiled cloth in hand.

“I’m not brooding.”

“It’s like you have your own lighting. I swear those shadows are darker next to you.”

“That’s just how light works.”

“Oh it would have been so much cooler if you said, like, ‘I am the shadows’.”

He pauses, casts you a long, flat look. You beam.

“Ooh, yeah, with that face too! C’mon, say it!”

He blows out a dramatic breath, then grumpily repeats, “I am the shadows.”

You laugh, hopping up from the bed to approach. He shifts his gear out of the way, clearing a space for you to lean against his desk, your knee touching his.

“Im alright, Si. There’s nowhere safer I could be.”

He sets the pieces in his hands aside, flexes his fingers spasmodically.

“Could just not know me. Anywhere would be safer than knowing me.”

You click your tongue, purely derisive. “That’s stupid.”

“That’s just facts, babes.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s your guilt complex. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here.”

He arches his eyebrows - not that you’ll be able to see it past the mask. But you know him well enough to just know.

“Right here?” he challenges. “On a military base? With who fuckin’ knows out to get you? Just because you lived two doors down from me in kindergarten?”

You sigh, that one that tells him you’re employing extra patience purely out of love and experience.

“Right here, Si. Wherever you are,” you confirm.

“Should cut your losses,” he says, trying his best impression of the machine he became after he lost everyone but you. He’s never felt less protected in the mask.

As always, you see right through him.

“A bullet couldn’t take me from you, Simon Riley. The ‘Ghost’ doesn’t stand a chance.” You curl your fingers around the back of his neck, duck down until your forehead knocks against the hard mask’s. “Because it’s me n’ you ‘til the sun stops rising.”

An oath made of picked daisies and shared blood. The weight of it presses on his chest so hard he feels buried again. Layers of earth crushing him, you up above, the only heaven he knows or needs.

“Me ‘n you,” he rasps.

You let him stay like that another moment. Absorbing the warmth of your fingertips, crept beneath the edge of the balaclava. Breathing with you until he’s sure you’re synched. Heart, breath, blood, down to the firing of your neurons.

“Alright, no more brooding. You’ll feel better with some food.”

Simon exhales, sloughing off the gloom and pessimism that weighs on Ghost’s shoulders. You’re here, right here. Nothing will happen to you when he’s still breathing.

“Think I have a few more minutes.”

“Nah, it compounds when I brood with you.”

“You brood like a rainbow broods.”

You snort and flick at his mask, tugging him up with you towards the door. He lets himself settle, listening to your cheerful babble all the way to the mess.

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #childhood friend simon

[drunktuesdays]

i (bisexual) went on a roadtrip with friends (2 women married to each other) and went up through canada to see paul gross do lear (he ruled). and before the show, we went to dinner with a friend who was ALSO going to king lear. she brought her wife, and the five of us were a little giddy with the joy of being on vacation to do something silly, but also the delight of seeing someone you hadn't seen in ten years. and we got to talking about fandoms past, and this friend mentioned that she met her wife in smallville fandom, because they both found tom welling attractive. which is so funny for tom welling's attractiveness to be a solid rock to build a lasting relationship on, but it could be worse. anyway, so right after she says that, a table of octogenarians next to us get up and ostentatiously move across the pub to the other side. and we notice this but don't quite understand, until five different wait staff come over to be like "y'all being so rowdy, you're chasing people away?" in a very friendly teasing way that makes it clear we're fine. and we're laughing because it's like, sorry, was that tom wellings's grandparents? those people are so fucking disgusted because we were mocking the idea of being attracted to tom welling? "he's too conventionally pretty. a try-hard," we imagined them saying disgustedly to each other. and then my friend's wife gently was like "i sort of think it was probably the part where two women fell in love," and we were stunned. it's like the table of queer people got so caught up in the comedy of hating tom welling that for a minute, we straight up forgot homophobia exists.

[roosterbruiser]

idk if you’re still taking requests, but i would love somethin about hangman and his wifey getting caught by their teenage kid in the middle of sex and then getting absolutely grilled about it later because we all know they have jake’s sense of humor

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

you're both smarter than this. Really, you are. You both know better than to get busy in the kitchen on a Sunday morning.

but in your slight defense...your husband is Jake fucking Seresin. Not only that, but his beard is starting to get delicious gray hairs and he's letting it grow out just enough to make the delicate skin of your thighs clench.

plus, your son usually doesn't wake up early. he would wake up at noon if you let him.

so, against your better judgement, you let your husband bend you over the nice marble countertops you picked out a few years ago.

it's very romantic for a solid ten minutes. drenched in the early light of the morning, the scene is actually quite peaceful. the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, your husband is whispering your name like a goddamn prayer as he brings his hips against yours fluidly, and there's an old Carole King record spinning lazily in the living room.

you're so lost in each other, gasping quietly and muttering your affection for each other as he buries himself inside you just right, that you don't hear your son's thunderous steps down the stairs or when he calls out for you guys.

no, no...it isn't until your son genuinely screeches that the two of you look up and catch those wide green eyes filled with absolutely terror.

then of course it's you and Jake scrambling to get decent, trying hard to not traumatize your son even further, both of you blushing and stuttering excuses.

and then it's you and Jake looking at your son as he goes through all five stages of grief in mere minutes.

it may be early in the morning, but he is sure as Hell wide awake now.

"family meeting. now," your son says with all the authority of a parental figure, pointing to the living room.

and for some reason, you and Jake blindly follow him in there and take a seat on the sofa. you two have never been caught by your son--you feel a little out of your element.

you and Jake sit at opposite ends of the couch like awkward teenagers caught by their parents. your son paces before the two of you, hands clasped behind his back. for a fifteen-year-old boy, he could actually come across as much older. he was broad and tall like your husband, with an identical wit.

"what am I going to do with the two of you?" your son mutters disappointedly.

"we were just--!"

your son cuts you off with one sweeping motion of his hand, holding his palm up to you and turning his cheek. your cheeks grow red.

"oh, I know what you were just doing," he says. "don't worry, I won't forget it. neither will the therapist you're gonna pay for."

you purse your lips. Jake is shaking his head softly.

your son resumes his painting.

"and, really, I hate that I even have to say this, but--were you two being...safe?"

Jake breaks out in laughter and you gasp, furrowing your brows at your son who stares back at you incredulously.

"August Seresin," you reprimand, tutting.

he throws his arms up defensively.

"what?! it's a valid question to ask! you really want another me running around here? yeah, no thanks!"

that's when you finally break down laughing, too. you can't help it. it's an unfortunate situation, one you can honestly say has been one of your most embarrassing moments. but the three of you laughing about it makes the knot in your throat lessen.

"well, that oughta teach you to knock," Jake says with a smirk.

August glares at him.

"it's the kitchen! what, am I gonna have to knock before entering every room in the house?"

"well, unless you want a repeat of this morning, then yes," Jake sighs with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

your son is turning green.

"is there any safe space in this house? my bedroom?" your son looks near tears at this point.

your husband is only teasing--you know this. but August sure doesn't. you're fairly certain August is about to crumble to the floor.

"is nothing sacred?!"

"just your mama's smokin' hot bod--!"

"NO!" August firmly presses his palms over his ears and shakes his head. "I CAN'T COME BACK FROM THAT!"

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

#hangman?? more like hang that man's penis...in my mouth #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman angst #hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman imagine #top gun maverick hangman #jake hangman fic #hangman fluff #hangman x y/n #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin headcanon #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin imagine #hangman seresin fic

[just-jordie-things]

idk if your requests are open so i’m sorry if they’re not :( but i really really need some comfort rn so if it’s not to hard could you write jjk men comforting reader who’s just had an all around shitty day? idc who else is in it, but i really like yuta and megumi:)) -🌿

I'm always down for some blurbs! hope it gives ya some comfort nonnie <3

OKKOTSU YUUTA

okkotsu finds you sitting alone during your free period. at first very excited to approach you and ask to join, because he rarely got to spend one on one time with you. you mostly only spent time together as a group with the other second years, so this could finally be his chance to, i don't know, woo you?

but upon nearing you, he realizes that you're quietly crying to yourself, and now his excitement is replaced with concern.

"(y/n)?"

as soon as you noticed him there, you're quick to wipe your tears and plaster on a friendly smile.

"oh- hi," you chuckle nervously, and hope he hadn't seen you crying for the last ten minutes. "sorry, i didn't see you there"

"are you okay?" he asks, sitting beside you and staring at you in a way that made you embarrassed to have been caught.

"yeah, i just- yeah," you stammer, unsure of what to say, as you didn't want to bother him. "don't worry about it, i'm fine" you decide, giving him another smile that he could see right through.

"you're crying," yuuta frowns. "do you want to talk about it?"

your mouth opens, and then closes, still unsure if you should dump your issues onto him. you weren't usually one to vent to your friends, everyone had their own problems going on, it was just the way of life in this society, but yuuta seemed so genuinely concerned it would make your heart hurt to turn him away.

"you sure?" you ask quietly.

he laughs, genuinely laughs, with a smile and crinkled eyes, like you'd just told a silly joke and hadn't asked for his consent to vent your issues. you seem confused by this, which only makes him continue to chuckle as her speaks.

"of course i'm sure," he says, reaching out to brush away a stray tear you'd missed. your cheeks heat up. "we're friends, right? friends talk to each other when they're upset,"

the way your heart skipped a beat at his mere concern for your feelings didn't seem like he was just a friend to you, but you decided you could circle back to that later.

"or, if you'd rather, we could go on a snack run and watch a movie, if you just want to forget about it" he offered politely.

this time, you gave him a real smile, and it finally felt like you weren't going to burst into tears again.

"we could do both?" you suggested quietly, and yuuta grinned ear to ear. ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you weren't sure how long you'd been crying, but it was long enough that it was no longer just a cry, but definitely a full on breakdown.

which, you were a person in tune with your emotions, so when you felt like you needed to let it all out in a healthy way, you would.

but today wasn't one of those days. today was a terrible day. and it had come out of nowhere. so instead of doing any of your homework or anything to distract your mind, you'd collapsed into bed and let your emotions completely engulf you.

it's not until your phone is ringing that you even wonder how long you'd been smearing wet makeup into your pillows.

you want to take the thing and chuck it against the wall, silencing it forever, but when you see it's megumi calling you go against your better judgement.

megumi was a solid texter, like most of your generation, he hated phone calls. he would actively decline calls just to text the caller and ask what it was they needed, firmly believing there was nothing you could say in a call that couldn't be texted.

so seeing his name lighting up your screen, you figured it must have been important. sniffling and clearing your throat to hide your strained voice, you answered.

"hey, 'gumi"

"hey sweetheart," he greets, and you can hear his smile through the phone, somehow. it brightens your mood in the slightest. "you still studyin'?"

"uh," you pause, glancing over to your bag of textbooks that sat on your floor, unmoved from when you'd thrown it to the ground before falling into bed. "no"

despite you trying your best to mask your emotions, your voice cracks on the single word, and megumi being who he is, picks up on it right away.

"you alright?" he asks without missing a beat.

in the two years he'd known you, he'd never heard or seen you cry. not even after everything you'd been through together. so hearing your voice strain and crack lights up an instinct in him to protect. to fix.

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat, hoping to feign ignorance, as though your mouth had just played a trick on you and made ou fumble your words. "what were you calling for-?"

"sounds like you've been crying," megumi cuts off the bullshit and questions her again. "what's goin' on? did something happen?"

your eyes betray you, welling with tears as megumi's concern for your well being becomes evident.

"it's nothing, i'm fine"

"you're a terrible liar, sweetheart," megumi sighs, and so do you. "what happened?"

you fall back onto your bed again, biting your lip to keep any other broken sounds from escaping you.

"nothing, really," you say through a heavy breath. "don't worry 'bout it"

just as you start to melt into the comfort of your blankets, there's a knock on your door. you lift your head at the sound, but then choose to ignore it.

"don't worry about it?" megumi repeats with a small scoff. "course i'm gonna worry about it. did someone say something? do something?"

tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to send you into another sobbing fit.

"don't wanna bother you" you mumble out your lame excuse. megumi scoffs again on the other end of the line.

another knock sounds at your door.

"you could never bother me, sweetheart," he says honestly.

your heart melts at how sweet he could sound sometimes. you wonder if he even knows that he's talking like a romantic, or if that's just how he's grown to speak to you.

"now come get the door, i look like an idiot out here"

you're quick to sit up again, sliding off the bed and crossing the room to slide your door open.

sure enough, there's megumi, with his phone to his ear and a small smile on his face. he ends your call and tucks his phone into his pocket, before reaching his arms out and pulling you into him.

you practically crash into his chest, clinging to the back of his shirt as the tears pool in your eyes again. he just stands there, hugging you comfortingly and letting you cry for a few minutes. but he's the first to break the silence.

"figured you weren't doin' too well," he mumbles, resting his cheek against your head as his hand rubs circles on your back. "didn't text me all day, thought you were mad at me or somethin'"

"no," you mumbles, shaking your head against his chest. "I'm not mad at you. i just... i just had the shittiest day"

he hums, hugging you tighter.

"well, I'm here now," he says, and he doesn't know it, but it was the most comforting thing he could've told you.

well, he might've figured it out when you hold onto him even tighter, but he doesn't realize right away why that was significant to you.

"wanna talk about it?"

you look up at him, in all of your teary eyed, runny mascara glory. despite the pang of concern, he smiles at you, bringing a hand away from your back to wipe some of the black stains away from your cheeks.

you nod a little back at him.

"in bed?" you sniffle, and he nods, finally stepping into your room and sliding your door shut behind him.

"so you can fall asleep on me?" he asks.

your hand finds his and the action makes his face go hot, but he squeezes your palm reassuringly.

you nod again in answer to his question, already pulling back the blankets with your free hand so you could both climb under and end a terrible day on a good note. ___

GOJO SATORU

if this man ever finds you in a bad mood, prepare for the ultimate goddess treatment.

first, he's all over you, holding you, wiping away/kissing away your tears, but letting you get it all out. will probably pull you into his lap and rock you. early on in the relationship this might have felt infantilizing, but as time goes on it's just so comforting that you'll find yourself crawling into his lap to be cradled.

once you've got the tears out of your system, he let's you vent. and really vent, too. he'll hang onto every word as you explain the misfortune you'd encountered that day, always taking your side. if you had a fight with someone, he's shit talking them. if someone's hurt your feelings, he's shit talking them.

god forbid you've been physically hurt, because he'll teleport away and back in a matter of seconds with someone else's blood on his knuckles without question.

after you've talked through the whole situation, he's onto step three. which is fix the day! this usually includes sweets, a warm bubble bath, and then a prolonged period of cuddle time. sometimes on the couch while binging your new favorite show, and sometimes in a comfortable silence in bed. no matter where it is, expect satoru to get anything you might need. water? wine? a snack? a comfy pair of pajamas? he's up and at it before you could even think of getting up for it.

gojo satoru is already a whipped romantic, but expect ten times more praise and flirty comments after a bad day. it would almost be annoying, if he wasn't so genuine about his sweetness. you swear it's all the sugar in his system. (seriously, he'll remind you how much he loves you every two minutes. if he had control over what he said in his sleep, you were sure he'd keep at it even through the night)

even the next day you get a special breakfast and your favorite drink waiting for you when you wake up. he can't cook to save his life it definitely came from your favorite restaurant ten minutes prior <3 ___

INUMAKI TOGE

toge finding you crying only makes you want to cry more, to be honest.

you thought you'd be in the clear turning down an empty corridor when the tears finally came on. you'd been keeping them down all day, which had taken quite a lot of energy. so when they crept up on you and burned your throat, you knew you'd have to duck somewhere to quickly collect yourself before anyone could see.

unfortunately for you, the day's events wouldn't stop replaying in your mind as you wiped your eyes repeatedly, the tears were nonstop. now you were sliding down to the floor, holding your face in your hands as you sobbed quietly.

and much less to your liking, you could hear footsteps approaching. at a regular rate at first, before picking up speed and now rushing towards you.

looking up, you found a very worried looking toge kneeling before you. you wanted to tell him to go away, but he was already unzipping his collar and asking you if you were alright... in his own way.

"mustard leaf!?" it comes out panicked, afraid that he was the worst person to find you like this.

if you were having a panic attack, he feared he wouldn't be capable of helping you out of it. his cursed speech really was that sometimes, cursed.

"i- i'm fine," you hiccuped over your words.

the waterworks pouring out of your face told him the truth, and toge furrowed his brows, frowning deeply.

"jus' a bad day," you whimpered. "really, you c-can go," you hope he'll listen, and leave you be to cry over your humiliation. "i don't want you to s-see me like this"

toge shakes his head, trying to find a way to communicate what little he could that he'd never leave you here like this.

he reaches out to you, cupping your face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over your skin to wipe away the tears. the action catches you so off guard that you find yourself holding your breath. this effectively helps you to calm down and the tears eventually stop falling.

you're still a little embarrassed, but when you look at toge, he doesn't seem to pity you or mock you at all. he seems completely worried over you, his brows drawn in a knot, his own eyes glossy, he's even chewing on his lip.

he cared about you this much?

"thanks, toge" you say once you've caught your breath again, and your throat doesn't feel as strained.

he nods back at you, pinching your cheek softly, affectionately. he offers you a sweet smile, before sticking his tongue out. you give him a wobbly smile in return.

when you seem to be feeling better, he drops his hands, only to hold your shoulders and pull you forward so that he can hug you. you're stunned at first, but cave into it, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging on, soaking up all the comfort you could get.

"i needed this" you sigh, shutting your eyes and melt into him further.

toge squeezes you back tighter. ___

don't forget to give yourself time to cry and heal lovelies <3 xoxo ~ jordie

#okkotsu yuuta x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #gojo satoru x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta imagine #okkotsu yuuta headcanons #fushiguro megumi imagine #fushiguro megumi headcanons #inumaki toge imagine #inumaki toge headcanons #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #toge brainrot #megumi brainrot #satoru brainrot #yuuta brainrot

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Sandor Clegane Headcanons:

❝ I could keep you safe. They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them.❝

[ SFW + No Gendered Terms ]

> This is pure Grumpy x Sunshine & Sunshine x Sunshine Protector dynamic with this man.

> He absolutely keeps his gruff attitude even with you no matter how long you two have been together. He has a reputation to uphold you know!!

> His main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Gift Giving. These show his love in a way that doesn’t feel too embarrassing for him.

> Like genuinely, you would come home and find that the chores that needed to be done are already completed mysteriously and he absolutely did them without saying anything.

> He’ll come home with a gift each time. Likely small things he’ll toss your way and claim he didn’t pick it even though he precisely planned what to give you and debated for a solid ten minutes as to whether you’d like it or not.

> His favorite Love Languages to receive are: Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. Hearing how well he’s doing, what you like that he does or how you love him makes him incredibly happy!

> He’ll likely brush you off because he’s embarrassed but inside, he’ll be all giddy, knowing he’s doing well by you!

> He rarely will say “I love you” before you do. He normally says it in response to whenever you say it since it’s less embarrassing in his head to respond rather than to initiate.

> He loves when you show your love physically! Please hold his hand and interlock your fingers with his and he’ll melt inside completely. If you are smaller than him, the feeling of your small hands in his makes him overjoyed.

> He especially enjoys tender affections while getting ready for bed or while cuddling. Your kisses, hugs and general warmth absolutely melts him entirely that he’ll completely forget about being the Hound and is just yours.

> If you’re out in public together, absolutely scary dog privileges. You sincerely do not have to worry when you have a 6’6 Hound following you everywhere.

> He tries to stay stoic and unaffected by you but it is hard to resist. Some people passing could swear that the only time they’d ever see the Hound crack a small smile would be when he’s beside you.

> If you ever point out that he smiled or laughed at something you did or said, he’d clear his throat and try to claim he didn’t. If you keep persisting (and likely giving him some smooches too), he’ll give in and admit to it.

> He’s incredibly perceptive so he’ll know if you’re upset without you even saying anything! He’ll simply bluntly ask “What’s the matter with you?” or which “cunt” he has to have a “chat” with.

> If it’s something small, he’ll give you small bits of affection like patting your head and caressing your cheek and telling you not to worry about “such silly little things”.

> If it’s something more serious or caused by someone else, INSTANT PROTECTION MODE. This man is INSANELY overprotective and if someone caused you to be upset, they better count their days.

> He enjoys watching you from afar as you are busy or distracted by your hobby or chores. Something about seeing you completely in the zone, unaware of him that allows him to simply admire you is amazing to him.

> If you’re ever interested in something he knows well, fighting, horseriding, etc. and you’re inexperienced, he’ll secretly be so happy about this!!

> He’ll likely encourage you to learn how to defend yourself in some capacity just because he is incredibly paranoid about your safety.

> When teaching you how to hold a sword or stances, he’ll stand beside you and adjust your posture with his hands. He’ll probably laugh a couple times if you get knocked down but will do so while helping you up and ensuring you that you’re doing fine.

> He’ll rarely, if ever, use pet names like “darling” or “love” but rather a specific, personal nickname to you. If you are a highborn, it’ll likely be related to your House in some way. (EX: Stark=Pup, Little wolf, etc.) If the House Sigil is a fearsome animal like Stark Wolves or Lannister Lions, he will always refer to you as the smaller version of that animal, (Pup, Cub, etc.), simply because he cannot see you as a threat in his eyes.

> Because he can put off his emotions and tends to be aggressive, fights can happen from time to time. He tries his best to keep calm but again—This is the Hound. He’s likely to raise his voice and yell.

> Regardless of if you are sensitive or not to such a thing, he feels AWFUL. This man would blame himself endlessly for treating you horribly like that.

> He is incapable of apologizing because he isn’t good at words. He’d close himself off for some time and revert to trying to do something to gain your favor again even if you say it’s unnecessary.

> Once he’s sure you’re alright, he holds onto you for a bit, just to make sure that everything truly is alright.

> You are likely to be the only person who could boss him around and he’d oblige happily. He’d complain under his breath while immediately heading off to do whatever you asked of him.

> In terms of marriage, he’s indifferent. If you wished to get married, he’d take some time to consider it before inevitably giving in to you as it’s impossible for him not to.

> With kids, he has a massive hesitance at first. Considering his own family, he has a massive fear of failing them by being too harsh or failing to protect them as his father failed to protect him against Gregor. Give him enough time to heal and encourage him that you trust him to be the father to your children and he’ll give it a chance. He’d call your children with him his “little pups” and if you had daughters, he would 10000% be the best girl dad you’ve ever seen.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane headcanon #sandor clegane headcanons #asoiaf #asoiaf headcanons #got #game of thrones #game of thrones headcanons #the hound #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane x y/n

[whump-in-the-closet]

based on this prompt by @whump-kia. i haven't been able to stop thinking about it and the brain rot is killing me so voila

***

Villain wiped the blood off his hands, letting it splatter the concrete. "How does it feel? To have our positions reversed?" He grabbed Hero's collar, hauling his nemesis close-- close enough to see the blurred eyes and to hear the choked breathing. "I know that I'm enjoying it."

Hero wheezed. "I'd give the experience five out of ten. You're getting sloppy." Blood dripped down his chin with his words.

A sharp inhale. Villain's grip tightened.

Hero didn't see the blow coming, but he felt it. Iron-tasting blood filled his mouth, something ripping loose when he prodded his teeth with his tongue. Fuck. He swirled the broken tooth around, trying not to gag on the ocean of crimson. Disgusting.

When Villain leaned close, Hero spat the blood out. He laughed, the sound raw in his throat. "Like I said, sloppy."

Villain let go of Hero's collar, letting Hero slump to the concrete roof. He dragged a hand down his face, flinging the blood off with a flick of his wrist. Villain snarled. "You think you're so clever? Do you know where that's going to get you?"

"--I'm still alive, aren't I--"

Crack. A kick to the mouth this time. Hero's lip split and he doubled over, choking on the blood that stained the concrete.

"A broken jaw." Villain smiled wolfishly. He made no idle promises.

Hero pushed himself up on his hands and knees, staring at the puddle of blood and the ghastly-white tooth in the centre. He peered up at Villain and matched his smile.

Hero, with shaking limbs, stood. His vision instantly flashed dark at the sudden movement. With crimson staining his chin and dripping down his throat, he forced another laugh.

He lifted his hand and slowly, pausing for dramatic effect, flipped Villain off. "Go ahead. Hit me again. Maybe it'll raise your rating."

A flicker of rage. And then Villain grabbed Hero's wrist and yanked him forward, twisting his arm behind his back. Hero cried out. Fuck again.

Villain hissed in his ear, "Don't threaten me with a good time." He twisted Hero's arm a hair tighter and laughed when Hero gave a strangled half-cry.

"A solid 5.5," said Hero, voice sharp.

Snap.

Hero screamed this time.

Villain dropped him on his broken arm and white sparks burned paths behind Hero's eyes. The pain exploded to devour his entire body.

Villain kicked him. Hard, in the ribs. "That should keep you quiet for at least five minutes." He walked away, then returned, swinging a crowbar. Back and forth, back and forth.

Hero's eyes followed it.

Back and forth.

"Now we can have a good time."

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump ideas #whump community #hero whumpee #villain and hero #villain and hero drabble #hero whump #cw broken bones #cw beating #defiant whumpee #let me know if i missed anything #whump drabble #whump scenario #whumper turned whumpee #maybe. its implied is all

[prienova]

I showed my friend, who knows almost nothing about f1 and has absolutely no filter, photos of each driver on the 2022 grid and made her name and give me her first impressions on them and 😭. She just said whatever came into her head at the time, none of this was really thought over :). Everything is under the cut since this is such a long post!

Max Verstappen: William Osbourne

italian or spanish vibes

slightly dark and broody vibes

takes racing very seriously

“He is either super nice or an absolute asshole, or maybe he’s both who knows.”

Sergio Perez: Kristopher

A little lost but everyone loves it

100% has compilations on youtube that are like “kristopher being kristopher for 8 minutes and 23 seconds”

Has spent so long in f1 that everyone is telling him to quit

Very enthusiastic and his fans are very loyal

Charles Leclerc: Alexio 

“Damn he’s fine as hell!”

Hot, sexy, and hardworking

Has so many smutty fanfics written about him but he doesn’t know that they exist

Famous for his dimples and general smolder

Carlos Sainz: Akaash

“Oh my god, is he indian? YES DESI REP!” (She was so exited, I felt bad telling her he is spanish)

Could act in a movie as a fuckboy

Nice enough but might break your heart

Hard to approach but well liked by others

Lewis Hamilton: Joseph (but goes by Joe)

“Why are these guys so hot?”

Very wholesome and doing his best

“He looks like a good driver, I’d let him grip my steering wheel” ;)

Probably posts thirst traps after workouts

George Russell: George (she got one!)

Smiles and laughs but is secretly sad inside

“Is he gay? He feels gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I am too and my senses are tingling.”

Solid driver

After seeing him in his williams era: “Awww, look at his hair, what a gem :)”

Fernando Alonso: Alec La Chance

Old man, people are begging him to retire but he stays out of spite

Has a questionable hairstyle

Can come off as rude and scary but he is just blunt

Has probably hazed the new drivers each year

Esteban Ocon: David

Sweet guy, seems very bubbly and fun to be around, has a cute face

Would hype you up if you were feeling down

“He's that one cousin who you see at family gatherings every 4 years that you get along with super well but never talk to outside of those gatherings as neither of you can seem to make the effort to reach out.” (yes, this is her exact wording 😭)

“Is his hair wet or is that just an unholy amout of hair gel?”

Daniel Ricciardo: Arnesto

Very popular among the guys and gals ;)

Very chill and well liked

“He’s so smiley, I love his teeth!”

Looks like he belongs in FIFA

Lando Norris: Theodore

“How old is this guy? I thought you said they had to be 18 to drive or something.”

Has an “I’m not like other boys” mentality

Probably reads those romance webnovels that all have the exact same plot and cries when he finishes them because he wants to be loved

Says “pog” and “sus” unironically

Valterri Bottas: Scott

“He’s giving me australian vibes.”

Has a nice smile, seems chill and relaxed, very reliable

Not a fan of publicity but deals with it only because he has to

Comes off as tough and intense but is actually a total sweetheart, gives off major dad energy

Zhou Guanyu: Andrew

“Ooooh, I like him. He would bump into me on the way to work, spill my drink, and buy me coffee as an apology.”

A solid dude and a good friend

Seems like a good sport

She spent almost ten minutes drooling over his modeling pictures 💀

Kevin Magnussen: Gordon Ramsay

Has strong father vibes but is unhinged

Head empty, only cars

Has questionable morals but everyone loves him

Stoner energy

“He looks like if someone tried to copy Gordon Ramsay but changed it up a bit so it wasn’t obvious.”

Mick Schumacher: Brad

Very charismatic

“What happened to his hair? Why would he cut it like that?” (I showed her before and after photos of that one haircut)

Very sweet but is also a menace to society

Looks like he would enjoy cherry flavored cough medicine

Pierre Gasly: Chadwick

Very cool and suave, flirts a lot, secretly sad inside

Throws parties often

Would have went into finance if f1 didn’t work out

Has a small but devoted fanbase, extremely underrated driver

“I can’t tell if I would trust him or not.”

Yuki Tsunoda: Benjamin

Very nice, another solid guy

“He has the same hair my brother did when he was 12.”

Can drive an f1 car well but gets too nervous to drive on regular streets because he doesn’t trust himself to not start speeding

“He’s cute, I’d date him.”

Sebastian Vettel: Gandalf

Very nice and wise, pleasant to talk to

Wins a lot, has many fans that thirst over him and his scruffy hair

Could have been a footballer but chose to go into f1 instead

“He has fun uncle energy, I want to smoke a joint with him.”

Lance Stroll: Jacob from Twilight

“THIS GUY’S HAIRCUT IS EVEN WORSE THAN BRAD’S!”

When he got rid of his old hair, his passion for the sport left with it

Sometimes gets intimidated by some of the intense racers

“Someone please tell him to grow his hair back out, it looked so good.”

Alex Albon: Jughead from Archie

Has a good portion of haters for no reason

A bit awkward but very sweet

Pulls off the red hair VERY well

“I want to be his bottle of hairdye.”

Nicholas Latifi: Santander

Is either the best driver currently or very bad

Looks very intuitive and thoughtful

Seems handy and domestically skilled

“I like his hands, do you think he moisturizes?”

I honestly can’t tell which one is my favorite 😭

#formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen #sergio perez #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton #george russell #fernando alonso #esteban ocon #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #valtteri bottas #zhou guanyu #kevin magnussen #mick schumacher #pierre gasly #yuki tsunoda #sebastian vettel #lance stroll #alex albon #nicholas latifi

[jamneuromain]

The Banquet

Chris Evans x You (Reader)

Warning: Smut, 18+, Semi-public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Sex in Bathroom

Summary:

Banquets are always boring. You are certain of it. However, your boyfriend sitting next to you certainly makes things better. For today, you have some soup for appetizer, salmon for main course, and a quickie in the bathroom for fun.

Banquets are always boring. You are certain of it.

Certain of the fact that people would go to great lengths – neither eating nor drinking – so that their pictures won’t be hideous. Certain of the fact that the food never suiting your taste. Certain of the fact that they always exchange fake smiles, fake laughs, and fake sincerity while making a toast.

However, your boyfriend sitting next to you certainly makes things better.

Chris would shield you from cameras, secretly share his opinions regarding food, and provide you with little escapades to divert your attention.

Well, escapade might have been a strong word. But you will still call them escapades when he finds a dark corner to fuck you real quick.

For today, you have some soup for appetizer, salmon for main course, and a quickie in the bathroom for fun.

You were waiting for dessert when Chris drew a cross on your thigh, meaning you are going to excuse yourself from the table and he will catch up in a minute.

Bathroom. That’s where you are going. You went to the bathroom right before the banquet began. Not only is it a ten-minute walk away from the tables, but also it is hidden in a corner between halls, making your appearances in the same bathroom less detectable. A bonus point being there’s no camera pointing at the bathroom.

You are about to step into the lady’s room when a faint scent of your favorite cologne hits your nose. A solid chest crushes your shoulder.

“Sorry, but I think you are heading the wrong way.” The familiar voice whispers by your ear, and you almost laugh because your favorite person sneaks an arm around your waist. Chris Evans, THE Captain America, plans to fuck you in the bathroom. The media will go nuts trying to get their hands on this piece of dirt.

You almost purr at his words, turning your most seductive voice on, “but Sir, I’m waiting for my boyfriend. Have you met him?” You turn to meet his blue eyes with a speck of green in them, “he’s six foot tall,” your hand traces his arm and shoulder, feeling his muscles flex under your touch, and stopping at the base of his neck, “has a glorious beard,” you pull yourself close, nearly whispering the final sentence, “and awfully hot.”

The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. He dips his head to steal a kiss from you.

“Glorious, huh? I thought you like me clean-shaven.” Chris mutters within an inch of your lips, “wait here for me will ya?”

He takes a second to stride inside the male’s room. Luckily, there’s no one inside. Chris grabs you by your wrist and you stumble into a stall with the door closed behind you.

“This dress is a fuckin’ tease.” He growls, pressing wet hot kisses on the thin line above your breasts. “Wanna fuck you since I saw you.”

You let out a breathy moan in response. You have been doing quickies way too many times than you should, and he knows exactly how to turn you on.

He bends you over, your back arching, grinding on his hard erection.

“Can’t wait.” You whisper.

Your blue dress splits mid-thigh, giving him the perfect opportunity to finger your pussy. You know right that second that he’s going to be awe-struck by something he totally didn’t expect: what you put under your dress.

“Fuck.” He hisses by your ear, “A thong?”

In your defense, you have to. Otherwise, the tight dress will display your pantie line, and that is not some view you want others to see. But you are smart enough to rile him up just a little bit more.

“Thought it’d be convenient for you to fu-” Your sentence is cut off, as he shoves two fingers between your pussy lips and strums your clit in a fast and painful rhythm. He did not bother to take off your thong, only snapping the string – let’s face it, that thing between your thighs is quite literally a string – to the side. You simply cannot speak; your voice contorts into an audible moan. Your core tightens, threatening to snap at any second. Your poor bundle of nerves is set on fire with his skilled fingers. He toys you without mercy, and palms your ass with his other hand, spanking you till you’re red and sore.

The bathroom door flings open. Sounds of leather shoes clacking come rustling in. If you are clear-headed, you can make out two men come to use the bathroom. But you are knee-deep in pleasure and pain that you missed the sound other than your blood soaring through your ears.

“We’ve got company, babe.” Chris pulls down his zipper, his bulbous head teasing your soaking entrance. He puffs out a hot breath, his beard cutting into your sensitive skin, “better be quiet.”

One hand resting on your belly, the other holding on to your waist, Chris slams you back onto his painfully hard dick.

No matter how many times you two fuck each other, there’s no way you can bear his thick length at the very beginning. You are stretched to the fullest, your clit throbbing for lacking attention, tears, and sweat smearing your make-up. He presses your belly, making sure he’s settled inside. You can practically feel his dick rearranging your guts and you almost scream for the sensitivity.

He pulls out before sheathing himself entirely inside your pussy. Your velvety walls convulse violently and he curses. Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, your hands fly up to the bathroom stall before you completely collapse against it. Under this circumstance, it’s a total miracle that you are still able to stand.

“Man, you’ve seen her? She’s absolutely stunning.” One of the men speaks. You nearly have an orgasm from the proximity between where you two are and the stranger.

“Yeah well, that guy got lucky though.” The other complaints in reply, “that blue dress? Fuck me. She’s hot.”

Well, fuck you. Strangers. Plural. Double the chances of being caught. Your channel tightens, and Chris thrusts experimentally. You bite back on your moan. The aftershock sends sparks to the end of your fingertips, and the irregular contract does NOT help your intention of keeping it down.

Fuck Chris for being Chris too.

Chris seems to hear your mind, “feels good, huh? I bet the boys outside are talking about you.” He mutters. You can hear the smugness in his voice, taking all the pride in the world for having you as his girlfriend. You muffle yourself with the back of your hand from slipping out more noises when his dick hits a spot that shocks you with pure bliss.

“That dress does hug her ass, I bet her boyfriend loves it.” The first one stresses his opinion, causing sniggering between the two.

“Chris Evans is an ass man after all.” The other laughs along.

Your blood freezes, ice shards crawl under your skin, your brain goes numb, unable to think clearly.

They are talking about you.

About you being Chris’ girlfriend. About your dress suiting your ass just fine.

The dirty talk and the imaginary fantasy? You are fine with it. But when it comes to people ACTUALLY talking about you and your body outside the bathroom stall, where you and your boyfriend are fucking each other? For a spilt second, you fear that Chris would punch the guys in the face.

Chris most definitely feels your body go rigid, as he fumbles with your clit. “Fuck, you’re clenching me.” He sputters out a curse, his neck flushes red, his mouth forms an “O” but soon brands the joint between your neck and your shoulder in a wet sloppy kiss.

You don’t know how your body can be burning and freezing at the same time. Flames engulf your every sense when he pinches your clit and snaps your hip backward to meet his, while you are terrified of being discovered, your tight channel grips him like a vice. He slows down his motion, hanging you on the edge of pleasure, having you whisper-yelling, choking pleas as you try your best to spin around and beg him with your watery eyes.

“Did you hear something?” One of the men asks, his voice lacing with suspicion, as he approaches the closed stalls.

You hold your breath, nearly crying out when Chris plays with your body like an instrument again.

His finger sneaks down to your clit and rubs torturous circles. Just barely an amount of stimulation that keeps your synapses light up, but not enough for you to reach the delicious peak that you are craving at the moment. You want to turn around and shoot him a glare for edging you like this, only that it is impossible when you are pinned between his strong muscular body and the bathroom stall.

“Nah, man, there’s nothing. You’re being paranoid. C’mon, I think I heard Ryan Reynolds talking outside.” The other grunts impatiently, footsteps moving away from the bathroom stalls gradually. “If we’re lucky, we could earn a chance in the new Deadpool movie…”

With clatters of leather shoes hurrying outside, you finally let out the breath you have been holding for so long. “Chris,” you beg shakily, “please.”

You can’t take it anymore. The excitement, the stimulation, the fear of getting caught, all of it. You are being torn apart by the delicious friction he’s drawing out inside your body and your pounding heart, which is trying to leap out of your throat.

A few lazy strokes reply to your plea, hitting a soft spot that has you whimpering.

“Oh sweetheart,” he spins you around, the emptiness for a short period of time makes you whine, but quickly he sheathes himself in, stuffing your quivering pussy full once again, “so needy, huh? Can’t come without me?”

Your arms lay on his shoulders since you have zero control over your body – or strength to smack the grin off his face for that matter. To tell the truth, you won’t even if you could. The grin, the devious smirk, suits him just fine. His pupils are lust-blown, the blue in his eyes replaced with a shade of darkness, turning you more on. How that is possible in your present fucked-out state, you don’t know.

“Can’t. Need you. Fuck me so good.” You can barely form a complete sentence; words reduce to a barely audible murmur. Bathroom? Doesn’t matter. Male bathroom? Matters even less. You want release, you want your orgasm. You want Chris to fuck you, to ruin you, to crush you with his body weight as you descend into heaven.

You let out a gasp when he lifts your thighs to his waist, a sign for you to hold on to him.

“Since you beg so nicely.” He rams into you before the sentence leaves his lips, blocking your ragged moans with his sinfully hot red lips. Your poor pussy finally gives in, and the coil in your abdomen explodes into a thousand pieces. Your mind goes blank for seconds, as too much pleasure takes root in your flesh and bones.

He kisses your temple, whispering your name as you come down from your high. Your limbs feel like jello, and you lean onto him, your weight completely on him with a full amount of trust.

“You alright, babe?” Chris cradles your chin in the utmost delicate way. His blue eyes scan over your features, checking whether you are still in a good state. “Is it too much?”

You gasp when the long-forgotten thong goes back to where it belongs, which is your ruined pussy, and you chew your lower lip sheepishly. Chris, however, chuckles, pulling the offending string/thong down your shin and stuffing it in his pocket in one fluid motion.

As the both of you dodge the afterparty and get into the car his team arranged for you, you wince due to the sensitivity of your abused pussy and spanked ass. The feeling is uncomfortable but most welcomed. Hyperventilation brings out the rosiness on your cheeks, and you smile a bit too hard because of the post-orgasmic bliss.

Your stomach grumbles lightly, Lisa’s pot roast practically calls out to your now-empty belly. But you don’t miss the soufflé for dessert. Not a single bit.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #the lucky Saturday he met you #chris evans smut

[stxrshxpxd]

those who have kissed before

pairing: 90s graham coxon x reader

word count: 796

warnings: none

prompt: reader is playing a game of truth or dare with the boys and graham and her relive some untold memories

* * *

“I said from the start this was a bad idea,” I reminded Graham as he grimaced at the question he had just been asked. Being one of Damon’s oldest friends, I had tagged along for the UK shows of their European tour. It was about to be 2 am and we were all sitting in a circle around a small table in the back of the tour bus, lazily playing some sort of card version of ‘truth or dare’.

“No, I’m trying to count,” Graham laughed, thinking hard about his body count. To my right Damon rolled his eyes, laughing, and slid down in his seat till the back of his head was lying against the low backrest.

“Right.. Depending on what counts and what doesn’t, somewhere between ten and thirteen,” Graham said, his cheeks shifting to a light red shade. Everyone around the table was grinning and I could swear we all felt like giddy teenagers. We were definitely a good few drinks in and all nearing delirium.

“Did you count Damon?” Dave asked with a jokingly serious tone and expression.

“Fuck off!” Damon chuckled and tossed a bottle cap at him and the rest of us laughed.

“Alright,” he muttered and sat up straight again, picking a card.

“Oh shit.. This one’s for all of us.”

He looked around and we were all quiet again now, expecting the worst.

“Those who have kissed before need to kiss again,” Damon said in a calm voice. My eyes somewhat discreetly shot up at Graham right away. I imagined we were both remembering at the end of a party last year when we had sat on our friends’ balcony and somehow ended up kissing for a solid minute, before someone had stumbled out to puke onto the street and the spark between us was killed. What’s weird is I don’t remember us being that drunk.

“Alright, sluts first,” I announced and nudged Damon in the side, earning a dramatically offended expression.

“Oh, have you not kissed every single person in this room?!” I argued and Alex, Dave and Graham held in giggles. Damon sighed and heaved himself over the table, placing quick and rushed pecks on all three boys’ lips and ended it with one on mine. We were all back to falling in and out of laughter and I took a sip of my beer.

“I haven’t seen you two kiss before,” Alex said but it sounded like a question and he was pointing at me and Damon.

“Oh, please, he was my new year's kiss like every year from when we were twelve to like.. nineteen.”

“Fair enough,” Alex laughed and shrugged and then he suddenly turned to his left to grab Graham’s face and pull him in for an unnecessarily wet kiss. Dave, Damon and I collapsed in a pile of yelps and laughter as Graham was let go and his cheeks grew even redder.

It seemed everyone had kissed who they were supposed to kiss and were coming down from our giggling highs for a moment. But my heart was beating hard and I was avoiding eye contact with Graham.

“I would quite like to cleanse my palette after that,” he said at last and I couldn’t help but return the obvious stare he was directing at me. Our eyes met and everyone got completely quiet for a second. Damon’s eyes frantically flickered between the two of us a few times.

“You’ve kissed?”

Neither one of us answered for a few seconds. Then I exhaled and nodded.

“Last year.”

Damon was shocked neither of us had told him. I didn’t know why I hadn’t. It was just that it didn’t really feel like it was a silly drunken sloppy thing between laughing friends. It was something else entirely, and neither of us had talked about it since. Hence why it felt incredibly strange to do it again now in front of the boys.

“Shit. Well, go on then.”

Graham and I shared eye contact again and he laughed softly and forced a shrug of his shoulder, and he began to stand and lean across the table. I couldn’t do anything other than to follow his lead, and forcefully suppress any emotions so as to not let him feel them. We kissed shortly and sweetly. It was definitely more than a peck but there was no tongue.

I found my brain had instantly blocked out all the sensory details of the kiss, and being sad about having done so, when I sat down again. I wished it had lasted longer and I felt I desperately missed his tongue from the party last year.

My ears tuned back into the scattered laughter all around the room and I was back to avoiding Graham’s glances again.

#take a shot every time you read the word ‘kiss’ #this miiiight get a part 2 i feel like it needs it #britpop #damon albarn #blur #graham coxon #alex james #dave rowntree #au #fic #imagine #y/n #graham coxon x reader

[a-vibing-potato]

HFTH Episode 62

I haven't even finished listening to the episode yet, but I just can't with this podcast. I knew it would be a banger since it has all the good characters, and it has not disappoint.

First of all, Rick Rounds, who I'm starting to develop such a confusing relationship with and I don't know if it's just me?? Before I just hated the guy because he came after Polly (and we all know how I feel about Polly <3) and kidnapped Yaretzi and stole Polly's umbrella so that Mort had to fight him, but now that we've had so many stories with him, I'm starting to like him??? I don't want to because he harassed my found family, but he's also just an interesting character?

Also, Nikignik's weird little interlude thing where they're just like, "If I had to eat, I think I'd just forget and freaking die. By the way, I've eaten a few people even though I also had a human friend." Like, buddy, I am so confused and concerned but also mood and the ADHD vibes from this (honestly I feel this so hard to my core, eating is hard to remember)

Anyway, currently I'm listening to Moth's story (Moth my beloved <3) so that's great, and I love the cute little interaction between Ray and Moth and Ray caring about Moth's nightmares and being worried about Moth and we get a fun little 'after-care' scene, but also, I'm over here sobbing with laughter at some of the dialogue between the characters when Moth goes into the diner.

"That's Diggory, they're very friendly."

"I am. Hello!"

"Something wrong with your food?"

Diggory looked down at their plate, which seemed to Moth untouched, pancakes and bacon in neat rows.

“No, it is lovely. I like the way the brown thing moves.”

“Syrup. That would be syrup."

"I don’t mean to scare you, but a helicopter gave you a mystery injection and flew away.” (I don't know why, but this had me laughing for like a solid ten minutes at least, and I still keep thinking about it and laughing now. I don't know if it's because I'm sleep deprived but like, Riot, that is the last thing Moth wants to hear right now, also, Moth already knows that.)

“We’re not like, the most medically proficient people ever.”

“I can sew my arm back on,” Diggory said.

“I can heal myself,” Olivier said.

(So you guys are medically proficient, but only for yourselves lol)

That's where I am, and I'm hoping that Polly, Mort, and Yaretzi will be in the next story so this might have to go in my favorites so far. Hello from the Hallowoods does NOT disappoint.

#hfth #hello from the hallowoods #hfth s1 spoilers #hfth s2 spoilers #okay #but i swear that before i never would have classified diggory as chaotic #but now they've got me on the floor. diggory why

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Prompt: “there is a rumour going around that the vocalist of a popular boy band is dating someone and everyone’s guessing who he could be dating, and everyone’s guess is anyone but me” au (taken from this list by @alan-apologist)

Word count: 608

Pairing: Tinn × Gun

Title: Not Your Boyfriend (Or, Am I?)

Note: This is an original work by me (@watchingblsnowandforever). Do NOT repost, or post to another website without my explicit permission.

No matter how hard and gruelling the day was, Tinn always found a little bit of joy in the break room. Every single day, without fail, all the doctors and nurses gossiped about the rumoured boyfriend of the lead vocalist of Chinzhilla. 

Chinzhilla was the #1 band in Thailand now. Tinn couldn't go anywhere without hearing their name. 

One time, he'd realized that he was out of toothpaste in the middle of the night and had to drag himself to the nearest 7/11. At the counter, the boy noticed his Chinzhilla hoodie he'd borrowed (read: stolen) from Gun and went on a breathless rant about how good Chinzhilla was and how handsome their members were. Tinn would have found it hilarious if he were not sleep deprived, but he could only just blink owlishly at the boy until he sheepishly apologized and finally gave him his toothpaste. 

A couple of weeks ago, in an interview, the other band members were teasing the lead vocalist about how whipped he was for his boyfriend, and Gun had confidently retorted that his boyfriend was more whipped for him, and except for a little snickering, none of the others had denied that.

While true, it'd taken Tinn back to their high school days, and he'd screamed into his pillow with cherry red cheeks, and then called Tiw to rant. Again. 

See, they had a deal. Every other weekend, Tinn treated Tiw to whatever he wanted, and Tiw patiently listened to all his (coherent and otherwise) rants. 

They both knew Tiw would do it no matter how much he complained, but it gave them an opportunity to catch up on each other's lives.

Anyways, since then, there had been an uproar among the Chinzhilla fans about who this mysterious boyfriend could be, and why they didn't know all about him already.

So his colleagues - grown, professional adults, he might add - liked to speculate who the lucky man could be. Their guesses became more ridiculous by the day. 

Today was no different. And as usual, he just listened to them and laughed internally as he ate his homemade lunch (packed by his beloved boyfriend).

“Do you think it’s that guy, Tiwson?”

“Oh yeah! Doesn’t he attend every one of their concerts?”

“I’ve heard that he even has a backstage pass!”

“Wait, wait, I think Gun and Tiwson went to the same high school!”

There was a collective gasp.

Tinn choked on his rice. 

Tiwson?! Tiwson of all people?! He had the urge to laugh hysterically even as his eyes watered. That was simultaneously the closest to the right person and the furthest thing from the truth.

“Are you okay, phi?” Abbie asked. He gave her a thumbs up.

Abbie was an intern under him. She was one of the best medical students he’d seen. Only thing was, she loved to gossip, and knew everything about everyone that was ever on the internet. And she had a huge crush on her fellow intern Tess.

________

That evening, when he told Tiwson about how he was apparently dating Gun, Tiw’s expression had him laughing for a solid ten minutes.

Gun, on the other hand, looked at him all angry and jealous and kissed him senseless and then some.

It was a pretty long night, and Tinn had to take the next day off.

Totally worth it.

Maybe, just maybe, he should encourage his colleagues’ “discussions” and tell Gun all about it when he came back home.

Gun chased him with (a replica of) the Chinzhilla plushie around their house after he heard that.

Life was pretty good, he thought, as he ran around the living room laughing.

#fanfic #koko writes #my school president #my school president the series #msp my love #just me and bl #tinngun #guntinn #prompts #guntaphon wongwitthaya #tinnaphob jirawatthanakul #gun guntaphon #tinn tinnaphob

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Eleven

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 5555

The Winter Dance is finally upon us!

This is basically fluff. Start to finish. No spoilers really, except mention of a few characters who become important in TLOU 2 (Jesse and Dina). Ellie also calls Joel a fogey in TLOU 2 and it stuck with me. This is pretty dialogue heavy compared to most chapters.

Also please don't skate on frozen ponds. It's a good way to die. And definitely don't use 20+ year old make up. It's a good way to get eye infections.

Come Home

Chapter Eleven - Dreams Of Yesterday

“Come on, Joel!”

“I am really not sure about this!”

“Just…c’mon. Do it for Ellie!”

“Oh, that is a low blow.”

“Fine, then do it for the coffee.”

“That’s even lower!” you hear him bellow as you whizz past and you cackle to yourself as you do another circuit.

The journey to the lake was barely fifteen minutes on horseback, and when you had spied it through the trees you had given a sharp intake of painfully cold breath at the simplistic yet staggering beauty in front of you. The perfectly clear, deep blue sky arching above provided a stark backdrop to the bare bones of the trees and dark pines that lined it thickly. Their reflections would be beautifully mirrored at any warmer time, but the solid circumference of pearlescent silver blue that stretched ahead delighted you far more and is exactly what you hoped you would find.

Dismounting the horse, you had pulled two pairs of skates from your backpack and turned to Joel grinning wickedly.

“Wait, are you kiddin’ me?”

“I thought I’d give a pair to Ellie for Christmas, teach her how. But we obviously need to make sure the ice is safe. If it can hold our weight, it can hold hers.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” he had asked, jumping down from his own horse.

“It will,” you promised. “I used to skate like this a lot. Besides, you know I’d never put her in danger.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he grumbled, fiddling unnecessarily with the saddlebags.

“Just…trust me,” you had said, thrusting the skates at him before beginning to put yours on. “It will be fun.”

Ten minutes later he was still prevaricating on the shore. You meanwhile had been delighting in the freeing feeling of speeding around, the freezing air ruffling your clothes and biting at your cheeks in a very pleasant way. You approach where Joel is hanging on to a tree at the edge of the lake, his skates finally on his feet. Your gloved hands seek his and you tug him toward the ice.

“I haven’t done this in years,” he protests gently.

“Neither have I. It’s just like riding a bike.”

“Well I haven’t done that in years either.”

“You’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Just think of the coffee.”

“Are you bribin’ me?”

“Bribe is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as emotional blackmail.”

He laughs and it’s a warming, lovely thing amid the frosty air.

As he steps on the ice his eyes widen and he immediately begins to flail as his legs skid underneath him. For such a big man, he resembles nothing so much as a newborn giraffe on shaky legs and you try and fail to suppress your giggles.

“Its okay! Joel? Joel! Look at me, you’re oka-“

The last word is cut off as he finally tips too far and sits down hard on the ice with an “Oof!” He’s still clinging on to your hands for dear life so manages to drags you down too, and you land somewhat painfully on your knees in between his legs.

“Oh shit!” he exclaims. “You hurt?”

You shake your head, unable to speak around the laughter that spills out.

“Well, least we know for sure the ice ain’t gonna give,” he says wryly as you get up and help to pull him to his feet. “But I’m too damn old for this.”

“Aw come on. You’re not that old. And besides, you think Ellie’s gonna give up that fast? You’ll get back into it.”

Once he gets his feet under him and remembers how to move on the ice, he ends up being pretty good. You are patient with him, first skating backward with both of his hands in yours and leading him gently until he feels confident enough to skate next to you holding on to just one hand. When he manages to do a wobbly circuit alone you cheer him on, and his smile grows wide under his flushed, cold-pinkened cheeks. To your surprise but utter delight, he slides his hand back into yours again to complete a few more passes across the ice, your voices raised together in laughter as you move joyously through the perfect winter scenery.

“So…when even is Christmas?” you ask an hour later as you lean against a pine to put your normal boots back on. “Tomorrow? Next week?”

“Coupla weeks,” he replies, grimacing as the cold hits his socked feet before he has a chance to stuff them into his own boots. “Maria somehow managed to keep an accurate calendar all this time. Thanksgivin’ was just before you came to town.”

“Oh!” you say in surprise. “Then…” You trail off.

“What’s up?” he asks as he bends to begin tying his laces.

“Nothing. Its silly really. Its just…that means that it was my birthday. Probably around the time I arrived in Jackson. I’ve not really thought about it. I know how old I am, obviously, and I knew since it was winter it was sometime around now. I just…haven’t marked it since…well, you know.”

“Hmm,” he grunts non-committally, and he touches the place on his coat where his watch lies underneath in a seemingly unconscious gesture. “Well, I’ll haveta get you a drink at the dance then.”

“Oh…yeah. When is that again?” You try to force your voice to sound casual. He hadn’t mentioned it since the clocktower the previous week and you had followed his lead, still not entirely certain whether he had just been neighbourly when he had asked you to go.

“This Saturday. Ellie hasn’t quit talkin’ about it for days. Some of the other kids will be there. Think she’s a little nervous about it all.”

“Understandable. I remember my first dance. I was terrified. Ended up having drinks with my best friend beforehand just to calm the nerves. Not that she needs that kind of courage,” you add hastily.

“If anyone has a way of winnin’ people over, its her,” Joel agrees, a begrudging admiration to his tone. “We’ll come by ‘round sundown if that’s okay with you.”

“Sounds great,” you say, and you hide your grin by bending over your pack to shove your skates inside.

Though you had been given clothes by Maria when you arrived and are grateful that they are both warm and free of any kinds of disgusting stains, at the moment you are cursing the fact that they are also all extremely practical. An hour before Joel and Ellie are due to come over, you stare at your reflection with a sigh and root around in your closet for the third time in the hope that something distinctly impractical and extremely sexy has materialised since the last time you looked. Strangely, it has not. So you make do with jeans, your boots, and a flattering and fairly low cut vest top with a more practical but still figure hugging long sleeved shirt over it. Most of the make up you had nabbed from the store is unusable, as you had imagined, but you manage to eke out a little eyeshadow and a little tinted lip balm. Just enough that you feel slightly more dressy than usual.

The knock at the door startles you, even though you have been anticipating it with nervous excitement all day, and you smooth your hair and pull on your coat before opening it. Ellie is bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet in front of the door, Joel lounging at the bottom of your porch steps.

“Hi,” you greet them warmly. “All set?”

“Yup,” says Ellie excitedly.

“Anyone would think you actually do wanna be around people,” you tease as you pull the door to.

“Pfft, I just don’t wanna spend another night playing cards with you guys,” she fires back. “Fogeys, both of you.”

You hold your hand over your heart and pretend to be deeply wounded even as Joel lets out a disbelieving scoff.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I always beat you at Go Fish.”

As you walk to the centre of town you look up to see that the sky is a perfect winter sunset – violently orange and pink and gold in the west and fading to a purple black up above where the first stars can be seen emerging. It seems like the whole town will be in attendance tonight. People are coming from every side street, stepping from porches after closing up their shops and houses and all are heading in the same direction – a largeish building that you have never been into before but that you have noticed on your wanderings around town. You had been slightly anxious about the prospect of being around so many people all at once after so long, but you found that with Ellie by your side and Joel next to her, it wasn’t so bad and you could focus on the excitement of the night building in the air instead.

As you approach the hall music swells and you hear whoops and cheers and clapping from within. A sudden burst of warmth spreads throughout you to join the pleasant anticipation you’re already feeling – despite everything, despite what lay outside, these people were being so very human, gathering together and celebrating nothing more than the fact that they were alive.

“Ellie! Hey!”

The girl who calls to her is with small group of teenagers up ahead. She is about Ellie’s age, dark haired and dark eyed with tendrils of hair escaping her high ponytail to frame her face.

“Oh, hey Dina,” Ellie calls back, and then gives Joel a sideways glance.

“Well go on then, don’t let us fogeys cramp your style,” he murmurs in an amused tone, and she leaps forward, rushing to join the group without looking back.

“Guess I don’t have to worry about drinking in front of her and being a bad example,” you smile.

The hall is packed with people and the warmth of their collective body heat begins to thaw your frozen extremities almost immediately. The walls are made of a cosy, rustic wood, with thick, dark coloured drapes across the windows to keep out the winter’s night. Metal-framed lanterns cast their patterns to the ceiling, strings of lights have been hung from the rafters above and splay in random bursts across the walls, tables and chairs have been pushed back to the edges of the room to maximise space to dance. People twirl, faces delighted and free in a way you haven’t seen in so many years. Your eyes rove over the scene feasting upon the sight of joy and happiness. When they flick to Joel he is looking down at you with an appraising smile, the low light making his eyes twinkle black.

“Its beautiful,” you murmur, though you’re sure your voice is lost in the music that stirs the room.

You and Joel make your way to the wooden panel of the bar, where several other people stand propping it up – watching the dancers, chatting, laughing, throwing back drinks.

“Lemmie get you that birthday drink. Whaddya havin’?” Joel enquires.

“What do they have?”

“Beer, whiskey, wine, some folk brew their own moonshine but even I’d think twice about that!”

“Wine sounds good. Thanks!”

As Joel waits for Seth to serve him, you take off your gloves and stuff them in the pocket of your coat before taking that off too, folding it and holding it against your stomach. You spot Chloe and Vanessa across the bar from you, deep in conversation. Chloe catches your eye and waves and when you return it Vanessa also turns to greet you. Once she spies Joel next you she raises a very suggestive eyebrow and grins widely, making the heat rise into your cheeks. They resume their talking, now smiling and casting occasional speculative glances in your direction.

Joel turns back to you, holding out a glass of reddish liquid and you take no small pleasure in his subtle double take when he sees you properly, his dark gaze taking you in before he passes the wine to you.

“You look…nice,” he offers.

“Thanks. It’s the lack of bloodspatter I think.”

“He snorts into his beer, almost choking on his laugh before he manages to swallow the liquid.

“Yeah, that’s gotta be it.”

He places his beer on the bar and removes his own thick coat. He looks much the same as he does day to day – you hadn’t been expecting a tux after all – but since you very much enjoy how he looks anyway, you allow your own gaze to linger briefly on the triangular patch of freckled skin that the undone top buttons allow you to see, the straining of the material across his broad chest and shoulders.

“You look good too,” you say simply and he inclines his head in thanks as he gently clinks his glass against yours. The slightly bitter taste of blackberry explodes on your tongue as you take your first sip of the wine and you both stand with your back to the bar, observing the spectacle in front of you. His arm brushes yours as he moves, and while you know it’s only accidental you still get a tiny tingle across your skin.

“So…you come here often?” he ventures and now it’s your turn to splutter into your drink.

“Smooth, Joel.”

“Look who’s talkin’. You damn near spat your drink across the dancefloor.”

“I’ll bet you were king of the cheesy pick up line in your day.”

“Thought you said I wasn’t that old.”

“I didn’t say when your day was now did I?”

“Hmmm…fine, fine, you’re pullin’ it back,” he mutters, taking another swig of beer. “But no, I never dated much. Havin’ a kid and workin’ all the time didn’t leave much over for shit like that.”

You cover your surprise and embarrassment with another gulp of wine. You hadn’t been serious with your comment and hadn’t thought it an invitation to actually get him to share anything with you. But since he had…

“It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,” you sigh. “Not that I did much of it anyway. I guess I was lucky in that regard. Got married shortly after college.”

Your hand shakes a little as you make the confession, and you cover it by taking two large gulps of wine. You can see Joel facing you in your peripheral vision, but don’t feel able to meet his eyes right now. Instead you focus on the dancing, the pairs of people moving seamlessly together round and round the floor, their happy faces bathed in the soft glow of the lights. You spot Ellie standing against the opposite wall, chatting animatedly with a tall boy with a mop of black hair and the girl you had seen earlier and then hear the empty clink of a bottle as Joel puts it on the bar. He asks the only question you have any interest in answering right now.

“Another?”

Another goes down nicely, as does the third. After getting away from the insidious topic you and Joel had been skirting around earlier, you find yourself relaxing into the night again and enjoying the conversation that flows. Tommy and Maria come to chat, as do Chloe and Vanessa. Ellie ducks in and out, appearing suddenly at your elbow as you sit atop your barstool and disappearing again just as quickly.

The evening takes on a hazy, fuzzy texture after a while and you are very aware that you are treading the line of having drunk far too much, but the alcohol and laughter buzzing through you makes you unable to care.

Do you dance, Joel?" you ask him, drunkenly.

"You askin'?"

"Pfft hell no. Trus' me, you don't want my feet anywhere near yours. You'll have bruises f'r dayyyys!" you smile. "Bu' I want you to have a good time tonigh'. Not jus' sittin' here babysittin' me. If you wanna dance, go dance."

"Oh I'm doin' just fine here," he confirms, raising his beer toward you. Tommy's the dancer of the two of us. I just sing." He suddenly clams up at your overly delighted expression.

"You siiiing?" you ask, intrigued.

"Well, sometimes," he smiles.

“ 'm gonna haveta hear you one of these days. Set up Jackson's first karaoke bar jus' f'r you."

"Aw hell no," he says fervently. "I'll take my chances on the outside if that's the way you're gonna play it!"

You giggle before taking another sip of wine, allowing yourself to look at him much more fully than you would if you were sober. His big, strong hands are picking at the edge of the rounded paper that passes for beer mats here, the movement causing muscles in his exposed forearm to twitch hypnotically back and forth. You give yourself a little shake and try to focus on conversation.

“So…where did you get your coffee hookup before me ‘s what I wanna know,” you slur at Joel, resting your hand heavily on your chin as you look at him.

“Oh, I was jonesing for a while,” he smiles.

A thought strikes you and you voice it, ignoring the slight pang in your heart as you do.

“Wha’ ‘bout Chris?”

Even in your inebriated state you notice Joel’s face darken and then the shutters come down, his eyes closing off and his smile fading to nothing.

“What about her?”

“Well when she came b’fore? I know she traded some of it las’ time she was here.”

He laughs and you detect a note of bitterness. “Trust me, she wouldn’ta traded with me.” He turns to his drink, sips it and you study him. The realisation hits you like a thunderbolt and your lack of filter at this particular time makes the words that come next unstoppable.

“Ohhh, you’re asshole Joel!” you exclaim. Heat suffuses your cheeks immediately afterward and you begin to splutter. “Fuck! I…s-shit. Shit! I’m so sorry, that wasso rude! It’s jus’ she mentioned a guy called Joel who-“

“Was an asshole?” he supplies, a wry smile curling one side of his lips.

“Well yeah but…oh Christ, fuck I’M the asshole,” you groan hopelessly.

He turns back to you and holds up a placating hand.

“I’ll forgive ya if you let me tell my side of the story,” he offers.

You bury your head in your hands. “Maybe one day I c’n talk to you without embarrassin’ myself. Today is appar’ntly not that day,” you mutter half to yourself.

Warmth covers your hand and you feel a gentle tugging. You go with it, let him pull your hand away from your face and look up at him expecting to see at least some annoyance, but there is only indulgent amusement.

“I’d seen her around a coupla times before we spoke. She wasn’t usually here long enough for me to actually get to know her. One night she came into the bar, came on to me. Very drunkenly, very loudly and very publicly. I said I wasn’t interested in the nicest way I could, but that far down the whiskey bottle she didn’t seem to understand subtlety anymore. So…I rejected her as publicly as she had propositioned me. And she did not take kindly to it.”

“Yikessss,” you replied, grimacing. “Sounds messy. I feel like I should apologise for her but um…well, uh…” You trail off and to your horror feel your chin begin to wobble.

“Hey,” Joel says softly, his eyes raking your face. “Are you okay?”

“Uhhh yup,” you manage as you take a sip of wine and swallow hard, pushing the sudden pain of her loss down inside to be released at a more appropriate time. “So uh…why did you say no? Fuck! That’s…that’s also embarassin’. Sorry. I’ll shut up…jus’…jus’ ignore me.”

He lets out a short peal of laughter. “Between the coffee and the ice skatin’ and the bein’ next door neighbours, I’m not sure ignorin’ you is an option.” His smile fades once more but his face is still kindly. “It’s ok. I understand. It’s still fresh.” You raise your eyes to his again and nod, not trusting yourself to speak this time. “Well, to answer your question, I tend not to sleep with drunk women, especially not when I’m stone cold sober. And to be honest…not my type.”

Relief that he’s not annoyed with you, mixed with inebriation makes you a little giddier than you would ordinarily be, and you let out a loud scoffing noise.

“Oh come on! Chris is everyone’s type!”

The vision of her battered face suddenly swims into your mind, lower jaw broken half off and blood marring her smooth skin as she snarled mindlessly at you before you put her out of her misery. You shudder and your breath catches in your chest as you realise what you said.

“I mean…I mean was…”

You stand up abruptly and can’t quite meet Joel’s eyes anymore for fear that you might break if you are faced with any kind of kindness or humanity at this moment.

“ ’m drunk,” you announce, entirely unnecessarily. “And ’m about to bring down the mood. I should go home.”

It’s only when you begin to walk away that you realise he is still holding on to your hand and you look down at it stupidly before looking back up at him.

“If you wanna go, I’ll walk you. Told you I’d get you home safe.”

“No, you should stay. Ellie-“

“Ellie left twenty minutes ago with her friends. They said they’d walk her home. She’s old enough and smart enough not to get herself into too much trouble in the meantime. Come on.”

With one smooth movement he stands and places your hand into the crook of his elbow, steadying your steps as you make your way outside. The freezing night air hits you with force, and you immediately feel its sobering effects. The snow crunches under your feet as you traverse the distance to your house, Joel’s warmth extremely welcome on one side of your body.

“ ’m sorry,” you mutter. “You shouldn’t haveta look after me.”

“I knew what I was signin’ up for. And so did you.” You give him a grumpy look and he laughs. “Well, you did say you wanted this.”

“Urgh, so dumb,” you murmur, already feeling the potential headache start to form.

“You think those folk in there are gonna be feelin’ good tomorrow? Just…let yourself want things.”

His words strike a chord deep within you. It’s a dangerous, dangerous idea. To want anything in this world was to leave yourself vulnerable. Avoid unnecessary risk at all costs, that was the rule. But here in Jackson it was different, wasn’t it? You could count on four strong walls, warmth, food. You could count on not being woken by terrible noises, of people trying to batter down the doors you had fortified or infected seeking you out. And maybe…just maybe…you could count on him.

“You okay?” he asks beside you. “Gone awful quiet over there.”

“ ’m good,” you reassure him. “Just…thinkin’”

Of your thighs bracketing one of his, strong, muscled arms sweeping over your back, of his lips brushing over your neck, whispering in that deep, sinful voice that he wanted you right here and right now…Christ.

You pull your mind back with an effort and realise you are almost at your door. He won’t want you, you know that. He wouldn’t when you were in this state anyway, but you’re too much of a chaotic mess in general to be an attractive prospect to someone like him. But... you also don’t want him to leave just yet.

“Will you come in for a bit?” The question sounds reedy and feeble to your ears, less of an invitation and more of a plea.

“Sure. I wasn’t just gonna dump you on the doorstep you know,” he smiles.

“Yeah I know. You’re good like that. You take care of people.” Maybe the cold hasn’t sobered you up as much as you think because part of you is aware that you’re still far too loose tongued for your own liking. “Wish I’d known you ten years ago,” you mutter. “Coulda done with someone lookin’ out for me.”

You feel his arm tense up beside you, and then slowly relax. “Naw,” he says shortly. “I wasn’t the same person ten years ago.”

“I was,” you giggle stupidly. “A fuckin’ mess then and a fuckin’ mess now.”

He stops and turns to you, placing his warm hand on your shoulder. “If you were that much of a mess, you think I’d want you hangin’ out with Ellie?”

“Fuckin’…panic attacks-” you mumble, trying hard not to focus on how close he was to you.

“So what?” he interjects. “We all got our shit. You can take care of what needs to be taken care of when it matters. And-“ he takes a deep breath and sighs it out heavily, his breath hanging white and twisting in the frozen air. “-I’m sorry if I made you think that I didn’t think you could.”

The apology wasn’t asked for and you don’t even feel that its warranted, but you get the impression that he’s not a man to apologise often or lightly.

“Thanks. And s’ok,” you slur. “I’d be wonderin’ ‘bout you too if you freaked out over a dark room in your own house.” You smile up at him and your attention is suddenly drawn by what is above his head. “Wowww,” you gasp breathily. He follows your gaze upward.

Stars. Thousands of them. Millions. Clusters and swirls and galaxies in the crystal clear winter sky above you twinkling silver and pale blue and pink, the dusty green and orange cloud of the milky way running through it all. There were so many. There were too many for you to comprehend. You crane your neck too far, and dizziness brought on by the alcohol overtakes you and makes you stagger backwards. Joel clutches your shoulder a little tighter, steadying you on your feet.

“Come on,” he laughs. “Let’s get you inside.”

With the absence of a fire burning this evening the house is cold, and you realise just how much you’re looking forward to wrapping yourself in your duvet. The stairs in front of you look like an insurmountable foe, and the thought of being cosy is the only thing that gets your feet moving clumsily up them. You half stumble and Joel catches you again, stopping you from faceplanting.

“Okay, I’m gonna come up if that’s alright? I think I’d feel better if I knew you weren’t gonna fall down the stairs.” You nod, suddenly too weary for words.”

Staggering into the bedroom, you fumble with the bedside lamp a couple of times before you manage to flick it on, half blinding yourself in the process.

“Thanks, Joel. F’r everythin’. I had fun tonight,” you say. Being in your house has sapped you of any remaining giddy excitement of the evening, and all that was left was a drunken exhaustion that only sleep could remedy. Not that you wanted him to leave, especially. You just desperately wanted to close your eyes.

Instead of taking the hint, Joel frowns as he looks down at your bed.

“Where’s your pillows and stuff?” he asks and you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the truth.

“Jus’ throw me in the tub, I’ll be fine.”

“What, you gonna take a bath now?”

“Not exacly,” you slur.

You fumble with the bathroom door and open it, showing him the nest you’ve made for yourself. He gives you a look of puzzlement and you sigh at the thought of the effort you have to expend to provide an explanation, keeping it as brief as you can when you do speak.

“House felt too big. Bed felt too big. Used to Chris nex’ to me. Can actually sleep in here. Sometimes.”

You expect an amused smile at your ridiculousness, but instead you see a flash of pity in his eyes and the wave of shame you feel is boosted to annoyance by the wine.

“Mus’ be hell on your back,” he mutters.

“S’fine. I’m makin’ it work,” you inform him tersely.

“Well…not tonight. Come on.”

Before you can argue he has scooped the pillow and duvet from the bathtub and has begun rearranging your bed for you. The annoyance you feel starts to soften around the edges into something else in the face of his concern for you and you try to pull it back, to hone it into something sharp again. You don’t want him to pity you. You don’t want him to think you’re incapable of managing your own shit. And now, perhaps, you do want him to leave.

“Joel if I’m sleepin’ in that bed, you’re stayin’ with me.”

His movements stop abruptly and he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide with shock.

“Not like that,” you protest, hands on your hips. “Mind outta the gutter…wait what’s your last name?”

“It’s Miller,” he says, emphasising the last word in a rough and slightly put-upon way as he turns back to his task and begins to shake out your pillows.

“Mind outta the gutter, Miller,” you say as if you hadn’t interrupted yourself. “If you’re so hell bent on me sleepin’ there tonight, you gotta stay. Even with half the wine stock Jackson’s got inside me, soon as you step outside ‘m gonna have to get right back in that tub.”

His hands no longer busy, he turns to you, the soft light from the bedroom lamp outlining his broad frame as he puts his hands on his hips too.

“Okay,” he says softly.

“No funny business,” you continue grandly, your brain very slow to catch up with your ears. “Clothes on, shoes off and – wait, what?”

“I said okay,” he repeats, a small smile on his face. “I can witness that hangover you were so desperate to recreate.”

You freeze where you stand. You don’t know what to do. You actually don’t know what to do. You expected him to shrug and bid you goodnight and walk away to leave you to it. You never expected him to actually agree to this. To sleep next to you. All night. To wake up next to him. With your inevitable messy hair and morning breath and puffy eyes. Not that he hasn’t witnessed that before but not like this. Not so close. Not together.

His broad form is so casually relaxed only feet away from you. How can he be this calm, how can his eyes betray such amusement when you’re screaming so loud inside? Your brain is short circuiting again and you do the only thing it will allow. You blow a raspberry at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make the coffee in the morning,” he laughs.

“You better,” you mutter darkly.

“I’m gonna go get you some water, okay?”

“Thank you,” you say in a small voice.

While he’s gone you take the opportunity to go to the bathroom, wash your face, brush your teeth and get dressed in your usual baggy t shirt that you use for sleeping in. Tonight, you add a pair of leggings but whether its to make yourself or him more comfortable you really can’t tell.

By the time you emerge from the bathroom he’s sitting on your bed and halfway through taking his boots off. You want to tell him it's okay, to not be silly, that you were only joking, that he doesn’t have to do this. You also really do want to sleep in that bed. Especially if you get to wake up next to him. So you say nothing. You allow yourself to want.

The bed itself is cold under the duvet and you shiver as you pull the covers tight around you. Joel lies down with a groan, closing his eyes and grinding his back into the mattress as he settles in.

“Uh, Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“You can…you can get under the duvet too you know. It’s…kinda cold.” Internally you roll your eyes at your unceasing ability to state the fucking obvious in front of him.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer than you find comfortable before getting into the bed properly, and relaxing back into the mattress again. You reach for the light, managing to switch it off first time this time before lying on your side away from him. The presence of another person - this person – is just as comforting as you knew it would be, and that in addition to the alcohol soon has you floating in a dreamy, near sleep.

“Hey.” Joel’s voice husks into the dark. When you turn on your other side to face him, he’s still lying flat on his back, but his face turns to you and in the dim light of the room you can see the hollows of his eyes and his facial hair standing dark against the rest of him. And you can see the smile as it spreads slowly across his face.

“I had fun tonight too.”

@thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel tlou x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou fanfic #joel tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us x reader #joel the last of us x you

[unicyclehippo]

how about 'horns' for supercorp?

she stands in the doorway. kara really doesn't know how to linger or lean or drape herself over furniture the way seduction often requires so it's fortunate for her that the mere sight of her standing there, graceless, solid, strong, is more than enough to have lena's knees buckling.

'what do you think?'

lena licks her lips. 'ah. lovely. what context?'

kara frowns. 'halloween?' she says, like it should be obvious. like she didn't just open her bedroom door standing in a red leather corset and matching pants. and horns. like she hadn't obviously been waiting for lena to arrive to do so.

lena makes a small sound. she hopes it sounds like understanding. she's been so fucking good for her whole and if there is anything like karma, like good deals in her cosmic bank, she is cashing in every one of those gold coins now - whether the coins are going to the get my brain in gear check or the let her stay in this for another hour, she isn't sure. kara's words click in her head and the confusion fades, along with a vain hope she's been harbouring.

'the devil? for halloween?' she holds up a hand to stall. this is kara. she never does anything without research. 'which devil?'

'liz hurley. bedazzled. duh.'

'you think you're liz hurley from bedazzled?' lena laughs. it's not meant to be unkind but she has to backpedal quickly when kara's expression drops. 'darling, i just mean - if you are anyone, you're - oh, what's his face.'

'brendan fraser.'

'sure.'

kara frowns. 'i want to be liz hurley. i was rick o'connell -'

'who?'

'his character from the mummy. i went as him two years ago. if i go as another of his characters, alex will make fun of me.' she braces her stance, folds her arms over her chest. a formidable frown settles across her brow, undercut somewhat by the fact that lena is trying so hard not to look at her chest that she barely sees the frown.

'alex always makes fun of you,' lena says.

kara clicks her tongue, throws up her hands. 'that's not the point! why can't i be this?' she gestures at herself again. lena focuses on the costume obediently. for a very long moment. 'lena?'

'hm?'

'it doesn't suit me, does it?' kara's shoulders droop.

'i didn't say that.'

'you're not saying it does suit me. and you're usually pretty up front about that stuff.' with a pretty pout, kara pulls the horns off her head, tosses them behind her. winces when something crashes to the floor. 'i look stupid, huh?'

'kara, no, you don't look stupid. you look...' lena bites her lip. 'different.'

'okay, i took highschool art, i know that different is just nice talk for bad.'

lena laughs. 'you don't! you don't at all, you look gorgeous,' she insists, because of course she does the very second she's not thinking about keeping it in.

kara's expression softens from where it is somewhere between uncomfortable and upset. 'you think?'

'always. and in a corset?' lena raises a brow. rakes her gaze over kara's chest and fans herself dramatically. smiles when the gesture makes kara laugh. she wishes she were a little braver, that she could convince kara that she looks - good, very good - in a way she couldn't dismiss as a joke. 'you're hot, kara, if you want to go as liz hurley's bedazzled devil then you should.'

'but?'

'but heels hurt if you wear them longer than ten minutes and leather gets hot.'

kara smiles because lena's tone is joking but her eyes are curious. 'i've worn heels before and i don't really get hot. which you know. what's the real reason?'

lena purses her lips. 'i don't mean this unkindly.' kara braces for it like a superhero, all unfairly broad shoulders and square jaw. 'you're not what i would call...seductive.'

something flashes across kara's face, too fast to pin down.

lena hurries on in case it was hurt. 'it's not a bad thing! it's just that you spend half your life trying to go unnoticed and the other half as a -' she struggles with finding the right word because warrior is true and so is good but warrior forgets that she has to be unnoticed as supergirl too, not too strong, not too frightening, not too other and good makes it sound like seduction is wrong and it isn't, it just isn't one of the tools that kara or supergirl make good use of, and so she settles on '- paragon for the city, for all of the city, and i've yet to see you talk down an enemy through flirtation,' she jokes.

kara doesn't laugh. her hands drop to her hips, one finger alternating between tapping against one of the knotted laces and stroking it, fidgety in the way she gets when she's thinking hard.

'oh,' she says finally. 'okay.'

'you're disappointed.'

'a little.' kara lifts a hand, brushes back strands of hair. the muscles of her arm bunch, the truly golden skin that covers her - all of her? - ripples.

lena's mouth goes abruptly, utterly dry. why on earth would kara need to learn seduction? why did she say any of this?

'lena?'

'hm?'

'you're good at it,' kara says, face open and earnest.

'me?' lena smiles. drops her handbag - finally - onto kara's couch and, with all the languid grace kara lacks, sits on the arm of the couch. one heeled foot drags against the smooth curve of her calf. one hand braces against the back of the couch, pushes up her own chest - not that she can compete with a corset but it's the purposefulness of the action that counts in this case. 'i don't know what you mean.'

red-faced is a good look on kara. even when she's already dressed head to toe in red.

'right, of course you don't,' she drawls. actually drawls in that midvale accent that only comes out now and again. 'will you teach me?'

her heel drops to the floor. she kicks off the second one, pretending it was on purpose.

'pardon?'

'well, i've already got the outfit and winn is going as elliott -'

'is he now.'

'- and it's only a week away which really isn't enough time to get new costumes.' kara hurries out of the doorway and stops in front of lena, stoops to collect the hand on her knee. she holds it, hands so warm, eyes so warm, boobs so propped up and obvious and right there in front of lena's face. 'please, lena, you can help me learn how to be all -' she pops her hip out to the side in a bad imitation of lena's boardroom stance and lena can't help but smirk. kara grins down at her. 'please?'

she collects herself. she collects her hand, pulls it back; she collects her eyes, removes them from kara's chest. she sighs as though she is a very put-upon good friend who has only a little time to spare and hopes that kara never finds out that the goodness of her heart has nothing at all to do with this. there are only two ways this turns out. one - kara can't learn how to be seductive and decides last minute not to go as the bedazzled devil and she pouts through halloween. two - kara learns how to be seductive the same way she learns everything else - extremely quickly and effectively - and lena never knows peace again. either way, she's doomed.

#supercorp tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill #DONT ASK WHAT I WAS GOING THROUGH WITH THIS IDEA OK #I DONT KNOW #JUST. WOMEN HOT #BRING BACK HOT RED KRYPTONITE KARA VIBES IDK