#Sometimes they bring Joe along

[regularconvexheadcanons]

Headcanon 4

Cub and Scar love stargazing. Every so often they take a ton of supplies far from society and just enjoy watching the stars, being in each other’s company, and eating cake.

Cub tried to teach Scar the names of some of the constellations, and Scar, in full Scar fashion, created his own names for them. The Big Dipper is the Dippledop, Cassiopeia is the cassiobobola, Ursa Minor is the Cubstellation (Ursa Minor = small bear = bear CUB). And sometimes Cub understands which constellation Scar means, and sometimes he doesn’t, but he accepts every single one (I mean, none of the constellations really look like cats but it makes Scar happy so yes, that bunch of stars is the Jellie Constellation). And, at the same time, Scar doesn’t understand most of Cub’s space-talk, but does love listening to Cub get excited about a topic and listens nonetheless.

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[starkwlkr]

I have such a random request but it came to me randomly and you said you were looking for DILF driver requests so here:

Any driver with an Actress!reader who is in a new movie with on screen kissing with her and another actor and reader and whatever driver you write this with have to explain to their kids, Maybe like ages 3-6, that their mom and dad still love each other and that mom was just working.

Sorry if this is complicated

Thanks 🫶

playing pretend | mark webber

i went with mark so i hope that’s ok!! also i chose free guy as the movie i know it’s not new but idk any other kid friendly movies that came out recently 😭 all i watch is horror, thrillers and documentaries

You love your job, there was no lie there. You got to play different characters and dress up in either fancy dresses or a superhero suit depending on the movie you were filming. It was an easy and exciting job, but somehow your kids were clueless. They knew their dad raced cars for a living, but their mom? They had no clue.

So one day you got an opportunity to star in a family movie with Ryan Reynolds in the movie Free Guy. You play the part of ‘Molotov girl’ or Millie, the characters actual name. Sometimes you would bring your two kids, Sage and Henry. When the day of the premiere came, you decided to make it a family event so you were joined by Mark and the kids.

After walking the red carpet and taking pictures, your little family was seated in the theater to begin watching the movie. As the movie played, you looked over at your kids to watch their reaction. They laughed and pointed at the screen when you showed up saying “look! It’s mum!”

“Yeah, that’s mum.” Mark laughed.

When your kiss scene with Ryan came up, you were nervous at how your kids would react seeing as you were going to kiss someone that wasn’t their dad. You payed attention to them and watched as they gasped when you and Ryan kissed.

“Mum! Why are you kissing him?!” Sage turned to you, her face full of confusion.

“That’s not dad!” Henry turner to Mark. “That’s not you!”

“It’s like playing pretend, Henry. Mum is playing pretend.” Mark tried his best to explain. He didn’t want to disrupt anyone around them so he talked quietly. “We’ll talk after the movie, okay? We have to be quiet right now.”

The kids understood so they remained in their seats that was until another kiss scene between you and Joe Keery at the end of the movie. It was short since right when you and Joe kissed, the movie ended right away, but that didn’t stop your kids from looking at you with even more confusion.

As promised, when you, Mark and the kids were on your way back to the hotel, you explained your job.

“So your job is playing dress up?” Sage wondered.

“Yeah, that’s it. Mommy plays dress up.” You laughed along with Mark.

“But why did you kiss someone that wasn’t daddy?” Henry asked. “Do you not love daddy anymore?”

“Honey, I love daddy more than anything. That’s part of mommy’s job. Like daddy said, it’s pretend so it was like a fake kiss.” You explained.

Thankfully, Mark had pulled up to the parking lot of the hotel and parked the car. That’s when you and Mark looked back at your kids.

“We love each other and we love you, okay?” Mark made sure they understood.

“But you don’t fake kiss?” Sage asked.

“No, daddy and i real kiss, see?” You placed a kiss on Mark’s lips as your kids yelled “ew!”

“Cooties!”

“Stop! My eyes!”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for accidentally getting a guy isolated from our friend group

We’re all in our mid 20s, and we all work together but hangout after work. Id say it’s like 10 people and 6 of are women.

We have a guy, Joe* who I’m not really keen on and because of this he’s made it his mission to try and get to know me more. Because we have to get along because we’re co workers, I just keep stuff very base level. Joe has a hard time reading the room. He often relates topic to porn/sex. You’re going to a baby shower this weekend? He’ll say something gross I don’t feel like typing. You’re looking at getting a cat? He’ll show you a video of animals doing it. So I’ve kinda put my distance between us. I’m still nice, I say hi ask him how he is, but when he does that I just kinda move on from it and not give it much attention.

Joe asked in front of everyone why I’m so weird around him because I never talk to him one on one, and I never laugh at his jokes. Since he was asking, I said “I don’t dislike you Joe, but I am uncomfortable when you bring porn into every conversation.” A few other women agreed and were a little harsher and calling him gross and to read the room.

I was personally hoping it would never be mentioned, but if I’m gonna get asked I’ll try to say it nicest way possible.

Joe was mad, said I should have said something sooner, I turned everyone at work on him. He’s been aggressive at work lately. Someone will try and correct something he did wrong per the job and sometimes he blows up and says that he just does everything wrong.

I feel like I ruined a man’s job over this.

[jooba]

wolfman x reader

"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."

TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation

wordcount: 2,388

Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).

One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too. 

In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.

“This is serious? You’re serious?” 

“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”

“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing. 

“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.

“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.

“So what?” 

“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.

“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.” 

“What?” 

“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details. 

“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest? 

“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded. 

“Of course.”

You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text. 

landing now

You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair. 

Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.

“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through. 

“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.

“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter. 

“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?

The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made. 

“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.

“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe. 

The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter. 

right in front of you. so dense.

You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.

“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!” 

Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are. 

“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…

One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare. 

“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.

“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.

“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.

“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.

“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.

“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.

“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased. 

“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. 

.

.

.

Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity. 

“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.

“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?

Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch. 

“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head. 

“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.

“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.

“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.” 

Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed. 

“Oh, okay,” you mumble. 

[starrvsn]

౨ৎ ּ ׅ ۫ ✧ 。BOYS IN THE BOAT ˚₊ ꒰ TO BE LOVED .

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

𝟒𝟏𝟏. some of the fictional characters of the boys in the boat comforting you when you’re upset. (for anyone in need of some tlc)

INCLUDES ⠆joe rantz, don hume, bobby moch, george hunt and chuck day

BOBBY MOCH ⠆

ever since you’ve started dating it had become very easy for bobby to read you, you were like an open book to him. so when he met you after practice and your sweet melodic voice didn’t greet him the second you saw him, he knew something was wrong. bobby doesn’t hesitate to start comforting you, he didn’t even need to know what was wrong from him to make you feel better. he knew the last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset so he sticks to comforting you. he hugs you; soothingly rubbing your lower back as he holds you close, his presence alone calms you down. soon he asks what had happened but doesn’t force you to tell him, he doesn’t dare to. then he’s praising you with soft compliments as he pressed kisses on your face, hair or hands. he overall just wants you to feel happy and appreciated since you do so much for him.

DON HUME ⠆

don isn’t the best at comforting people, especially people of importance so seeing you sitting in front of the piano with tears in your eyes when you looked at him, he froze. a plethora of thoughts racing through his mind as he tried to figure out was wrong but most importantly what he could do to make you feel better. he takes cautious steps towards you and kneels when he gets to his desired spot that is as close to you as possible “you alright darling?” he asks rubbing your arms comfortingly, he doesn’t say much when he’s comforting you, he lets his actions speak for themselves. you nod wiping all your excess tears away, telling him how frustrated you are over this piece you were learning. don’s heart breaks a little seeing you so upset like that, he wanted to cheer you up in anyway he could so the first thing that came to mind was the piano so he’s quick to move his hands on the keys of the instrument, playing the only song he really knew. the washington fight song; as he plays and softly sings the words— a soft smile tugs on your face as you begin to sing along, resting your head against his arm as he plays.

JOE RANTZ ⠆

he reacts instinctively. as soon as he sees you enter his dorm with a solemn face he’s already on his feet comforting you. it was every evident in your relationship that joe just wanted you to always be happy and obviously it isn’t fool proof because sometimes things get to you. he tries his hardest to always put a smile on your face and that’s exactly what he tries to do to turn your frown upside down. he takes his time because the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you more, he asks whats upset you and from how you tell him is how he differs on how upset you are. if you hadn’t said anything at all you were far too upset but if not you weren’t to upset to respond to your boyfriend. so when you didn’t reply he immediately comforted you into a hug before bringing you to his bed so can cuddle, he lays atop you while he speaks softly about how strong and lovely you are while drawing soft patterns on your arm, later he tries to make you laugh and it always works to make your mood brighter. he praises you before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

GEORGE HUNT ⠆

the second he sits beside you in the library, he felt something was off. at first he couldn’t tell but there was a certain tension in the air and when george looks over at you it’s like he could see a cloud hanging over you, he wanted nothing more than to swat it away… but of course there wasn’t a cloud over your head but he now knew you were upset. he could especially tell from how aggressively you were turning the pages of your textbook. he knew better to bombard you so he kept his distance letting your mood soften a bit, but it doesn’t stop him from glancing ever so often trying to not look over so often. but ultimately you come to him when your ready and that is when he gives you his undivided attention and all the love and comfort he can give. physical affection comes easy to george so him comforting you has become a second nature to him, even if it leads to him speaking so sweetly to you to you. he bombards you with kisses, cuddles and words of encouragement and reassurance to make sure any negative thoughts you had go away and all you can think about is him, caring less that you’re in a public place.

CHUCK DAY ⠆

like bobby; chuck can read you very easily, especially emotionally. he can tell immediately that something is wrong when he goes to pick to you up from your last class of the day; assuming you’re upset about something that happened in class. chuck tries his absolute best to get your mind off it while at the same to reassuring you and praising you as you spend your day together. in a more quieter fashion he would take you on walks to the park so you could clear your head and even open up to your lover on what had made you so upset, it concerns chuck the most because you get super quiet when your upset. he misses when your talking his ear off about your day but he knows that it’ll subside eventually and he will try his absolute best to help you feel better.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[zvdvdlvr]

The World We Knew

☢️ — synopsis. Sometimes even the Ghoul got lost in thought.

When Cooper was bored and there wasn’t anything worth shooting, he would find himself thinking of the love he had, the life he had, and the world he knew. He only let himself take a blast to the past once in a blue moon. Cooper knew that you were dead, your corpse long rotted over the 200 some years after the bombs dropped.

Admittedly this was one of the times Cooper would think of her.

The first time Cooper heard of you was after hearing your name being brought by some scriptwriters. “She’s just a young thing without much experience. We need to have a bigger name in this move, not some girl!”

The other man ‘tsk’ed. “Foolish man! I know the woman personally- not in such an inappropriate way, mind- and this would do wonders for her career! Y/n is truly a lovely thing and skilled at her trade. Just let me bring her in, Randy. Make your decision after you meet her.”

Randy sucked his teeth and massaged his temple. “Fine. A quick meeting. But when that thirty minutes is over, don’t yell at me when she’s thrown out.”

The Ghoul pulled out his canteen of miraculously clean water and took a sip. He had quietly grabbed a snack during their conversation and left without a word. Little did he know just how drastically his life would change after that conversation.

“Hello! I’m y/n l/n,” a woman greeted politely. She stuck out her manicured hand and shook Cooper’s tightly. Cooper was surprised by your firm and respectful handshake- he was used to people running up and hugging him or gushing and asking him questions.

“Well,” Cooper said as he returned your handshake. “I’m Cooper Howard, darlin’. More than happy to make your acquaintance. What brings you around… here?” He gestured to the men and women running around the movie set. He remembered your name from the overheard conversation from about a month ago. 

You just laughed. “It would appear, Mr. Howard, that I will be lucky enough to work with you. I would have gone as far as to guess the production crew would have told you? It was brought to my attention that you were aware of my arrival,” you explained. Cooper was amazed at your polite and easygoing nature. It felt wonderful to be treated like just and average Joe for once. “I’m sorry you had to find out by me, Mr. Howard. I was under the impression you were already aware of this arrangement.”

“Oh, Cooper or Coop is fine, sweetheart,” Cooper told you kindly. “And it is truly no problem. Why don’t we go and see if we can get you all situated?” To Cooper’s delight, you nodded with a grateful smile. “Well have some time left until we wrap up for the day: why don’t you tell me about yourself, darlin’?”

Heaving a sigh, Cooper lets himself kick aimlessly at a large chunk of rock. What he wouldn’t do to go back in time to just have another conversation with you…

You two had gotten alone like two peas in a pod! Weeks passed quickly and soon the movie Caught on the Tides was released. To no one’s surprise, it was a smashing hit. People apparently loved the idea of a woman who was practically immune to the male charm until Walter (Cooper) caught your eye at a local festival. It was an easygoing romance/comedy that was thankfully PG-13. As a young woman, the past roles you were offered were side pieces or basically selling yourself. You took what you could get and attempted to steer clear of the nudity.

The side celebratory party was amazing. Randy and Joseph had rented out a cozy little bar/restaurant building that had enough room for about 100 people. The other castmembers, producers, and writers were there along with quite a few guests.

As the night went on, though, you found yourself growing increasingly exhausted with all the plastered smiles and arm patting and men’s eyes dropping to your assets whenever they thought you wouldn’t notice. You slipped out a side door and dug out a smoke and a light from one of the pockets you’d personally sewn into your dress.

You had just slipped out of your heels and plopped (unladylike, of course, but no one else was there to reprimand you) when the door opened. The intrusion made you want to sigh unprofessionally loudly and hide in the puffy material of your dress. Until Cooper’s smooth voice and slim body say down right beside you.

“Some producers are lookin’ for you.” Cooper’s comment doesn’t have the sharpness your manager’s would when she hollered up a storm about your tendency to wander.

In response you only click your tongue and fill your lungs up with smoke. You turn and face Cooper, who’s complexion is lit wonderfully but the light of the full moon. “Do you think the man on the moon gets lonely, Coop?”

Cooper’s eyebrows dip downwards. “I- I’d imagine so. Can’t be too fun bein’ up there by his lonesome.”

“I think so too,” you hum. Smoke seeps out of your lips as you turn to ask him another question. “Do you ever feel like the man on the moon, Coop? I’m just- I- I wonder if I’m in over my head sometimes with everyone here, Coop, and I-“ your words stumble out of your mouth and your hands shake as you bring the cigarette to your lips again. “I just feel like… you’re the only one that knows what I’m talking about, what I’m feeling.”

Cooper stares into your teary eyes with a heavy heart. You brought out such a protective part of Cooper he hasn’t felt since… since falling in love for the first time. Cooper shook his head. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A sick part of him feels ecstatic that you are practically snuggling into his side- that you feel that he is the only one that understands. Deep down Cooper indulges himself in thinking you want him the way he wants you.

But you don’t. So Cooper is just barely content to let you lean into his side and tearfully ask for advice. “A part of that is always there, sweetheart. I feel like the man on the moon more than I’ll ever admit. But I’m also an old man who’s future is practically set in stone. You, though,” he chuckled and patted your side. You seeped into him and Cooper felt adrenaline rush through his veins. He could smell your delicately scented shampoo and matching body wash. “You could have any man on Earth you wanted, darlin’. Only a fool wouldn’t fall for you.”

You sighed and snuffed out your cigarette. Every part of you told you to leave him alone- to leave whatever relationship you have with him alone because he’s married (and you’d rather die than ruin your friendship). But being tucked under his arm and hearing the speed of his heartbeat made you think he felt the same as you. “Coop?”

Cooper looked back down at you. “Hm?”

“Are you a fool?”

Cooper’s heart raced. Your powerful gaze seemed to dig into his soul, searching for the answer he’d be damned to hell if he never gave you. “Do you take me for a fool, darlin’?”

You swallowed. “No, Cooper. Never.”

Within seconds, Cooper found his lips pressed against yours. He felt like exploding into a ton of confetti. His other hand came to cup your cheek and take dominance of your mouth. The passion Cooper felt was like none other and your breathless whimpers only encouraged him.

“Cooper…” you murmured, sitting up and grasping st the nape of Cooper’s neck. You felt perfect.

Cooper closed his eyes. He stood outside a familiar house. He figured he would stay here for the night. Cooper had already cleared, secured, and set traps around the building whenever he knew he’d be back.

Heaving a sigh, Cooper settled down on the bed and tilted his hat down over his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” Cooper muttered after wrapping a hand around your waist. “Got another birthday party and then I’m all yours, baby doll.”

The fall from fame was hard on everyone but Cooper refused to let it affect your career. He only saw you in professional settings and when no one saw you enter or leave his house. 

“Manager’s giving me the day, so I’ll be here all day if you don’t mind,” you said, scooping out cherry pie filling from the can to your mouth with a spoon. Frank Sinatra’s hauntingly low voice crackled through the radio, painting a scene Cooper wanted to commit to memory forever.

Cooper just shrugged. “Up to you,” he said. “How do I look?”

You tilted your head and slid off the counter. Your hands came up to adjust the collar of Cooper’s blue cowboy shirt. Then they slid down to his lapels to smooth back. “Perfect. Ready to roll, cowpoke,” you joked.

His soft eyes stopped you in your tracks. “Why’re you looking at me like that, Coop?”

“Like what?” Cooper asked. His tone was teasing but you noticed a hint of the seriousness that had grown on him as of late.

You shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Coop. Like… like you love me, I suppose.”

Laughter filled the room, drowning Sinatra’s eerie song. “‘I suppose’?”

You shook your head with laughter. “I don’t want to overstep right now, Coop.”

The mood turned quiet again at your words. Cooper took your face in his hands and rested his thumbs under your eyes. “You don’t overstep, sweetheart. Speak your mind. Always.”

“I will. Promise,” you replied solemnly. Cooper pulled your face up to his and kissed you gently.

“I’ll be home later, sweetheart. Promise.”

You grabbed your spoon and the cherry pie filling before fallowing Cooper outside. The cool grass felt good on your bare feet as you watched Cooper mount his horse. When he looked back at you, Cooper broke out into laughter at the sight of you raising our eyebrows suggestively. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart, and then we can get busy.”

You muttered something along the lines of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ before nodding with a comically dejected expression. “Alright. Bye Coop. Be safe!”

Cooper tipped his hat at you. “I will, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, now.”

Cooper could have sworn he heard you call out ‘I love you’ as he rode away. In fact, Cooper would have sworn on his life that you had said you loved him. But Cooper would just come home to you and hear you say it clearly when he got home.

If he got home.

200 years later, Cooper heard Frank Sinatra singing “over and over, I keep going over the world we knew” and wished he would have told you he loved you back.

[usedpidemo]

Awards after-party affair (Itzy Yuna)

Like a ringing bell at the top of the hour, the signal is loud, instant, and right on time. One eager attendee catches the first van roll onto the red carpet entrance. He makes the call like it’s routine, alerting everyone else for an invasion—a visual attack is about to happen. 

“They’re here!” 

You’re no different from the rest of this eager crowd. You stop whatever you’re doing—in this case, fiddling with your handheld camera—to redirect your gaze in the same direction as everyone else. Despite how little in common you share with these people, you’re all in perfect sync, like this has all been practiced and choreographed a thousand times. From the front seats come out two imposing men: one serving as driver and the other as manager/bodyguard. The driver slides open the door. Though they’re only silhouettes, shadows that are unassuming, it’s enough to make the masses scream their lungs out.

See, you’re not a fan. To you, you’re only doing a job. It pays remarkably well and creates jealousy to anyone whenever you bring it up in conversation. At this point though, you’re completely callous to the experience and share the same amount of displeasure as an average joe working a 9-to-5. The ordeal of covering numerous award shows, red carpets, and press junkets from week to week—sometimes two events in a single day—serve as more of an endless assault on your senses and test of patience with everyone, and this is no different. Sure, it’s a rare privilege to meet all kinds of larger than life stars, but dealing with their bitchy PR managers is a whole other affair.

It’s late in the afternoon, the sun at its apex right before descent, without a single cloud in sight, and you’re fucking dying of dehydration. It doesn’t help that there's cafes perched on nearly every corner you look, and an iced drink never looked so mouthwatering. Even if you wanted a teeny-tiny sip, you can’t. You have no power to, because as trivial as it is compared to other events you’ve attended, everything’s on the line. Your editors need the scoop to regurgitate the same old content produced by almost every other media outlet patiently waiting in line, too. 

The truth is: it’s always been the same old same old since day one. Really, there’s little that crosses the line from both the interviewer and interviewee. It’s always the safest option, the cleanest question. Nothing goes beyond that; no one’s willing to step beyond that arbitrary boundary, even if it’s to spice up the headlines once in a while. No wonder your publication, along with many others, resorts to shady gossip and misleading articles with poor, if not any supporting evidence.

Still, you’re already there, and there’s nothing to lose in the long term—except a few hours of your time. 

One by one, both actors and idols alike hop off their black vans, wave to the crowd, speak to a few junkets in line, then head inside. Extra time willing, they take a couple of pictures with the screaming audience or some lucky fan. The entire process moves by in a robotic and formulaic way, it reinforces the negative stereotypes critics have about the industry—and you’re quietly one of those detractors. Nevertheless, you put aside your personal judgment, and follow along, the several dozens of photos you’ve taken of every star on the carpet as proof of your professionalism. 

The endless stream of appearances from both small and big names continue for at least another hour. Celebrity vans line up bumper-to-bumper to continue dropping more off; it might as well be a delivery store of people’s dreams. Out comes the next anticipated set of stars, another indistinguishable five-member girl group, all dressed in black. Your trigger fingers take as much as they can, as fast they can. The end result is several individual and group shots added to your camera roll, probably some of your best so far, as they are conveniently positioned right in front of you—at the center of your lens—compared to almost everyone else. Take another look at a few of the pictures you took, and you notice they’re staring right at you. 

Even as the red carpet wraps up, you don’t really think much of it. Inside, you’re called backstage, along with your fellow media representatives, where it’s basically a rinse and repeat of what happened outside, with longer, more forgiving intervals. At least you can finally rest your tired legs, and unlike the red carpet, where it’s a nonstop barrage of action, commercials actually give you, and the other journalists by extension, more room to breathe—the only positive ads will ever have for humanity.

Similarly, winners line up backstage after claiming their trophy and giving their typical, routine speech. Arriving at a room filled with nothing but media, they answer a different but familiar set of sanitary questions, then go back to their seats. The pacing difference between awards proper and red carpet is night and day, like hitting traffic at rush hour. Most of the time, everyone’s eyes are glued to the widescreen television while the show plays out, and it’s no different from a viewer watching at home. The energy inside the cramped room is laid back and relaxed; at times you forget you’re at an awards ceremony and not your local bar.

Really, it’s only the celebrities themselves who are in a hurry, speaking to the press like they’re rapping, tapping their feet like they haven’t stopped dancing, clear in their intention to leave in a hurry, which is the most relatable they can be with their audience. Most winners appear only once, with a few exceptions. The seven boys you see almost everywhere in Korea, even more so globally—make the most frequent returns, even closing out as the recipient of the grand prize, and their exit means everyone in the media is done for the night, too.

You should be going home by now. It’s getting late, and you’re practically done, except not really. As is tradition, there’s always a few afterparties being thrown around in celebration, and to your annoyance, you have to attend one. To make things worse, you’re not there to have fun and get wasted—not in the slightest. You’re there to take some more photos and get additional quotes, according to your superiors’ orders. There’s no added incentive or bonus in return for a few more hours of your time that could have been spent in more productive activities or resting for the next day, but you still power on because your job is never truly stable. One missed opportunity, one stolen scoop, and next thing you know, you’re being shown the door.

The lounge you end up going to might as well be a goddamn rave. Flashing lights, bodies crowding up the dance floor, deafening bass-boosted music blasting through the many speakers—it’s the most torturous parts of the job crammed into one colorful, insufferable hellhole. It’s less of a place where celebrities hang out and more of a grimy hangout where needy, desperate mad men and women look to get fucked. Before entering, you check the address and location on your phone. Perhaps there’s been a mistake, and you were given incorrect information. Nope. The text you receive from your supervisor reconfirms the location. Inside, you also find a few other journalists suffocating under the same toxic air like you. 

Squeezing between drunk bodies, mindlessly dancing like there’s no tomorrow, you sneak to the spacious bar, a temporary reprieve from the ear-splitting, soul-crushing madness. Whipping out several paper bills from your pocket, you slide them forward on the counter, mumbling to the barista your desired drink. At this point, you’d take anything, as long as it makes the rest of the night bearable.

“I’ll take two of what he’s having.” A feminine voice interjects, more bills than yours twirled between her fingertips, and the barista accepts her payment instead, overturning yours and sliding your money back.

From the blurred reflection on the counter, you swing your gaze to the right. A cute, young woman in a black, slinky dress takes the unoccupied seat beside you, flashes you an eye smile and cheeky grin back. 

“Sup,” she says, casually, like you’re two friends hanging out together. “Didn’t expect you to show up here as well.”

“Wait.” With furrowed brows, you point a finger at her. She looks awfully familiar, but you can’t really tell her apart from the countless well dressed people you’ve been seeing for hours on end. “Aren’t you from—”

“Oh? You interviewed me earlier!” 

Her answer doesn’t provide a single hint or narrows down who. You’ve taken countless pictures of different girl groups, and your lack of investment towards any of them means they’re basically indistinguishable in your eyes. Still, she looks young enough to be a member from one of the more junior groups. 

“Yeah, none of this is adding up.”

“Yuna? Shin Yuna? Does that name ring a bell to you?”

“Oh, of course it does!” Her name rings a few bells, but still, you’re not confident enough to confirm, and it shows in your tone. “Itzy, right?”

She nods positively, brimming with joy at the mention of her group’s name. “Yep yep!”

“Well, congrats on the award again,” you reply, reaching out your hand as a friendly gesture. You don’t really remember what award her group won or how many trophies they won, nor do you have the willpower to care, but a little kindness goes a long way. “You had a great performance as well.”

“Thanks!” Smiling toothily, Yuna bows while reciprocating your motion, meeting halfway for a respectful handshake. Her grip tightens for a brief moment before quickly pulling back. “I appreciate your comment.”

Timely. The barista returns to you with two drinks you forgot you ordered. She takes them both, hands you one, and you both raise your glasses to the sky before clinking them together. 

“Cheers.”

With hearty spirits, you take a little sip from your drink, while Yuna downs a quarter of her beverage.  The sweet taste elicits a cheery, wide smile on her lips, compels her to down more. After only the second swig, half of her drink is gone. Both of you can’t be more different when it comes to enjoying alcohol; you’re one to ease into it slowly, while she rushes into the feeling. Then you take note of the fact that she looks quite young—she’s the youngest of her group, in fact—having just come of age, and drinking appears to be a fresh concept to her. No wonder she looks so enthusiastic and pumped about indulging liquor.

“So,” Yuna places her glass on the counter with an audible thud and peeps you with comically wide, childlike eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Not much,” you say, casually, as you stare at the stainless glass and the yellow liquid contained within. Its bubbliness fascinates you, captures your scrutiny like it’s the most interesting thing around, like a work of art in an exhibit. “I should be the one interviewing you, and to get some more information.”

“Information about what?” 

“I don’t know. Something to fill up the paper, I guess.” You inch the drink closer to you, inspecting it from top to bottom like some type of rare artifact—something to occupy your idle, bored mind. 

“You make it sound like you’re spying on us,” retorts Yuna, playfully resting her chin against her clenched fist leaning on the table. Her eyes take a cursory look, examining you from head-to-toe, finding something around your chest that intrigues her. “I mean, good try though.”

“It’s not that kind of information,” you reply, aware that it’s spoken with hyperbole, but still, there’s a difference between safe, journalistic reporting and straight-up criminal stalking. 

“You’re really terrible at this tabloid job, you know?” mocks Yuna, poking her finger at the camera partially hidden behind your coat. On her lips is a cocky, teasing smirk, with the clear intent to toy with you. She’s leaning closer, eager to watch your expressions crumble little by little. “It’s like you’re begging for information.”

If only she weren’t so cute and innocent in how she goes about it, you’d probably wave the white flag, give up halfway, and profess—or straight up leave.

“And is that supposed to dissuade me?” says you, flatly, completely unbothered. Your eyes make contact with hers, staring at her with a piercing leer. Instead of being intimidated, her smile widens, and her shiny teeth are blinding; she knows she’s caught you under her trap, slowly pulling on your most sensitive strings, and her words have a subtle effect on you. 

“If it could, yes,” replies Yuna, peering through your gaze with widening eyes, looking at you with heightened intrigue, unfazed by your shallow threat. “But since you’re so determined and stubborn to get some information for that shitty paper of yours, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Do tell.” 

Suddenly, she tears her gape away from you, turns her head left and right for any crossing sign, then back at you with a wider, suspicious smirk. “Not here.”

—————

You expected her to take you to a peaceful location, like the back rooms or one of the many uninhabited private booths. For someone like her, a K-pop idol, surely there’s a van waiting for her outside, ready to depart on call. 

A bathroom stall was far from it.

The moment she stood up, walked away, then looked back with a different, expressive glance, that was an open invitation for you. Forget about the fact that she’s an idol and a celebrity first; in those caramel eyes was a glance that was forbidding and scandalous, but alluring enough to draw you in without a moment of hesitation. Not once you questioned where she was leading you. You trailed closely behind, drinking in the young starlet’s hourglass figure, perfectly shaped for a skintight dress that made her stand out from everyone in the crowd. With such dreamlike beauty walking in a sea of commoners, you thought all eyes would be on her, as usual, but the opposite happened—it was you who became hypnotized by her.

Eventually, you both sneak past everyone, which proves to be relatively trivial, locking yourselves together inside an empty bathroom secluded on the club’s second floor. Yuna looks around the spacious restroom for possible occupants, only to find every one of the five available stalls completely unoccupied. Despite how hidden you are from the rest of the party, the music echoes loud enough to pass through the walls.

“Perfect,” she says, taking another scope then to the widescreen mirror, possibly referring to the setting, and to herself. She looks at her reflection with a confident, proud grin, and your suspicion is proven correct. “I’m pretty sure you know where this is going, right?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, nodding. Two people, alone in a bathroom. You know damn well what’s about to happen.

This isn’t the first time a star has offered themselves to you behind closed doors. It’s an industry secret, but open news shared among most publications and certain names that get around. It’s these private affairs where most of the money comes from. Each incident generates revenue in exchange for keeping such filthy secrets classified and hidden. Can’t say you’re clean or innocent in the issue; you’ve had a few experiences with some of Korea’s biggest film stars in exchange for money too, but this is your first time with a K-pop idol, and they say they’re the ones who are deepest in the circle.

“Good, I guess I don’t have to tell you how fucking horny I am,” says Yuna, casual in her delivery of such shocking filth. “And the rumors are true,” she continues, flashing you a flirtatious wink. Her fingers play with the straps holding her dress together, dragging them along her shoulders.

“That you’re a slut?” 

“We’re all sluts, baby,” she replies, approaching you with a seductive gaze that can render anyone paralyzed, and you’re no exception. With a cute, fresh face like hers, It’s unbelievable and quite frankly dumbfounding how leisurely she says it, like it’s the norm for everyone in her profession—and it’s sufficient evidence to prove that case. Then again, she’s still a teen, and you’re on the edge of a really dangerous line. Sure, having sexual favors with anyone in the entertaiment industry is already a line crossed, but this is a whole layer below with far more grave implications, and here she comes, forcefully dragging you far beyond the point of no return. Really, with your line of work, this was bound to happen eventually, but you never expected it to come from such an unexpected person—a Korean idol, your least favorite kind of celebrity.

But this is the moment where all of that changes.

“Still have some battery left in that camera, right?” Yuna points at the handheld camera dangling freely on your chest again. “Go and take some.”

You incorrectly predicted her to jump right into the action, but you’re not bothered in the slightest. You were already taking a gallery’s worth of mental pictures of her sexy body, made hotter by her deliberate, seductive teasing, but having a physical reference for future personal use is helpful too. 

So you pull the camera from its strap to take photos of the frisky maknae while she does many poses for you. Even behind a lens, her beauty is so ethereal, it doesn’t compare in the slightest to looking at her with the naked eye. She exudes a perfect balance of cute and sultry, a trait you’ve rarely seen among the many actors and actresses you’ve met before. Perhaps this is the greatest strength of an idol, and you’re left wanting more. 

Yuna then approaches you, occupied taking as many pictures you can of the idol, running your remaining memory dry. She drops to her knees, looks at you with those wide, inviting eyes, and her fingers wrap around the edges of your pants.

“Don’t stop,” she says, pouting her lips upward, in the direction of your camera to emphasize her command, and you know you can’t do otherwise. Photography isn’t in your skill set, yet she trusts you with her life—her career—and there’s pressure beginning to amount in your head. Surely she’s not that desperate to the point where she’s asking a random journalist to get her quick fill of excitement.

The spark in her eyes, the determination on her brows, and the carefree smile on her lips—this isn’t her first rodeo, and it certainly won’t be her last. 

Yuna turns her attention away from your curious, troubled gaze to your pants, unzipping the hindering garment down while you continue capturing every still, every frame of the young woman in such a vulnerable, lewd position. These photos would spell disaster should they ever leak out of this room, and it’s even more dangerous when it’s a young group, a rising name who has a stake on the global stage. Even so, you continue snapping photos at her request, fingers pretty much playing a single repeating key on the trigger, you might as well have glued your index to the button.

“I knew it,” she murmurs, the erect tent on your groin area poking into view. Seconds later, your boxers join your pants on the floor, springs your cock free from its clothed prison. “I’m gonna have a lot of fun tonight. I don’t know what the other girls are doing, but they’ll regret not being here. It’s fine, I don’t feel like sharing this.”

With your hard cock next to the pretty, demure idol, your involvement can’t be any more obvious. Yuna immediately notices the sudden quietness of the camera, so she looks up at you again, notes your flushed cheeks, the little beads of sweat forming on your head, and giggles. 

“Really now?” she says, lifting a puzzled eyebrow, fingers slowly gripping around your shaft. You try to resist, show a little opposition, but it’s superficial; before long, you can’t hold in the jolt of pleasure coursing through your nerves and utter a low, muffled moan. “You’re perfectly fine with taking sensitive pictures of me, but you’ll say no to this? You’ve said it yourself. I’m a slut—a slut for good cock.”

Her soft, dainty tongue latches onto your tip, rendering you more speechless. Can’t say she’s wrong, and telling her otherwise would make you look worse. Bodily ecstasy makes your senses go haywire; your hands struggle to hold the camera, but you manage to save all that important material with one hand and let the other wander down to caress and stroke her long, auburn hair. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to take in the sight of Yuna kissing and pumping your cock, and the knot in your tongue loosens, releasing delicate, breathy moan after moan.

It’s clear that Yuna’s done this before, experienced with the art of sexual pleasure, like it’s her primary line of profession, and she knows all the tricks and weaknesses to get to the core of any man or woman. At this point, you’ve practically neglected her demand, but the soft, intimate kissing sounds she makes as she revels in your cock give you a solid reference point to take more mental pictures of her. The camera in your grasp has been set aside on the sink. Both of your hands grip on the young woman’s brown locks, straddling a line between gentle and assertive as she gradually takes your length into her mouth.

“F-fuck, Yuna—” you mutter, having difficulty to formulate words, forcing your brain to resort to moans and grunts like a baby.

She doesn’t react or budge in the slightest; she only works harder and harder. The idol remains steadfast, filling her mouth up to your base, generously coating your shaft with her saliva. Her fingers dig into your thighs, pressing you harshly against the sink as your moan turns into an echoed groan. The quick burst of pain you feel is overtaken by the continuous pleasure flowing throughout your veins, like sexual indulgence is the only thing your body understands. 

You try to fight your overwhelmed senses, hoping to catch even a tiny glimpse of the beautiful woman giving you the best blowjob in the world, and it proves to be an intense struggle. Not once are you cognizant about tossing the idol’s head back and forth, even with the audible, echoey plop plop sounds raising several warning flags saying you’re too aggressive. Eventually, you manage to lift one eye open to see Yuna, completely immersed in her own pleasure, diligently sucking your cock while mixes of drool and precum splatter on her chin, her collarbones, and down to her black dress, leaving even more apparent hints for everyone to see.

In the end, it’s only you who gets to look at the different, ruined side of Yuna. Here’s a popular star, larger than life in the eyes of many, down on her knees, subservient to the most human and primal urges, just like anyone else. A wave of cum gushes into her mouth right as she releases your cock like spilled milk. Your burst of seed waterfalls, filling her chin and her dress with a dirty, sticky coat of white. Her eyes pop open, surprised at how filthy she looks, and how early she made you cum.

“Oh God,” says Yuna, pressing a hand on her glistening chin, then to her dress top. Gooey strings connect her fingers and the expensive, messed up fabric. “I made you cum early didn’t I?”

You’re catching heavy breaths, looking up at the ceiling, staring at the blinding lights like you’re seeing heaven. You might as well be; she ripped your soul out of your body with only her tongue.

“Shit, Yuna, I—”

Returning to her mischievous ways, her laughter echoes throughout the bathroom, poking fun at your overwhelmed state, like it’s the first time you’ve had sex. She’s proud of herself for making you cum with a mere blowjob, and she flicks her digits to coat them with more of your seed as her reward. Lapping them up into a sizable sample, she takes her fingers into her mouth for a taste.

“Yeah.” She rises to your level, licks her fingers clean, decorates her pink lips with your seed with a wide, charming, cheeky grin. Your marks are prominent on the grooves of her lips. “You’re so yummy.”

Lowering your gaze back down to earth, you finally see the ravaged mess you’ve done to Yuna. Spurts of white on her face, neck, and many puddles that have stained her dress. Seeing the utter disbelief in your expressions, she plays into the naughtiness by pressing her cum stained fingers on her inviting, visible cleavage.

With a free hand snaking down to your crotch, she pumps you back to hardness, holding a steady gaze of lust with you, the fire in her loins freshly renewed. “I know you want more. I want more.” Her other hand reaches to one strap, pulls it further down her arm, then does the same with the remaining cord, freely exposing her sizable breasts, drawing your eyes toward her chest. It’s difficult to look away, especially when someone like her knows how to captivate with a face like hers, natural with how expressive she is, only because she allowed you to stare elsewhere.

You gasp and sigh under the tight duress Yuna puts on your groin, giving her more confidence and a stronger hold on you. Grasp her bare shoulder with one hand, wander around her waist with the other, carefully crossing the lines of fabric and skin until you reach her surprisingly round ass. Her features slowly melt and eyes widen as she leans her face close, breath tensing up in anticipation, lips repressing her groan, practically whispering to you, “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Yuna’s eyes pop out, caught unawares as you take her body and flip your positions around. She's now pressed against the bathroom sink with you assuming control. Her hands hold onto your shoulders, still fixated to your eyes like she sees stars within them. With the strength of your hand gripped to her ass, you lift her up partially so that her feet no longer touch the ground, and her legs slowly part, giving you an opening. Your other hand ruffles through her short skirt, digs into her tunnel, and she winces.

“Oh, fuck—” Her nails dig into the fabric of your shirt as you feel a slick, wet sensation on your fingers. Her features are so expressive, they’re best actress worthy. She shudders, teeth gritting intensely as you withdraw your digits. In an instant, her calm, confident attitude fades at your slightest touch, and she grows impatient and desperate. “Give me your cock now! I need you to fill me—”

You capture her lips in a passionate, fervid kiss, shutting her up as a distraction while you line your erect cock between her sopping cunt. She whines into the smooch, tries to break away, but you pull her in, let your tip run up and down around her wet entrance, and she hums musically. In turn, she pushes you as close to her as humanly possible; you might as well be practically inside her. Her lips curl into a frown as she pushes her dress further down, bunching it with the bottom of her skirt, her now naked, sweaty midriff pressed against your shirt.

Drawing your face away from hers, you take a second to admire the spry starlet, once dolled up to near perfection, now as filthy and human as the typical clubgoer. She doesn’t reciprocate your adoring gaze, annoyed at the small amount of time wasted, when that time could have been spent already impaling yourself deep inside her. It’s not like you’ve spent the whole day salivating and taking pictures of her.

“Wait.” Avert your eyes from the idol to the camera you’ve forgotten for a moment. She kisses you madly, showering your cheeks with wet, soppy marks filled with lipstick and sticky cum, but it doesn’t faze you in the slightest. You know simple distractions don't bother you by now. 

Camera pointed at you both, you return your attention to her, finally giving her what she wants without any further delay. With a single smooth stroke, you plunge your cock into her wet pussy, and it flexes right back in a brief move of resistance, but you push deeper into her heat and it takes the breath right out of your lungs. 

“F-f-fuck, Yuna, you’re—tight.”

The spry woman lifts her head back, exposes her smooth, flawless neck, uttering a long, breathy sigh before it turns into a pitched whine. Her nails poke into your nape, clutches deep into your skin, body sliding up and down along with your cock as you acclimate to the suffocating tightness of her cunt. There’s no sense of rhythm or pace in the manner you pound her, only focused on chasing that sensual high, using her model figure as canvas for your pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s—” Yuna whines with each slam of your hips, slack jawed and drooling, eyes completely shut, enveloped under the gripping force of your cock spearing her tight, sensitive hole. “Your cock feels so—”

Her sentence fades into another series of whimpers and cries of bliss. Seeing her tits bounce and ripple with each rock of her body arouses you, and they draw you in, more than any other part of her. Yuna’s body was an open invitation for you to take, which you gladly do. 

Bury your face between her chest, cupping her soft, creamy flesh within your grasp, then take her taut nipples into your mouth, going back and forth between both breasts, giving them the equal amount of attention they rightfully deserve.

You continue to fuck the maknae into submission, giving the camera a good show, already more entertaining and exciting after only a few minutes than a four-hour-long awards ceremony. The artist is treated way better, and so is the cameraman by being an active participant in the action, dictating the pace the way he sees fit. As it goes, you push yourself quicker and quicker, trying to wrap up the show, plunging deep into her constricting walls, drenching your cock with more of her wet juices. 

The many expressions she makes as you touch her and ruin her are award worthy; they can belong in a fancam reel and it wouldn’t be any more different. Hell, she’s more provocative and intense than her typical routine music performance. Her features curl into almost every emotion a human can experience, from pain and pleasure, evoking a strong, unforgettable image, another mental picture to save in your memories, more detailed than any photograph. 

Then there’s the sound—the music is as loud as ever, blocking out the endless stream of cries she makes. Yuna’s tone is high-pitched, moaning out a blissful song as you stretch her pussy out, with the little flap of wet skin against skin backing her up, and it tickles your ears in all the right spots. 

You slide a finger from her breast to her crotch, feel the surging wetness coat your digit, then lower her to the floor—but only for a moment. While Yuna remains staggered in ecstasy, you turn the woman around, facing the mirror, before you reacquaint your cock inside her drenched cunt, and it’s like you never stopped fucking her. She moans, and moans—and moans.

“You’re so fucking hot, Yuna,” you whisper in her ear. Her back arches as you wreck her from behind. Staring at your reflection, you note your smug expression. For once, you look really good in the mirror, especially with the woman in front of you. 

Her expressions say it all: she likes being fucked. The way her smile briefly flashes before melting between thrusts, she knows her body is built for sex—perfect for a slut like her. Even she can’t help but look proud at how drop dead gorgeous she is, especially in that lewd, erotic position. 

Using her expressive, satisfied face as motivation, you piston quicker and quicker, glancing at the young idol flaunting her many charms off like she’s in front of the cameras, like the bright lights are on her, like an audience is watching her. Your mind is centered on her too; in fact, she’s the only one in your thoughts, with each thrust intended to make her sing, make her perform, make her act. 

“Gonna—gonna—” she cries, hoarsely, barely able to muster up the strength to formulate coherent speech. 

“Cum on my cock Yuna,” you say, whispering in her ear again, pulling on her triggers. “Cum on my cock.”

The words are more than enough to set her off. Yuna’s mouth goes wide, forming an ‘O’ shape, her body going rigid and quaking as she loses control of herself to her bliss. She orgasms; it’s powerful and lengthy, dragging you further into her inescapable whirlpool, and really, it only accelerates your own forthcoming climax, and you fuck her as she rides out her peak, savoring the remaining time you have left before you drown in your own high as well.

“I can feel you throbbing hard for me,” she says, completely washed over by her own dwindling orgasm. “Cum in me. Cum for this slut. Don’t ever think about pulling out of this wet pussy meant for you!”

Gripping your hands between her dirty chestnut locks, you try to resist a little more, show that you can last longer than she initially thought, but ultimately give in for a second time. On a deep, violent stroke, you make a lengthy, incomprehensible sound that might as well be the relief you feel after holding in that burning sensation in your loins. You release hot spurt after spurt into her pussy, her name dripping from your lips like you’re thanking God for release, and you feel a sticky, gooey tingling on your thighs.

Eventually, your hips wind down along with your orgasm, until they come to a full stop. You rest your head forward, laying on the sink beside her, still embedded inside her. The moans that filled the room fade in the background of the club’s thunderous music, but both of you are oblivious and tired to hear anything except for deep, heavy breaths.

After an uncertain period of time—could have been a few minutes or a few hours, you have a timely day off tomorrow, so it’s the least of importance—you come to your senses first and check on the camera you’ve set on the side. Yuna follows shortly after, washing her hands clean, but it doesn’t cleanse her of her filth.

“So?” she says, trying in vain to look neat. She looks at the camera in your hand while you scan through the reel. “How do I look?”

You present the gallery to her, showing her every single ilicit and raunchy photo you’ve taken of her, until you get to the part where you reveal that you’ve recorded yourselves having sex. It’s crude, it’s pornographic, it’s perfect.

She pouts her lips, gives an approving nod. “We look so good together. I need you to send me these via email.”

“Of course,” you say, nonchalantly—like this is a completely regular exchange—like she’s not an idol and you’re a journalist with an integrity to uphold, but all that’s thrown out the window now. “When I get on my computer tomorrow.”

After you both clean up to the best of your abilities, Yuna gestures at you to wait as she unlocks the bathroom door, then slowly turns the knob. Not once has it knocked and distracted you. Maybe you’ve missed a few, but still, it was probably drowned out by the music and the moaning. As a result, you were left unbothered the entire time, so perhaps Yuna’s plan was foolproof right from the start—

“Hey!” 

Yuna’s eyes grow wide in shock, followed by yours. On the other side of the door are four women waiting, well dressed as she is, who look just as surprised as both of you. 

“Who’s that guy you’re with?” asks the woman with dragon-like eyes, tone expressing disappointment at her member. Her gaze is similar to Yuna’s, studying you from head to toe like she did.

Then they all say in unison, “And why weren’t you sharing him with us?”

(A/N: Yuna looked incredible in that dress she wore for The Fact Music Awards, and the fact she's sharing so many pics makes it even better. Surprised there's nothing based on this material, but I understand why. Boys Like You is really good, go stream it! Thank you for reading!)

[sweetprfct]

The Wanderers

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe tend to wander every time he was in a foreign city but that was because you both love the adventure. However, Alex, his manager, was not too amused about that.

Author's Note: This is a re-publish one shot from my old deleted blog. I know this idea was inspired by the other fics here in tumblr where Joe can't seem to stay in one place and rumors in twitter about it whenever they meet him in the cons? I actually forgot, but I know the idea derived from those little talks. Anyway, enjoy! :)

Wordcount: 2.5K

“So, when were you going to tell me that you were going to bring her?” 

You heard Alex scold Joe quietly at the hotel lobby. Joe had decided on his own just the other day that it was a good idea for you to tag along with him in Paris for a week. He had a convention to do for two days and some interviews and photoshoot for Dior, so why not bring his biggest supporter with him? That was you. 

You admit that you could be a bad influence towards Joe when it comes to not being able to focus on his work and that was why Alex, his manager, had come to the conclusion that whenever Joe wanted to bring you, he should tell him first. Not like it was Alex’s business, but the man wanted to be prepared whenever the two of you wandered off somewhere else. It stressed Alex out all the time, not knowing whether the two of you would come back or not. Of course, you both always did. 

Well, except that one time. 

In both of your defense, you both didn’t know that Joe was scheduled for three days— not two— in the London Comic Con, and well— you both decided that it was a good idea to run off to Italy right after his second day to get some peace and quiet after two hectic busy days. Joe loved his job. He really did but sometimes, he just needed some space and some quiet time. What could be better than by doing it with you? You, after all, also loved to explore different things and places. It was why you two had clicked. It was why this relationship always kept the both of you on your toes. 

“Right now?” Joe scrunched his nose as you tried to hold in your laugh. “I’m telling you about it right now, aren’t I?”

Alex didn’t say anything. All he did was gave Joe a look and then turned his head to you, giving you a glare also. You bit your lower lip and gave him a small smile. Joe hated it when you were part of these kinds of conversations, so you always stood in the corner and let the two lads do their thing. Though, you always could hear those little whispers about you. 

Alex sighed and shook his head. “You know what? Fine. But you have two days for this comic con this weekend and I need you bright and early on Tuesday morning for the Dior photoshoot.” 

“Got it.” Joe nodded his head and walked towards where you were.

“And Joe…” Alex stopped the both of you in your tracks. 

Joe looked over his shoulder, brows raised as Alex said, “Don’t even try wandering off anywhere in Paris. There is a lot of media around the city this week.” 

“Okay.” Joe held in his smile before intertwining his fingers with yours. 

Alex watched as the two of you laughed quietly, making your way into the elevators. Joe gave Alex a small wave before the elevator doors closed completely. You couldn’t help but bury your face in his neck and laughed. 

“He hates me, you know that?” You mumbled. 

Joe laughed softly, wrapping his arms around you. “Well, I love you, so Alex can fuck off.”

You laughed as you leaned in to kiss him softly on his lips. As soon as the elevator doors opened, you both made your way to his hotel room and the moment Joe closed the door behind him, he quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled you into the air, letting out a squeal from you. 

“Joe!” You laughed as he gently set you back down. “You know…” A mischievous smile formed on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m really craving these pastries that I saw online. The place is just a five minute walk from here.”

Joe hummed softly and squinted his eyes at you, knowing full well you already had this plan in your mind before you two even stepped inside the plane this morning. 

“Alex said we can’t go out, darling.” Joe stated. 

“Well, okay.” You shrugged, letting your arms fall on your sides. “No chocolate croissants then.”

You grunted as you flopped yourself on the king size bed. Joe smiled, knowing exactly what you were doing. It was your way for him to not be able to resist you because you knew he loved his chocolate croissants and you knew that he loved that pout of yours. Joe walked over to the bed, his knees dipping into the mattress on either side of your legs as he towered over you. He looked down at you for a moment and leaned down to give you a chaste kiss. 

“Well, Alex should understand that I need my chocolate croissants.” Joe murmured as he kissed you again.

A small smile slowly formed on your face as you gazed up at him. “Yeah? I think he should understand that.” 

Joe kissed you again one more time before getting up from the bed and held out his hands, reaching for yours. Helping you up from the bed, you both left your two suitcases in the middle of your hotel room and quickly left the room, looking around the hall to make sure Alex wasn’t anywhere around.

Running down the hall quietly, Joe repeatedly clicked the elevator button until both doors opened. There was no sign of Alex anywhere in the lobby, so the both of you walked out of the hotel with a clear path. 

Paris was a bit cold tonight, but the sky was clear and you could see some stars twinkling above you. Walking down the streets of Paris, you held hands with Joe and enjoyed the night air. Five minutes later, you both found yourselves in the little pastry shop that you told Joe about and bought yourselves some chocolate croissants and some hot chocolate. You sat at the small little table outside and enjoyed the pastries with comfortable silence lingering between you two.

It was peaceful. 

You both loved that. You both enjoyed that because it was like you knew what you both wanted at this moment. Just some peace and quiet as you both enjoyed your little delicious pastries and the stunning view of Paris. 

Later that night, you found yourselves laughing together over some memory you two remembered, stopping in the middle of a small alleyway. Joe set his hands on your hips and pulled you close to him. 

“Are we really going to make out in the middle of a dark alley?” You teased him. 

Joe hummed and smiled at you. “My safe haven.” He murmured, cupping your cheek with his one hand. 

“I love you.” You murmured and leaned in to kiss him deeply. 

And you were right. 

You both made out like two teenagers in the middle of the dark alley, but you didn’t care because it was you and Joe. Joe and you. Your own little safe universe with him and that was all you cared about. 

“Chocolate croissants, really?” Alex scolded Joe for the second time the next morning inside his little dressing room. 

The first time was this morning when you and Joe had woken up late and thought you had all the time in the world to go downstairs and get breakfast. 

“Um… actually, that’s my fault.” You chimed in from the sofa you were sitting in the corner.

“Of course, it is.” Alex said sarcastically, giving Joe a look. 

“It’s just little pastries. There was no harm done.” Joe argued back with Alex. “Plus, I was also a tad bit hungry.”

“Well, your little hunger got you into five different articles with different rumors about it first thing this morning.” Alex argued back. “If you guys are hungry, there is room service—”

“Alex?”

The three of you snapped your heads towards the door and saw a woman by the doorway, holding a clipboard in her hands. 

“They’re ready for Joe.” She said. 

Alex sighed and nodded his head as Joe turned to give you a smile. He made his way towards you to give you a kiss but Alex had stopped him.

“Uh! No. Let’s go.” Alex said, setting a hand on his shoulder and turning him towards the door. 

You giggled softly and waved at Joe before sliding your phone out of your pocket and tried to entertain yourself by scrolling through Instagram and TikTok.

 The weekend went by quickly. Joe did the convention and the two of you didn’t go out of the hotel again that night. Though on his second day of the convention, you had found yourself a bit bored in the dressing room, so you decided to google some things. Some places. You were itching to get out and do something, and you knew Joe was too. You could see it in his eyes how much he wanted to go somewhere and away from everyone. 

“Where the hell are you?” 

You heard Alex through the phone later that afternoon as you looked out the window. Joe squeezed your hand softly as he held in his laugh. 

“On a train.” Joe answered. 

“On fucking a train? Are you fucking mental? Going where?” Alex asked, frustrated. 

“We’ll be back before the Dior photoshoot, I promise.” Joe said before hanging up the phone. 

“You know he will never let me tag along ever again, right?” You chuckled softly and set your head on his shoulder.

Joe wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to his side, planting a soft kiss on your hair.

“He knows I do the same thing even if you aren’t here with me.” Joe replied. “Alex needs to relax.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Does he even relax?”

“No idea.” Joe smiled as he looked out the window. 

There was one place you both loved even if you went anywhere in the world and that was the beach. Your laughter echoed with the waves crashing to the shore as the both of you ran towards the ocean. You slipped your shoes off immediately and ran towards the water, dipping your feet in it, while Joe followed behind. He hugged you from behind and twirled you around in the air as you both laughed. 

You leaned down and splashed Joe with some water, while you laughed at him. He stood there soaking wet, his jaw dropped on the ground. 

“I’m definitely getting my revenge for that.” Joe warned you.

You squealed, running away from him as he tried to splash you with some water. Eventually, he had caught up to you as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you deeper into the ocean. Both of you not caring if your clothes were all wet. By the time the sunset was setting on the horizon, you both were laying on the sand as you tried to get your clothes to dry off. You sat up and rubbed Joe’s back softly, making him hum in approval. 

“Relaxed?” You asked.

“Very.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

He was laying on his stomach while he rested his head on both of his arms. His curly hair was all disarray and flowing through the wind. You couldn’t help but smile and adore all parts of him. The pink and orange skies were reflecting through his butterfly soft skin, and it made him look even more mesmerizing through your eyes. 

“C’mere.” Joe fluttered his eyes open and one of his arms reached for you as he flipped himself over and laid on his back.

You laid next to him, your head resting on his chest as Joe brushed your hair softly with his fingers. 

“I hope I don’t get you in too much trouble.” You said.

Joe chuckled, “You don’t. I get myself in enough trouble even if you aren’t here. Plus, I love these kinds of moments with you.”

“Yeah?” You glanced up at him with a grin.

“Yes. I love that I’m able to do my work and I still get to spend time with you and be with you to explore different things and places.”

“Well, I’m glad because I love doing all of these things with you too.” You smiled, reaching to kiss his cheek. 

You both waited ‘til the sun had completely set on the horizon before Joe had wrapped his jacket around you since the temperature had dropped at night. The train ride back to the hotel was quiet, and you had fallen asleep in his arms. By the time the train arrived back to Paris, it was late at night and both of you were pretty exhausted that you just crashed the moment you arrived back in the hotel room. 

The Dior photoshoot was fast moving, and Joe was kept busy the whole day. You sat in his dressing room that day and scrolled through the internet again. Halfway through, you had found yourself watching him getting his photos taken. Alex, however, had kept a strict watch on you. You knew he was furious about the whole getting in the train and going to the beach thing, so you couldn’t blame him. 

“Hey, I talked to Alex and they don’t need me here again until Friday.” Joe muttered to you when he was on his break. 

You smiled. “Yeah? Why do you have that devious smile on your face?” 

“How’s Lyon sounding to you right now?” 

You raised your brow, “It sounds perfect, honestly.”

“After the shoot, yeah?” 

You chuckled and nodded your head as Joe got dragged back in the little studio for more photos. You turned to your left and saw Alex giving you a look. You didn’t say anything and gave him a small wave as he shook his head. 

There was another hour of waiting for Joe after that, but you didn’t mind because you absolutely enjoyed every minute of it and enjoyed watching him work. You could tell he was having so much fun too, and you couldn’t help but feel proud of him. This was his first designer ambassador brand, and you were so happy for him. 

“So, how long do you think it will take for Alex to call—” You were interrupted that afternoon with Joe’s phone ringing.

Just in time. 

You could hear Alex sighing loudly through the phone. “At least tell me where you are.” Alex sounded defeated. 

“Lyon.” Joe grinned. “I’ll be back, I promise—”

“I know.” Alex replied, “Just be on time please.” 

“I will.” 

“Have fun.” 

Just like that, Alex had hung up the phone. 

“Fucking wanderers.” Alex muttered under his breath as he shook his head. 

You grinned at Joe as he gave you an approving smile on his face. You knew right then that Alex was fine with it, or atleast, he had no choice anyway. Looking out the window of the train, you leaned back on Joe’s side as he wrapped an arm around you and your fingers intertwined with his. You let out a sigh of relief as you both continued blissfully in another adventure together. 

*********

Taglist:

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[heauxvibez]

warning: none, just somethn' cute :)

Hello..

You shelter my soul You're my fire when I'm cold I want you to know

You had me at hello..

"Oh my," my breath hitched as he strolled into the room. The clothing he had chosen was so simple: a plain grey T-shirt and a pair of black sweats, but they clung to him so well, accentuating every muscle of his athletic frame. His hair was in a messy bun, slightly frizzed at the top, yet it added to his effortless charm. My heart still managed to skip a beat at the sight of him. It was odd enough that even in what seemed to be his most comfortable state, this man could still draw me in. I could only imagine what he looked like when he was well put together.

I couldn't help but notice the bright smile he wore on his face as he took a seat on the couch next to his cousins Josh and Jon. I mirrored him, softly smiling myself while looking away, trying to conceal the sudden rush of emotions.

My best friend, Desiree, and I sat on the bar stools at the island of Jon's kitchen. We nibbled on a shared bag of popcorn that she had thrown in the microwave for us before the food for our small gathering arrived. The warm buttery aroma filled the room, mingling with the excitement of the evening.

Desiree had met Jon a few months ago, drawn in by the wrestler. Their connection was palpable, Jon always invited her as his plus one to all of the WWE events. Their budding relationship had them attached at the hip.

Meanwhile, I found myself unintentionally becoming the third wheel in their dynamic duo. It wasn't by choice; Desiree often insisted on bringing me along, claiming it was the only way she could enjoy the company of her two favorite people. However, for me, it often felt like a form of torture.

Sometimes, Jon would invite his brother Josh to attempt to keep me company. However, our interactions weren't always smooth. Maybe it was Josh's smart-ass remarks or the constant smirk he wore, even when delivering jokes that fell flat. Whatever the reason, I couldn't shake the feeling of irritation whenever we were together. Gosh, I couldn't stand him.

"What's wrong?" Desiree asked, pushing a small piece of her hair behind her ear, she had noticed my sudden change in demeanor. I bit my bottom lip, subtly nodding my head in the direction of the beautiful stranger.

She followed my gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"Ohh...," she chuckled. "That's Joe."

"He's fine as hell," I admitted, stealing another glance in his direction. My acrylic nail found its way between my teeth, a telltale sign of my nervousness.

Raising her brow, Desiree popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth, thoroughly entertained by my reaction.

"You into Joe the giant?" she teased.

Blushing furiously, I brought my head down to stare at my French-tipped toes, feeling slightly called out. My shoulders lifted into a small shrug, unable to hide the fact that I resembled nothing short of a lovestruck teenager at that moment.

"You want me to call him over here?" My head shot up quickly.

The idea of that man coming over here seemed somewhat terrifying. He had such a commanding presence; it was almost intimidating even sharing this space with him.

"What? No!" I whispered loudly, almost choking on a popcorn kernel as my heart raced in panic.

"Girl, hush," Desiree shushed me, waving me off before boldly calling out, "Yo, Joey!"

His neck turned sharply, his gaze locking onto us before he playfully rolled his eyes. As he stood from the couch, a ripple of nerves shot through me, tingling my skin. He sauntered over, his movements oozing confidence, licking his lips in a gesture that my me hot.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, his arms flexed tantalizingly, drawing my eyes to the intricate patterns of the sleeve tattoo that adorned his skin. It was hypnotic, and despite my embarrassment, I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from him.

"I told you to stop calling me that," his voice was a rich baritone that took me by surprise. The combination of his rugged appearance and velvety voice had me at a loss of words.

They shared a fake angry glance before erupting into laughter, embracing each other in a side hug.

"How have you been, Joe? I haven't seen you since I kicked your ass in Uno," Desiree gloated, her competitive side taking over even in casual conversation. She had a knack for card games that bordered on uncanny, leaving most opponents, including myself, in the dust.

He chuckled, the sound resonating through the room and sending vibrations to my knees. Thankfully, I was already seated; otherwise, I would have found myself on the floor or on my knees.

"I wasn't ready that day. I was still suffering from a little bit of jet lag, but I'm ready now," he explained, his tone laced with playful defensiveness.

She shook her head, dismissing his excuse with a playful smirk. "Nah, you ain't ready for this work, Joey boy."

A small laugh escaped my lips as I watched their banter, but as Joe's gaze flickered to me, his lips curved into a small smile, and I felt a blush creeping up my brown cheeks.

"And who is the beautiful young lady?" he inquired, his eyes lingering on me with an intensity that almost made me shy away.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say a word, Desiree, ever the chatterbox, beat me to it.

"This is my beautiful, very single, amazing best friend, Evie. Bye!"

Before I could even muster a glare in her direction, she had already hopped off the stool, joining Jon and Josh on the couch, leaving Joe and me alone in a charged silence.

"Hi..." I whispered, my voice betraying me as I struggled to maintain composure under the penetration of his pretty brown eyes. Every inch of me felt submissive in his presence, any bit of confidence left evaporating like mist in the morning sun.

I hadn't known him for more than five minutes, yet his smile, his laugh, his voice — everything about him — had me melting on the inside. How was he doing this to me?

"Hello, Evie" he smiled, and as soon as he said that, I knew he had my heart.

---------------

Something soft and sweet for my girls who love cute shit :)

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

[keeponquinning]

Italy Joe taking over my head, though. For the past few days.

warnings: established relationship, p in v sex, rpf in general??? as the banner suggests, smut smutty smut with some fluff. outdoor / balcony sex. fem reader.

You and Joe having a little summer holiday in Italy, he's the expert. And he's excited taking you to all his favorite spots, experiencing Italy through your eyes. Indulging in the food, the wine, obsessed with your summer dresses. The swimsuits you wear to the beaches, and yes, plural, he wants you to see every one. Connecting with his friends there and introducing you to them, getting to see another side of him.

Spending the whole day at a party with his friends, hands not able to leave each other, cuddling together despite the haze of the summer heat. Stealing kisses here and there, on lips, cheeks, necks. You're both so disgustingly cute that his friends can hardly stand the two of you and often try and pull you both away so that Joe can have some time with them, which he pouts about, a lot. But, sooner or later, he finds you again. You could be talking to someone, in the middle of conversation, and his hands finds your waist and he pulls you toward him as you let a squeal of a laugh. His lips on your neck, humming deep, grinning away as you tilt your head back and his lips find yours again.

The cycle repeats until it gets dark, his friends have given up at this point, so he has you in his arms, the air a bit cooler but still warm. You feel the warmth of his skin against you, his shirt open, his fingers trailing over the bare flesh of your stomach. Your sides. Your hips. Fingers trailing toward your chest, your breasts—

Until you smack his hands with a chuckle, his own joining in, "Stop it, behave yourself, I don't need your friends to see you feeling me up."

He snorted, "Oh, why not? They've given up on me by now, can't help it." Kissing along your jaw, "They want me happy and I'm happy with you."

"Still.... Stop it..." Though you're not sounding very convincing, smiling as he scrunches his nose at you, "God, come here..." Kissing the tip of his nose and you swear his eyes grow warm as he looks down at you. "It's uh... It's very beautiful, your Italy. I'm enjoying it a lot. Thank you for bringing me to it."

His brows rose and he gave a nod, "Yeah, yeah, I... I really love it here, y'know? London's great, but.... Just... Something about this place, it... You just feel a bit more free, y'know? Like... you can breathe. Just... Relax. I definitely need that sometimes, though, I do feel a bit of that with you. So..." He grinned, kissing the top of your head with a hum, "Thought it felt right... Taking you to the place that makes me feel like that... With the person that makes me feel the same way..."

Despite the heat, your arms wrap around him, burying your face into the warmth of his chest, his cologne hitting your senses, making you melt inside and out just for him. "I do like the version of you that comes out when we're here..." He hummed in agreement. "More relaxed, more... You." Lifting your head up, your smile wide, "And I like you a lot."

"Do you?" You nodded, which made his own smile widen. "Oh.. Good. I think that's good... Because... While you are not the first I've brought here, or, spent a good while with... I won't patronize you and say I regret that time, but... I... I really love you being here..." He let out a breath, a soft laugh tinged with it. "Fuck. I just... I like you a lot, too."

The heat plagues you both when you get back to the room of the place you're staying at. No AC. A mistake on both your parts because he wanted the authenticity of your stay. But you have a balcony, as you point out as he slips your shorts down and a trail of clothes follow towards it. Facing the night sky, him right behind you.

It was your idea, something he rather loved, driving his cock inside you over and over. Drawing out the most beautifully lewd sounds out of you. His one had at your wrist, the other around your throat. Squeezing at the sides, making your moans more desperate, almost as desperate as his own. When you started to back against him, fucking yourself on his cock... He throbbed, biting his teeth at your shoulder, both of you moving faster and faster. Dripping for him. Leaking for you. The sound of your cunt coating his cock driving the both of you crazy, your hand gripping the edge of the balcony, your cries louder and louder into the air and neither of you caring if someone could hear... Wanting them to hear.

He came first, crying out with a trembling curse past his lips. Cumming inside you, thick ropes of it filling you up and so much. Triggering your own orgasm to hit, his name flying past your lips with a sob. He held onto you tightly, his fingers coming to your clit and rubbing quick, unforgiving circles as you clenched around his cock, ushering more of him to spill inside you. He could feel you shake, you knees felt weak, waves of the after shocks of pleasure ravaging through you.

"You did good," his words, slurred softly, breathing out as he kissed up the curve of your neck and to your cheek. "Did so fucking good..." He kissed away the breathless laugh from your lips, slowly pulling out of you, his cum a small little river trickling down your thighs. It certainly felt like that to you. Still, he turned you around and kissed you, deep, his hands cradling your face, fingers into your hair from the sides, smiling as naked feed padded their way into the room, collapsing into the bed with you on top of him, kissing each other's lips still.

He'll tell you he felt bad about cumming first, that the only proper fuck was having you do the honors and him getting you there.

You telling him it doesn't matter, you got there in the end, but he refuses to be forgiven for such a travesty.

With a wicked grin and eyes to match, he makes a promise to make up for it, for, in his words, as long as it takes.

[chaussetteblanche]

If you still write for kit, can I request something where the reader is kits gf and comes out to him as bisexual, and is really nervous about it even tho he’s super accepting (like are you sure you’re okay with it) bc they get scared but he’s super reassuring 🥺

hi love ! yes, i still write for kit ! of course :) thanks for requesting !! sorry for taking so long to answer !

pairing : kit connor x female!reader summary : you come out as bi to kit word count : 1.2k warnings : none, i think

You'd first felt it when you were younger. You loved the Totally Spies and spent your afternoons watching the show when you'd come home from school. And you especially loved Britney. She was like the perfect mix of Sam, Clover and Alex. Who wouldn't love her ? But you didn’t think anything of it back then.

Then you had the same sort of feeling when you'd first watched Pirates of the Caribbean as a young teenager. Will Turner was gloriously handsome, of course, but you felt the same way about Elizabeth Swan. She was graceful, not to mention beautiful, and could handle her own in battle, she could shoot, kick ass... What couldn't she do ? You didn’t think twice about it then, either.

Same happened when you met a girl at camp. She was nice and beautiful and really funny. You were so happy to be her friend. You didn’t realize what the butterflies in your stomach whenever she touched you meant.

You'd never thought too much about these feelings, figuring everyone felt the same. It's totally normal to wonder what it would be like to kiss your female friends, right ? Everybody did that, didn't they ?

A lot of your friends came out over the years, so you grew more familiar with the LGBTQ+ community, sexualities and gender identities. But you never questioned your own. And why would you ? You were now dating Kit, had been for a few months, actually, so why would you even think about questioning your sexuality ?

And then Kit got cast for Heartstopper. And with him, you dived even deeper into the world of queerness. And more than once, when helping him rehearse his lines, you'd read the script and thought : hey, I feel this way sometimes, too. But still, you didn't think too much about it.

And then, Heartstopper finally came out. All of the cast gathered to binge watch it in one day. You had been invited too, along with the other significant others. Everyone had to bring something, so you and Kit had made a heart-shaped chocolate cake that morning.

You were all snuggled up on the couch and Joe finally pushed play on the first episode. You were leaning in Kit’s side with your legs laying over his lap. He wrapped an arm your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your head when the intro started.

You squealed along with everyone when Joe first appeared on the screen. Everyone screamed and laughed whenever a new character would appear on the screen. You watched episode after episode, glee filling your being and shining with pride as you watched Kit’s amazing performance.

You got quiet when Nick started questioning his sexuality. Your heart sped up when he did the “Are you gay” quiz on the internet. You quickly excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

You tried to take deep breaths as you locked yourself in the bathroom. You’d felt the same things for women that Nick felt for men. Was it possible that you weren’t- straight ?

You locked the door behind you and leaned on the sink. Did you- like girls ? You looked at yourself in the mirror and winced at the look on your face. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like not knowing. A knock at the door startled you.

“Y/N ? You alright, love ?” Kit. You splashed some water onto your face and flushed the toilet, drying your face. “Yeah, just really had to go all of a sudden,” you lied as you unlocked and opened the door. Kit looked down at you and chuckled. “Oh, sorry, my love.” “It’s fine,” you laughed, “no worries, babe.”

You couldn’t get it out of your head for weeks. Did you like girls ? Were you pretending to ? Were you a lesbian ? No, you liked Kit. What were you ? You talked it over with your friends a lot. They all told you the same thing : “With time, you’ll know.” Maybe you would think you were bi for a while and then discover that you didn’t like men at all, or the contrary. It frustrated you to not know. No one else but you could know what your sexuality was. And the answer wouldn’t magically appear on a silver platter, as much as you wished it would.

Kit noticed your change in behaviour. Your temper was shorter than usual and you acted distant from him. After worrying for a few weeks, he finally confronted you. You were in the kitchen, making some instant ramen when he finally talked to you about it.

“Y/N ?” he asked tentatively. “Yeah ?” you hummed absent-mindedly. “Is something going on these days ?” You tensed at his words. He noticed immediately and touched your arm. “I don’t mean to upset you, love, but I just want to let you know that if something’s the matter with you, with us or with me, I’m here and you can talk to me about it you want to.”

You wanted to cry at his kindness and thoughtfulness. “I-“ Your voice caught in your throat. A ball formed in your stomach as you thought of voicing your thoughts and worrying. How would he react? Of course he'd understand, but- What ifs flooded your brain as you spluttered like a fish out of water. He took your hand in his, bringing you back to reality as he kissed your knuckled. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready to, you know." "No, I- I want to." You took a deep breath. Kit looked at you, giving you his undivided attention. "I've been feeling like this for a while now, and it only got stronger when we watched your show together because it really put it in front of me. Like I couldn't ignore it any longer, you know?" Kit tilted his head to the side, somewhat confused as to what you were speaking about. "I- I think I'm bisexual." The word felt alien in your mouth. "I think I like both boys, especially you, of course, and girls. I- I'm attracted to both."

Kit smiled at you, squeezing your hand. "Thank you for telling me. I know it's not easy." "No," you chuckled, wiping a stray tear from your eye, you didn't even know why you were crying, "it's not. But you make it easier." "And how do you feel about it?" "I- okay, I guess. It's good to know there are others like me, like us. H-how do you feel about it?”

“I think it just gives me one more thing to love about you,”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you asked nervously, worrying your bottom lip. Kit nodded, still smiling. "Not in the slightest. I'm so proud of you. Can I kiss you?" You nodded. "Of course, this doesn't change how I feel about you in the slightest." He hummed and leaned forward, wrapping you up in his arms as he pressed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling and comfort he brought you. He pulled away. "I don't think I'm ready to tell everyone yet, though." "No, of course, you don't have to tell anyone you don't want to. You don't owe anyone anything."

[darlingsfandom]

Okayokayokay hear me out.. Joe Keery x reader where you've been in the mall or something and accidentally bump into him, he helps you up and you apologize and noticed that he accidentally cupped your ass a bit but neither of you say anything at this point.

You go your way and sometime later some dude somewhere starts harassing, groping you etc AND WHAT A COINCIDENCE Joe comes around the corner and saves you from this creep, you thank him and then he offers to drop you home, you invite him in and you know there's some smuuuutttsss😏😏😏💦💦 ty💜

You got it my friend !!

TW:

How you ended up this way? No one would believe it, you don’t even believe it! This was really happening. You standing in front of Joe Keery doe eyed and swollen lipped from biting so hard that they should be bleeding. There was no way it was happening! His hand touched your shoulder bringing you back to the moment.

“Are you alright ? You look a little surprised.” His words were soft. Your mouth open and then closed just as quickly before any words could come out. He chuckled a little “a bit starstruck huh?” He teased. Starstruck was indeed correct but not the only feeling taking over your body. You stood there for a second pondering what you should even say because the last thing you needed to do was make a fool of yourself.

“You’re very pretty!” Came straight from your mouth as Joe handed back the bag he had accidentally made you drop when he bumped into you. Joe lifted an eyebrow followed by a small chuckle.

“Pretty huh? That’s a first but I can say the same thing about you.” Joe smiled at you as his fingers brushed over your knuckles for a split second. Both of you bit your lips. Neither of you could look away until his friend grabbed his shoulder and broke his concentration. Joe said goodbye to you leaving you still frozen until he was actually out of sight. A small sigh left your lips and your head hung low a little before you made your way towards Victoria’s Secret like you had planned. Once inside the overstimulating, over priced store you had a feeling in your stomach that wouldn’t go away. You browsed around looking at all the lingerie , bras, panties and everything in between when you made your way to the perfume section. You’d admit their perfume wasn’t too bad and enjoyed it, but the knot in your stomach grew tighter.

“That stuff smells really nice!” A man’s voice rang in your ears as you held the bottle in your hands. You set it back down and gave him a nod with a slight smile before taking a few steps away to go look at a different bottle. The man followed behind you acting like you knew him so no one would be alarmed. His hand grabbed onto your ass making you jump but not yell. You shot him a look only for him to do it again. Your nostrils flared as you stormed towards a different section , but he followed you until you found yourself bumping into what felt like a wall.

“Sorry.” You mumbled only to realize that by some fate it was Joe once again. You looked over your shoulder to see the man still coming towards you so with quick thinking you grabbed Joes hand and gave him the most pleading eyes he had ever seen. The dots connected in Joes head and he played along. Joe kissed your head and pulled you close before wrapping his arm around your waist .

“Just go with it.” He mumbled to you before casually walking out of the store. You looked over shoulder to see the old man glaring at the two of you. Joe pulled you closer making you stumble a little against the tile before turning the corner and down the hall that lead to the bathroom.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You tucked your hair behind your ears as Joe pursed his lips together.

“I know but you looked very upset, couldn’t stand to see such a pretty thing like you upset.”

Your cheeks burned bright when his words filled your ears. Your fingers tucked your hair behind your ear while your hormones made you feel like a teenage school girl. It was no secret that you liked Joe ever since you seen him as Steve Harrington.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to give you a ride home, so no one else creeps on you… if that’s okay of course.” Before you could even gather the word yes in your mind your head was spreading nodding while wrapping your arm around his. Joe smiled at you before taking out the back quietly as possible not to bring any attention to the two of you.

Once you were safe inside of his car it felt like it was still a dream that this couldn’t be real. There was no way it was real! Until you looked at the clock in his car and watched the minutes pass. This was actually happening! Joe Keery was giving you a ride home which in your opinion was the same thing as getting an Uber but a lot cooler. Both of you sat in silence as he followed the GPS to the address you gave him. No words were exchanged until he pulled into your driveway.

“Thank you, for everything. I appreciate it.” You gave him a smile as you gathered your bags from around your feet as you said your goodbyes or at least what you thought was goodbye. Joe had turned off the car and followed behind you when you had made your way inside. “I.. uh.. I got it from here Joe .”

“Just wanted to make sure.” He gave you a half hearted smile. You stood on your doorstop gripping your bags before you leaned forward and kissed his cheek to which Joe smiled before reaching out , grabbing your face and kissing you softly moving his lips with yours making you almost drop your bags. You pulled away slowly to look at him only for your mouth to hang open while breathing heavily. “Come inside ?” You mentally smacked yourself before fixing your words, “would you like to come inside?” Joe nodded quickly as you fumbled to get inside and once you were set he followed you inside to the living room where you set down your bags before he could wrap his arms around you to pull you closer. His lips were attached to yours again making your hands grip the back of his neck and pull on his neck hair while his lips moved along the side of your neck. You swore this wasn’t really happening despite the strong scent of his cologne filling your nostrils, his lips sucking gently on your hot skin on your shoulder , the way his hands massaged your hips while walking you backwards until you stumbled onto the couch , his body crashing on top of yours.

“Say the word and I’ll stop.” His hot breath tickled your ear lobe. Joe waisted no time in running his hands over your thighs to flip up the bottom of your little skirt to show him the embarrassingly large wet spot on your little cotton panties. He arched his eyebrow at you while you laid below him as if you were an innocent angel. His fingers hooked into your panties and slid them down while licking his lips, you watched in awe before a shudder ran over your body when the cool air blew over your pussy. Joe watched how your pussy fluttered at the air making him smirk before he got comfortable on his stomach, grabbed your thighs and lifted your leg over his shoulder before slowly running the tip of his tongue over your folds.

“Joe!” You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue. You could feel him smile against your pussy. Joe slowly licked up and down while you combed your fingers through his hair gently until his index finger slid inside of you making you grip his hair. “Fuck! Joe!” Your voice sounded pathetic as he worked his tongue over your pussy and his finger pushed in and out of you.

“Mhmm, you’re being such a good girl for me honey.” Joe pulled his finger away and looked you in the eye before licking it clean. How could he be so pretty, yet so sinful? Joe went back down on you but it wasn’t soft and sweet like the first time, it was like animal instinct took over making him lap his tongue over you faster while holding you down by your thighs. He sounded so nasty sucking and licking your pussy which only made you more aroused by the second.

“Oh my god! Fuck fuck fuck!” You cried out as Joe devoured your pussy, eating you out like it was his last meal. “Fuck! You’re so good!” Your body was on fire , your heart beating faster as he locked eye contact with you. His nose brushed against your clit while he gave you the best innocent eyes while his tongue was deep inside of you swirling around to collect your arousal. “Joe!! You’re going to make me cum!” Your words were breathless. Joe mumbled into your pussy while pulling you close as possible so he could get every inch of your pussy.

The intense eye contact, his tongue lapping at you , his fingers gripping your thighs and the way he moaned into you was enough to make you cry out. “JOE! Fuck! I’m cumming!” Your back arched forward , toes curled into the couch and fingers death gripping his hair, but that wasn’t enough for Joe! He ate at your pussy enjoying every drop of your juices as you climaxed against his mouth making a mess of his face. Joe sensed how overstimulated you were as you ate out after your orgasm and slowly pulled away. His chin shined with your juices while he looked down at you.

Flushed cheeks, messy hair, dripping pussy, you were a painting come to life in his eyes. Joe stood up and you noticed how hard he was.

“Fuck me please.” You chocked out while reaching for his zipper.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Joe helped you take off his pants and smiled at your reaction when his cock sprung free from his boxers. Your mouth hung open for a second as you admired his girthy cock. It was average length but the girth was huge! You let out a little whimper while touching his cock making Joe laugh a little before he sat down on the couch and pulled you on top of him. He lined his cock up with your hole and slid you down on his fat cock making you grip his shoulders while moaning out his name. The stretch stung at first as you adjusted to his cock .

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel so nice on my cock.” Joe praised you while you bottomed out on his cock. His hands held your hips while he slowly moved you up and down on his cock making you roll your eyes back.

“Fuck me Joe! Please! Use me!” You blabbered out while getting cock drunk. Joe smirked at your words.

“Want me to fuck you hard hmm? Really give it to ya until you can’t walk hmm?” He thrusted faster into you making you whine.

“Yes please! I’m yours to use!’ You couldn’t believe the filth coming out of you but you didn’t care! This was everything you’ve wanted. Joe gripped your hips as tight as he could before he started bouncing you up and down hard on his fat cock. He loved the way you were going limp as if you were just a little fuck toy. You held onto him when he switched it up and started fucking up into you making his balls slap against you. The sounds echoing in the room made it even more real.

“God! Fuck! You’re so fucking good for me honey. Taking my cock just like a good girl!” Joe watched with lust filled eyes as he grunted while pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow .

“Yes yes yes! Fuck! Gonna make me cum!” Your nails dragged down his chest while Joes movements slowed down his own climax about to happen.

“Knees now!” He helped you as fast as he could but before you were fully on your knees Joe was cumming with a loud groan onto your face. You sat there taking it with a smile. Joe panted above you stroking his cock watching every last drop land on your lips. You licked it off your lips seductively before he laid you back down and rubbed your clit with his index finger as fast as he could which sent you over the edge in a new way, Joe had made you squirt !

“Fuck yeah! That’s so hot honey!” He praised as your squirt coated his wrist and the floor by his feet. Your body went limp as the last lit bit of liquid oozed out of you. Both of you said nothing, just laying in each others company. He broke first to get up and disappeared to the kitchen to come back with a wet washcloth to clean you up.

“Thank you.” You whispered as Joe finished cleaning you up.

“No need to thank me honey. It was my pleasure.” Joe leaned in and brushed his lips against yours before cupping your face in his hands.

“I meant for everything not just the amazing orgasm!” You giggled against his lips making him smile against yours .

“I know honey, it was all my pleasure .”

[d3adite666]

Doug Remer and Joe Cooper Headcannons

Gender Neutral :)

MDNI NSFW/SUGGESTIVE THEMES

Doug Remer

- Definitely would pick you up when he hugs you, especially if you’re way shorter than him

-He probably makes fun of you in a loving way, calling you nicknames to “mock” your height difference, that type of guy to use your shoulder as an armrest to annoy you.

-“I’m like a tree compared to you, it’s adorable how short you are” with a sly smile (mf you wanna be a tree i’m gonna climb you like one)

-Going with the hug thing, he would so sling you over his shoulder and carry you away. You’re having a conversation with Coop? Too bad, you’re getting swept up and carried away.

-This man would be down bad, like yeah he seems all smooth and shit but deep down he prob twitches when he gets nervous.

-Playing with his hands and twiddling his thumbs, blushing if you literally just acknowledge his presence. If he flirts and you reciprocate that?? Boy he’s a mf goner, consider him folded.

-Definitely the type of guy to be having his arm draped around ur waist and then manhandle your ass, playfully yes but you’d give him the stink eye and he’d act like he didn’t do anything.

-Would get high with you and then beg for you to do his makeup, straddling his waist as you sit there putting eyeliner and lashes on him. (maybe you can convince him to put on a dress to flatter his slutty waist, oop who said that).

-Loves the feeling of your hands in his hair. Sometimes will just lay down with his head in your lap in the hopes that you’ll get the message. Looking up through his eyelashes with puppy dog eyes.

-Wants to always be in physical contact with you, a hand on your thigh, arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. You name it he will yearn for it, even if it’s just interlocking pinkies under the kitchen table.

Joe Cooper

-Personally, Coop to me feels like a gentle lover, afraid to break you just by holding your hand as if you’re a fragile artifact.

-Maybe it’s my personal view, but just like trey i feel as if coop would also be an avid enjoyer of The Cure.

-If you’re goth you definitely told him he looks like blonde Robert Smith once and that almost brought a tear to his eye (this is just fact trey looks like young robert in my eyes).

-Yearning love, would have a crush on you in highschool but would never tell you out of fear of rejection or you pushing him away.

-He is the type of guy to sneak looks and then get flustered and look away if you catch him, maybe even grabbing a book or some shit and acting like he’s doing something completely different.

-Along with this he is so oblivious to your affections, remer and squeak would be screaming at him that you reciprocate feelings and he’d pull some “idk man” bullshit.

-Would drunk dial you, i will take no critcism. Coop would call you after a few drinks and tell you he pissed his pants at school in sophmore year or some shit. (You’d never bring it up though to not embarrass him).

-Literally generates heat, bro is a mf fireplace. You’re cold? Go sit next to Coop, it’s not like he’s gonna let you leave his side anyways. You’re babysitting him 24/7 (not that you mind).

[coimbrabertone]

NASCAR Numerology: How NASCAR's Current Teams Got Their Numbers: Part Four.

Welcome everybody to the mission creep blog! We've done Trackhouse, Penske, Wood Brothers, RCR, SHR, Hendrick, RFK, and Spire, which means we've cleared the first ten numbers!

Today we're going to talk about:

Joe Gibbs Racing, who runs the #11, the #19, the #20, and the #54 this year.

Kaulig Racing, who runs the #13, the #16, and the #31.

Rick Ware Racing, who run the #15 and the #51,

and 23XI Racing, who run the #23, the #45, and sometimes the #50.

So, starting with Joe Gibbs Racing...and their story starts with none of their current numbers! Rather, it starts with the #18 in 1992.

Why the #18? Once again, it was a story of lowest available number, as 1-12 were taken, the #13 was being used by a part time time along with various superstitions around it, and #14, #15, #16, and #17 were taken as well. Thus, JGR debuted in 1992 with Dale Jarrett in the Interstate Batteries Chevrolet. This partnership won the Daytona 500 in 1993 and won at the fall Charlotte race in 1994, but for 1995, Dale Jarrett would leave. He moved to Yates Racing to take over the #28, subbing for the injured Ernie Irvan, and when Irvan returned to the #28 in 1996, Jarrett moved to a second Yates car, the #88.

Thus, JGR had to make their own story with Bobby Labonte, who impressed immediately by winning the 1995 Coke 600 and sweeping Charlotte.

1997 would bring only one win, at Atlanta, so for 1997, JGR switched to Pontiac. This era of JGR, with Bobby Labonte running the Interstate Batteries #18 Pontiac, is when the team really broke into the top of NASCAR.

Bobby would finish second to Dale Jarrett in 1999, but in 2000, Bobby Labonte would win the championship for JGR.

This was also the time that JGR became a two car team for the first time, but more on that in a moment.

For now, Labonte continued in JGR through the end of the 2005 season, with his last three years in a Chevrolet as GM began phasing out the Pontiac brand in NASCAR. Upon his retirement, he was replaced by JGR development driver JJ Yeley, but Yeley would only last two winless seasons.

He would be shuffled off to Hall of Fame Racing for 2008.

This is when JGR experienced its biggest change in history when, feeling like they were second or even third fiddle at Chevrolet, they switched to Toyota for the 2008 season. Toyota looked downright bad in 2007, but with a year of experience and JGR making the switch, there was hope.

Another reason to hope was that Kyle Busch, the hotheaded but fast kid from Hendrick Motorsports, made the switch, with JGR signing M&Ms as a sponsor over from Yates.

Thus, one of the most recognizable partnerships in modern NASCAR began, with Kyle Busch, Toyota, and M&Ms - they won the 2015 and 2019 championships together, took countless wins, and along with Kevin Harvick of SHR and Martin Truex Jr., Kyle formed part of the "Big Three" drivers that dominated the late Gen 6 era of NASCAR, particularly 2017-2019.

However, during the 2022 season, Mars Inc., parent company of M&Ms, announced that they were ending their NASCAR sponsorship. Kyle Busch was forced to move to the #8 car at RCR, while Joe Gibbs announced that his grandson, Ty Gibbs, would move up to the NASCAR Cup Series.

Rather than the #18, he would continue in his Xfinity number, driving the #54.

Ironically enough, the #54 originates with Kyle Busch, as Kyle Busch Motorsports has long run the #51 (a tribute to Days of Thunder antagonist Rowdy Burns, who Kyle has nicknamed himself after) and the #4 in trucks. When KBM moved up to the second-tier Nationwide series in 2012 neither number was available, so they ran the #54 instead.

Kyle and Kurt Busch split the season, with Kurt taking its only win at Richmond.

For 2013, KBM's Nationwide team was sold to Joe Gibbs Racing, where, in 2022, Ty Gibbs ran the #54 to the Xfinity series championship (for those who don't know, Busch, Nationwide, and Xfinity are all the second-tier NASCAR series, it just doesn't have a proper name so it has always been known by its title sponsor, which has changed a few times).

So, the #18 became the #54.

Meanwhile, Joe Gibbs' second number was the #20, introduced in 1999. Why the #20? Because the #19 was taken by a part-time team at the time, so the #20 was the next available number after #18. This number was initially ran by Tony Stewart with immediate success, winning the championship in 2002 with Pontiac and 2005 with Chevrolet. The Home Depot #20 was one of the iconic cars of NASCAR's boom era, and Tony Stewart was its superstar driver. In 2008, however, JGR switched to Toyota, while Tony was an all-American GM guy to his core.

The awkward partnership only lasted for one year before Tony left JGR to start his own team with Gene Haas, forming SHR.

Joey Logano replaced Tony in the #20, showing flashes of brilliance, but with only two wins in four seasons, Logano was replaced with Matt Kenseth for 2013. Logano would move to Penske, with much more success there than he had at JGR.

Matt Kenseth, meanwhile, saw the #20 switch from Home Depot sponsorship to running a Dollar General primary. Nevertheless, Kenseth showed immediate success, taking seven wins and falling just nineteen points off championship leader Jimmie Johnson.

Two years later in 2015, Kenseth was on for another championship contending season before being spun out from the lead at Kansas by none other than Joey Logano. Getting caught up in a wreck at the next race at Talladega saw Matt Kenseth get eliminated in the round of 12, while Logano won his third race in a row at Talladega to sweep the round of 12.

In retribution, at Martinsville two weeks later - the first race of the round of eight - Matt Kenseth wrecked Joey Logano as the crowd cheered. Kenseth was suspended for two races, but getting wrecked at Martinsville, a tyre problem at Texas, and failing to win Phoenix meant that Joey Logano didn't advance either.

A historic feud between drivers of the #20.

Kenseth would leave JGR after 2017, handing the #20 over to Erik Jones for three seasons, before it ended up in the hands of current driver Christopher Bell in 2021.

Bell has made the championship four in both 2022 and 2023, but finished fourth in the standings both years.

JGR's third car was the #11, co-owned by JD Gibbs and running the #11, which was the number JD used in college football at William & Mary. The #11 debuted in 2004, running various drivers such as JJ Yeley, Jason Leffler, Ricky Craven, and even Terry Labonte before settling on Denny Hamlin at the end of 2005. Hamlin went full time for 2006.

The team, with primary sponsorship from FedEx, has run ever since.

Denny Hamlin and the #11 team have won three Daytona 500s, fifty-four races, and have basically done everything in NASCAR besides winning a championship. Truly the Chicago Cubs of the stock car racing world.

Last on the list for JGR is the #19, which Joe Gibbs was finally able to secure in 2015. They had already poached Matt Kenseth from Roush for the #20, so Gibbs decided to do it again and nabbed Carl Edwards for the #19, a partnership that lasted two years before Carl abruptly retired at the end of the 2016 season for reasons NASCAR fans still speculate about to this day.

In the words of Carl Edwards himself...he had taken too many knocks to the head over the years and with him then starting a young family with a neurosurgeon wife, he decided to retire.

Daniel Suárez replaced Edwards for 2017 and 2018, before the other leading Toyota team in the form of Furniture Row Racing collapsed, giving JGR the chance to pick up 2017 champion Martin Truex Jr. for the 2019 season. Truex brought sponsors Bass Pro Shops and Auto Owners Insurance over with him.

2024, however, will be Truex's last season. Chase Briscoe will take over the #19 for 2025.

One team down.

Kaulig Racing has two full time cars, the #16 and the #31, as well as a part-time #13. The #31 is driven by Daniel Hemric, the #16 by AJ Allmendinger, Shane van Gisbergen, Josh Williams, Derek Kraus, and Ty Dillon, and the #13 has been used by Allmendinger in races where both he and SVG were running, such as COTA and Chicago.

Kaulig took #16 since it was available in 2021 (their usual Xfinity numbers, #10 and #11, were both taken), the #31 was chosen for their chartered entry for 2022 since RCR had vacated it after 2019, and the #13 because one: it was vacated, and two: it's the inverse of the #13. Yeah, not much story there, Kaulig is a new team and their numbers don't have much historic meaning behind them.

I mean, Roush ran the #16 for a long time, most successfully with Greg Biffle, but there's no link between that and Kaulig.

Kaulig does have two wins - Indianapolis Road Course 2021 and Charlotte Roval 2023 - with AJ Allmendinger, which is the most success the #16 has had since Biffle, for whatever that's worth.

Now onto Rick Ware Racing.

Rick Ware Racing has built up their history as a start-and-park team running the #51, and initially their numbering scheme was built on that, running numbers such as #52, #53, and the #54 as well. This is also the number that Rick Ware uses on its co-entries in other series, such as its alliance with Dale Coyne Racing in Indycar - where the #51 is currently run by a slew of drivers, of which Katherine Legge is expected to finish out the season - and IMSA LMP3 racing, where Rick Ware runs his son Cody.

Cody Ware was arrested in 2023 for assaulting and strangling his then girlfriend, so that's the first and only time I will mention him on this blog.

Anyway, more recently Rick Ware Racing has started professionalizing its NASCAR efforts, with Justin Haley showing promise in the #51 car that he runs in alliance with RFK Racing. Their other car, the #15, is still somewhat of a revolving door of drivers, but it does appear to be improving.

So, that's the #11, the #13, the #15, and the #16. Roush has the #17, the #18 is currently vacant, JGR has the #19 and the #20, Wood Brothers has the #21, Penske the #22...that means 23XI is next.

23Xi Racing, a joint venture by Michael Jordan (the 23 part) and Denny Hamlin (the 11 part, or XI in Roman numerals) is another new NASCAR team, having entered NASCAR in 2021 in alliance with Joe Gibbs Racing.

The history of their numbers is quite simple, the #23 is Jordan's jersey number, and the #45 is the number he wore when he returned to the Chicago Bulls in 1995 after a brief sabbatical during which time he played for the White Sox's minor league affiliates.

Bubba Wallace has run the #23 since it was established in 2021, while Kurt Busch was the initial driver of the #45 before a career-ending crash at Pocono. Ty Gibbs was drafted in to replace Kurt, before 23Xi briefly switched Bubba into the #45 to compete for the owner points playoffs. Daniel Hemric and John Hunter Nemechek also had starts in 23XI cars in 2022.

For 2023 though, Tyler Reddick has been brought in to drive the #45, winning twice in 2023, and another two times so far in 2024.

Bubba, meanwhile, won Talladega 2021 in his #23, and Kansas 2022 while filling in in the #45.

23XI's third car was initially the #67 - get it, like 2,3,4,5,6,7? - but this year, in a promotion with sponsor Mobil 1, it has run as the #50 to celebrate their 50th anniversary.

Travis Pastrana, Kamui Kobayashi, and Corey Heim have all started in the #67/#50, while Juan Pablo Montoya is scheduled to run the #50 at the 2024 NASCAR Cup race at Watkins Glen.

So yeah, we started with a college football number in the #11, and we finish on a team named after basketball numbers with 23XI.

I believe tomorrow will be the end of this series, as Front Row Motorsports with the #34 and #38, Legacy Motor Club with the #42 and the #43, and JTG Daugherty with the #47 are the only remaining full-time teams.

Higher numbers are a bit sparse in NASCAR these days, huh?

[yeollie-plz]

Let Me Go

Joel Miller x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Six reasons you wanted Joel Miller and one reason he wouldn't have you.

Genre: Angst, with some fluff for backstory purposes

Warnings: age gap, heart break, cuddling, mentions of fighting

Gif credits to owners!

When you had met Joel, he was this tough guy with a rough exterior. But as time went on there was something warmer about him. Something almost comforting.

This comfort soon turned into reliance and then dependence and sure enough you were in love with the older man. It wasn't just one thing that had led to the fall, actually it was six. You had counted them all, it was exact. Just like his exactly one reason to not have you. The one reason he broke your heart and ignored what he truly felt.

One: Little Gestures

The two of you had met in winter, the snow was falling lightly onto the streets of the Boston QZ. You were freezing, still not used to the chill of the winter air. Not to mention your jacket was thin.

You had met Tess a few times, traded a few things. But you had yet to meet her "guy". This "guy" was Joel, someone she had formed some sort of attachment to. This time Tess had brought Joel along.

He didn't say much, didn't really even make eye contact with you. Instead he sat there, scanning the surroundings.

You shivered slightly as a gust of wind passed the three of you. Not thinking much of it, you continued your conversation. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed something grab Joel's attention as he sauntered off to investigate it.

When he returned, he passed closer to you dropping the jacket that was once donned his shoulders onto your own. Your eyebrows furrowed at the gesture and when you went to question him, he had once again disappeared somewhere. So instead, you gladly accepted the thicker material and its collection of body heat.

You also accepted the flutter in your heart the gesture had given you.

Two: Eyes

Number two was a pair of things: his eyes.

The brown orbs held so much pain, yet every time they passed over5 you there was a softness behind them. It was like he could read everything your mind was trying to tell him. Sometimes they were even trying to scream out to him.

You never needed to bring up the hard stuff to Joel, he just knew. He knew you had pain just like he did. He knew not to dwell on those facts. They were the past and although he didn't see his future he knew yours was as bright as your eyes.

Three: Protector

Tess told you Joel was a protector. He'd do anything for the people he cared about. Even more for those he loved.

"This is why he's so good to have around." She told you. You had always thought there was something between her and Joel. That was until she told you otherwise.

One night you had gotten yourself into a little bit of danger. Some guys were trying to rough you up for some ration cards and luckily Joel happened by the situation. He fought off the men and walked you home.

You were now safely inside your apartment and about to close the door, when Joel held it open with his hand. He looked like something was on his mind.

Neither of you said anything, just held eye contact. Until he finally sighed and let go of your door, leaving.

A few days later you had a meeting with Tess. She brought up the events of that night, apparently Joel had told her. She laughed as she recounted the way he told it.

"I don't know what spell you casted on him but he's entranced with you."

Four: Listener

Joel wasn't much a talked, but he would always listen. You had always had an inquisitive mind. When the world was normal it used to bother your parents and friends, even your teachers sometimes.

But all your questions never seemed to bother Joel. He would sit and listen to them all, even when he didn't have the answers. Even when there was no answers to be given!

And in the rare times he did know a thing or two he would respond, gaining a huge smile from you.

These were the times his heart fluttered.

Five: Cuddles

I know what you're thinking! Joel Miller, a cuddler? You didn't believe it either. But after one particularly long night, you had both fallen asleep on his couch.

There was still a bit of a chill in the air, so naturally your body had gravitated closer to his in search of some warmth.

You were never sure whether it was a conscious decision or not but by the time you woke up the two of you were intertwined together. And this became a habit of yours.

Even when it was no longer cold out, the two of you would cling to each other.

Six: Pretending

After a few months of hanging more with Joel and Tess, they invited you to meet Bill and Frank. It was nice to get out of the QZ and have a normal meal like the whole world wasn't a complete shit show.

At one point you had found yourself inside with only Frank. You had insisted on helping to wash the dishes. While scrubbing a plate, you had caught a glimpse of Joel through the window. Craning to get a better look, you smiled to yourself. All of a sudden Frank laughed, causing you to look over at him.

"What?" You questioned.

"You two are so in love with each other and neither of you see it. It's just funny."

Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could contest, Joel walked into the kitchen.

"Why don't you two go and chat with Bill and Tess? I'll finish this up." He suggested, holding eye contact with you.

Joel wouldn't take no for an answer and ushered the two of you outside. Only to stop you before you made it out the door. He bent down and tied your shoe lace, you hadn't even noticed it had come undone.

Across the room you heard a throat clear and your eyes met Frank's. He gave you a knowing look, mouthing a "see".

One: Heart

The very foundation of a human is their heart. If it stops beating, you no longer have a living being. Only a body.

Joel told you once that his heart had stopped beating a long time ago. And when he was about to leave he told you again.

"I haven't had a heart in years. I haven't felt anything in years. Only pain. Only desperation. But I met you and I had felt my heart beating again. It skipped a beat or two a few times." He let out a small laugh before continuing.

"But I'm not what you deserve. I'm not what you need. I've lived a life and yours is barely starting. You have a beating heart, mine is more like Frankenstein, stitched together."

You couldn't help but to correct him, "Frankenstein was the scientist."

He took a deep breath in, "Then I'm the monster and you're Frankenstein, you stitched me back together."

"But I don't understand, if I've done all this for you, why are you leaving?"

"I can't watch your heart stop beating because of me!" He almost shouted at you.

"You leave and it will stop!" Okay, you were shouting. Grabbing his shirt, pleading him to make eye contact with you.

"I need you to let go. Let me go, Y/N." Finally his eyes met your own and you knew that the man you had fallen in love with was no longer yours.

You had six definitive reasons why you loved Joel Miller, but he had only needed one to leave.