I Changed My Mind This Is Funny Lmfao

this man is taking over every fibre of my being and i HATE IT

i want control over my own mind again thanks!

I love his hair right now

let the uncharted press begin ⌛️

i second this.

Gals, Gays, Theys, and everyone in between, we as a community need to contribute to the Billy Hargrove collection of fiction. Please, please make more. 🙏

the backwards hat is the best thing i’ve ever seen

Déjà vu II

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: Things get heated (due to backwards cap hotness) after the preseason game between the Bengals & Packers

Time/Place: August 11, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio

A/N: This is the follow-up to Déjà vu

Inspo pic: Getty Images (edit)

You lean against the wall in the stadium tunnel, waiting to give Joe a quick hug after the game before heading home. 36-19 had been the final score; it was the first preseason game, though, so no need to panic just yet.

You smile to yourself as you let your mind wander to earlier in the night; watching Joe put in work doing throwing drills and running wind sprints had everyone in high spirits. You could feel the collective sigh of relief from Bengals fans when they saw their QB1 looking so good just two weeks after the calf strain. Joe wasn't 100 percent yet, but he was getting better by the day.

Then later during the game you were hit with a sense of déjà vu watching Joe on the sideline looking like walking sex. Something about him wearing the earpiece and stalking around frustrated when the offense wasn't clicking was just hot as hell. The backwards cap was the cherry on the eye-candy sundae.

You're still contemplating that last thought as you raise your head and lock eyes with Joe striding toward you, still wearing the backwards cap that had you squirming in your seat all night. Your stomach does a somersault at the look on his face. "Hey," you greet him with a smile as he reaches you, grabbing your hand and pulling you deeper into the tunnel, giving you a wink when you raise your eyebrows at him. "Where are we going?" you mutter, your eyes going wide when he ushers you through the vast locker room and into one of the treatment rooms, the door barely shutting behind you before he's got you pressed against it. "Damn," you whisper, dropping your bag and sliding your hands up his muscular chest as his mouth captures yours, his hot tongue plunging inside to tangle with yours as you cling to his broad shoulders.

After a few minutes you finally come up for air. "Is the door locked?" you breathe, dropping a hand down to tease him through his slinky shorts. "No," he answers, "there's no lock on the door, but we've got about five minutes before a trainer comes in to do my treatment." You immediately snatch your hand away from his crotch and give him an exasperated look. "Five minutes?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, giving you a sheepish look just as someone knocks on the door. You grab your bag and step aside, smiling at the trainer who enters the room as soon as Joe opens the door.

"Oh sorry!" the trainer chirps, his face going crimson as he looks back and forth between you and Joe. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No problem," you soothe. "I was just leaving." You give Joe a smile and lean in close. "See you at home," you whisper. "Make sure to wear this backwards cap." You run a finger over the snapback strap adorning his forehead before heading for the door, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder as you walk out, the sight of Joe biting his plump bottom lip practically seared into your brain as you head for the exit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An hour later you're standing in your kitchen, freshly showered and wearing skimpy lace panties and one of Joe's t-shirts, your body humming with anticipation as you pour a glass of pinot noir and take a sip. You had nothing but water at the game, and you need just a little something to take the edge off as you wait for Joe to get home.

You open the fridge and pull out a bowl of red seedless grapes, tossing a couple in your mouth and damn near moaning at the combo of sweet, cold grapes chased with a swallow of lush, plummy wine. You repeat the action a few times before your ears perk up, your entire body reacting to the sound of Joe coming in the garage door.

He hits you with a panty-dropping grin when he rounds the corner. "I'm still wearing the backwards cap," he purrs, walking straight up to you as you offer him a grape. "Good boy," you praise, a pulse of arousal sizzling through you at the look in his eyes as he opens his mouth for you. "Mmmm, juicy," he moans, holding eye contact as you pop another grape in his mouth. "You got anything else juicy for me, baby girl?"

You can tell from the cadence of his speech and his body language that he still has some pent-up frustration from the game, from not being able to get on the field and unleash hell on the opponents. "Maybe," you tease, biting your lip and giving him a dirty grin as he backs you up against the kitchen island, his hands sneaking under your t-shirt to settle on your waist just as his mouth crashes down on yours.

A few minutes into making out -- with one of his big hands caressing your breasts and the other making a beeline for your crotch -- his phone rings, both of y'all going completely still as he breaks the intense kiss to glance at his phone. "Shit … it's Coach," he grumbles, nibbling on your neck as you take a deep breath. "You better answer it," you whisper. "He wouldn't be calling this late if it wasn't important." Joe nods and makes a stank face as he grabs his phone. "Hey Coach," he quips. "Yeah, I can talk for a bit," he continues, rolling his eyes dramatically.

You squirm out of his grasp and head for the stairs, giving him a loaded look just before you vanish out of sight. You walk through the master bedroom into the en suite bathroom, quickly splashing cold water on your face to cool down your heated skin; as you pat dry with a towel, you consider rubbing one out since you're frustrated as fuck and Joe's conversations with Coach Taylor usually last a while, especially if they're talking schemes and strategy.

You're still pondering the idea when Joe strides into the bathroom, his eyes locking onto yours in the mirror like a heat-seeking missile. "That was fast," you whisper, tossing the towel to the side as he walks up behind you. "I told him I'd talk to him tomorrow," he mutters, unclipping the clasp holding your hair up, burying his nose in your hair and taking a deep breath as it tumbles down over your shoulders.

He nestles his erection against your ass while making eye contact with you in the mirror. "Real subtle, babe," you chuckle, lifting your arms so he can slip your t-shirt off. "Do I need to be subtle?" he asks, the raw lust in his voice causing a gush of liquid heat between your thighs. "No, sir," you breathe, watching closely as he whips his t-shirt off, accidentally taking his cap with it. You bite your lip as he slowly reaches for the cap, running his long fingers through his tousled hair a few times before easing the backwards cap back on his head. "Now … where were we," he growls, his deep voice tickling your ear in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together to try and ease the relentless throbbing in your core; his hot gaze immediately flicks down to your crotch as he reads your body language. He licks his lips and lifts his gaze back up to yours, giving you a smile so dirty you feel it in every pleasure point in your body.

"What do you need?" he asks, lazily teasing your nipples while dropping open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive neck. "I need to cum," you grit out, squirming and whimpering as he continues to tease you. "I've been on the edge ever since I saw you in that damn backwards cap tonight."

"You like this look, huh?" he asks, checking his reflection in the mirror before spinning you around to face him. "I love that look," you whisper, your pulse kicking into overdrive as he drops to his knees at your feet, quickly sliding your soaked panties off before wrapping both hands around your waist to lift your ass onto the countertop. "How do you like this look?" he purrs, spreading your thighs wide and maintaining eye contact while licking a long stripe from your ass to your clit. "Yeah … don't stop!" you urge, leaning back against the mirror and resting your feet on his broad shoulders while he follows orders, devouring your clit and pistoning two fingers inside you, hitting your g-spot over and over until you come undone, your cries of pleasure still ringing in your ears a few minutes later as you gasp for breath.

He stands up when your core finally stops squeezing his fingers; he removes them and gives them a thorough suck, moaning deep in his throat when you clasp a hand behind his neck and pull his head down, licking your essence off of his lips before sucking his tongue into your mouth. "My dick is so hard I could hammer nails with it," he groans against your slick lips. "I got something else you can hammer," you purr, gasping when he quickly picks you up and spins you around, your feet barely touching the floor before he bends you over, shoves his shorts and underwear down and buries his cock in your slick heat.

You both groan as your core clamps down hard at the sudden intrusion; he holds himself completely still for several seconds, the sensual feel of his heartbeat throbbing deep inside you drawing a whine from your lips that immediately has him thrusting, shallow at first then full, deep thrusts. You rise up onto your tiptoes and grind back against him, your hard nipples tightening even more as they slide against the countertop, the marble providing a cool contrast to the heat radiating off of Joe as he hits a steady rhythm.

"Feels so fucking good, baby," he grits out, "look at me." You raise your head and meet his eyes in the mirror, biting your lip hard enough to hurt as he drops a hand down to tease your clit. "You like that?" he purrs, giving you a feral smile when you nod your head, your breath fogging up the mirror as you gasp and pant while he continues to ride you hard.

You eventually drop your forehead back down onto the countertop, almost too stimulated to hold eye contact as he expertly pleasures you, drawing whimpers and moans from your lips while lavishing dirty praise in that toe-curling raunchy voice. "I need to see your face," he mutters as he fists a hand in your long hair, wrapping it around his palm a couple times before tugging just hard enough to raise your head off the countertop; his eyes hold your gaze in the mirror for several seconds before he spits on your lower back, your breath catching in your throat as you feel it slide down between your buttcheeks. He quickly releases your hair to chase the spit with his thumb, following it all the way down to tease the edge of your hole as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, pinching your clit with his other hand, his icy-hot eyes locked on yours in the mirror when your climax hits.

You scream his name as the coiled tension inside you unleashes like the crack of a whip; he grabs your hips and tilts your ass up, your feet leaving the floor as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the sound of your flesh slapping together and the lush, wet sound of your drenched core as he pounds into you seemingly magnified in your ears as he follows you over the edge, the hot spurts of his climax making your walls spasm harder before finally tapering off.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thirty minutes later you and Joe step out of the shower, your legs still trembling as he helps you dry off before picking you up bridal-style to carry you to bed. He lays you down gently before joining you, his damp hair slicked back as he gazes down at you in the dim lighting.

"You kinda like the backwards cap, huh?" he teases. "You know I do," you answer, rolling your eyes playfully at his cocky grin. "That was a little déjà vu, right?" he asks, nodding at the bathroom door as he continues. "Having raunchy sex while watching in a mirror with one of us wearing a hat."

You smile when he waggles his eyebrows at you. "Yeah, but you look way better in the backwards cap than I do in the cowboy hat."

"No way," he argues, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips. "Agree to disagree," you giggle, yawning before snuggling against him as he pulls you close.

Break Me

Pairing -> Tom Holland x Actress! Fem! Reader

Word Count -> 6,025

Synopsis -> You thought time apart would be the best for you and Tom. Hell, after your last conversation, you’d be happy if you never saw him again. Haha, silly girl – did you forget you had Uncharted press?

Warnings -> Sexual Context [18+ please and thanks. Short kings have more sex on average, claims Tom; spanking - but this is an established green light in their relationship], swearing, lack of knowledge regarding Twitter, angst and a sense of betrayal lol, talk of PR relationships. Some characters in here are kinda trash, too, ngl. I look some artistic liberties.

Author’s Note -> Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own. This fic is purely fictional (I feel like I need that bolded) and written so I could complete my bingo. I couldn’t help where the inspo took me lol. Read the warnings and connect the dots to see if this is a fic you want to read. This is for @venomsilk’s Valentine’s Bingo. My bingo card is attached under the fic if you want to scroll down and get an idea before reading. I suggest you don’t, though, because the surprise is a part of the ride hehe. I had a lot of fun so I hope you will too :) *forgive me by Chloe x Halle blasts through the speakers*

Sidenote: I could not find a straight answer for how long press is so just let the story ride lol. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, lol. Feedback is much appreciated.

Keep reading

i love being sad

Can you do an Eddie x reader angst where reader is a cheerleader that has a MASSIVE crush on Eddie. She asked him out but because she’s a cheerleader he thinks it a joke and mocks her etc

a/n: hey sweetheartss- thank you so fkn much for all the love on my last Eddie post. This is sorta similar but a different scenario- hope you enjoy <3

warnings: kinda mean!eddie in the beginning obv, reader feeling humiliated, super mega fluffy cute ending!!!!

Nice fucking try - e. m.

—☕️

He was never at any of the games- which fair enough, why would he be?

Yet you couldn’t help the disappointment when you scanned the crowd for a specific mop of curls with no luck. You had practiced the fuck out of this routine and yet no one would probably be looking at you- they’d all look at chrissy instead.

It was like this often. You’d search for Eddie, and when you finally caught him, you’d sit and watch his sporadic movements and tales, admiring him from afar. He had sent a couple of sweet smiles your way; that was your only lifeline to him and you being a possibility. You were a cheerleader after all, and you knew how the basket team treated people like Eddie. You knew he probably thought the same of you but you were aching to prove him otherwise.

You had to do something about the way your heart was on fire for him, a bird beating itself to death in a cage, a moth around a lamppost- you couldn’t keep letting it burn until there was only ashes left.

You knew he had his usual hellfire club meeting today, and suddenly the routine you were doing was the least of your concerns- you even stepped on someone’s toes in the process but it didn’t matter. You were going for it. You were gonna give him the sweetest smile and the most sincere smile and ask Eddie Munson on a date, no matter what any of your friends thought. No matter to what depths your social status would go. You would risk it for him, you were head over heels after all.

After changing quickly while ignoring the annoyed look from your friends ‘cause of your routine slip up, you hurried to the hellfire club room.

Rocking back and forth in your converse, you leaned against a locker while fiddling with the strap of your gym bag. No sooner did the door fling open and several members left the room, mainly ignoring you or giving you a suspicious side-eye, except Mike who waved to you, since you knew Nancy. She was one of the few people who you trusted with your feelings about Eddie. When all had left, you stepped inside to see Eddie packing up from the campaign.

You didn’t say anything, heart suddenly in your throat and palms sweaty. The fabric of his white t-shirt was stretching over his back and he reached over the table, not yet noticing your presence.

“Eddie?” You asked softly, but he still jumped at your voice, a few dices clattering to the ground. The room was ominously lit, casting amber shadows over his pretty face.

“Uh, yes?” He asked slightly confused- suspicion already bleeding from his tone. He picked the dice off of the floor and continued to pack everything away while you stood.

“I uhm- well I don’t know if you know my name-“

“- y/n, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, not seeming particularly interested in what you had to say. You tried not to let it defeat the courage that had etched into your skin, dripping on your tongue.

“Was it a good… campaign?” You asked with a weary voice. You had secretly picked up a little starter guide to the dice game Eddie seemed so passionate about, to try and understand him better.

He scoffed. What kind of fucking foolery was the jocks up to now?

He didn’t even bother replying, knowing that wasn’t the reason you were here, was probably a fucking trick question already. You cheerleaders were like little heathens.

When he didn’t reply you felt your face flush in embarrassment- had you said something wrong?

“Okay well uh- I was wondering if,” you stuttered, fumbled over all your words as you kept fidgeting with your bag. The bird in the cage surely almost done for. The moth was growing tired.

“- if you’d like to do something with me sometime? Like hangout? On- on a date or something like that?” You asked. Your voice was breathy and the words came out a lot faster and unsure than you would’ve liked.

Finally he diverted his attention to you, his figure turning torturously slow, a finger raised in the air in front of him. “You’re asking me out?” He asked incredulously. He didn’t believe they would try such an old trick on him.

“Nice fucking tryyyy Princess,” he said loudly, voice dragging out the words- in case any of your friends were on the other side of the door laughing their asses off.

“What, you’d take me out to a nice dinner, laugh at my jokes and let me take you home to my scrappy little trailer? Is that what you want?” He laughed humourlessly, tongue rolling around his cheek while he stalked towards you.

“I- I mean that sounds fine to me?” You tried, voice more unsteady than ever. You couldn’t tell what was happening but the bird and the moth were lying helplessly in your heart and hot tears tickled the corners of your eyes.

“That sounds fine to you? I’m not falling for this shit, little witch. Run back to your friends, will ya?” He didn’t even spare you another glance as he finished cleaning the table and flung his leather jacket on.

You stood motionless, throat bobbing in an effort not to cry. He hadn’t just rejected you, he had completely misjudged you with no after thought- discarded you because of prejudices. You stormed out of the room with a horrible mix of rage and shame washing over you.

—☕️

“Something sick happened when all you little sheep left hellfire yesterday,” Eddie began as he placed his lunch tray drown dramatically. He glared over to the jocks table, surprised to instead find you sitting alone, sulking.

“What’s up?” Dustin asked curiously, biting into his apple.

“Little miss y/l/n tried to ask me out yesterday. Tried to humiliate me- but this mighty fucking game master didn’t fall for it,” he said almost proudly, digging into his lunch.

“Woah she asked you out? Was that why she was outside hellfire?” Mike said, voice borderline serious in a way that caught both Dustin and Eddies attention.

“Yes, so? Was expecting me to waltz right into that little trap,” he scoffed.

“Y/n asked you out? Dude she likes you! Seriously- I heard Nance and her talking about it a couple weeks ago in the car. She’s like over the moon for you, man.” Mike gestured around wildly to punctuate his words and their meaning.

Eddie stopped eating instantly, whatever was in his hand clattering to the tray as he looked over to your hunched figure again- head down, not eating, not talking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- please tell me you’re joking kid.” He tried desperately, looking between Mike and Dustin who didn’t waver at all. “Nope. No joke. Can’t stop talking about you I swear.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands.

A pretty, nice cheerleader had asked him out- had a fucking crush on him and he mocked her like that? Scared her away? The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks as he dragged his palms over his face and through his hair, reliving the whole experience yesterday; how nervous you had been, how you asked him about this campaign.

Before his mind could prepare him more, he jumped from his seat and ran through the cafeteria, nearly stumbling and drawing all eyes to him as usual.

You looked up, throat twisting into knots as you saw Eddie sit, literally, on his knees on the floor next to the bench where you sat in your solitude.

“Y/n-“ he said, almost out of breath. His eyes were so big and soft, so pleading and glossy, it touched your heart despite the way he broke it yesterday.

“Y/n I’m so sorry. I thought you were messing with me yesterday. Thought it was some kind of joke from your friends or- I didn’t- I didn’t know you meant it but Mike-“ he breathed again, pausing. Everyone was looking at the two of you, your eyes wide at his hasty, guilty confessions.

“Hey, hey-“ you said, placing a hand on his shoulder “-lets uh- go somewhere else, hm?” You tried, standing from the bench. He swallowed loudly before looking around.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he breathed. When he looked at you then, he swore there was a gleam of something in your eyes.

It was hope.

You took his warm hand and dragged him out into the hall, ignoring the mocking from where your former friends sat. Where you used to be.

Eddie stuck his tongue out devilishly as you passed them before disappearing into the silent hall with you.

“Hi,” you said then, a soft smile splaying on your lips. It made Eddie’s insides flutter, knowing you were being genuine.

“Hey,” he replied with a huff, a broad grin adorning his features now too.

“I’m sorry-“ he began again but you cut him off quickly; his dramatic cafeteria gesture was enough of an apology to you, and you couldn’t even blame him for thinking like that with you being a part of the cheer squad.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know I don’t seem like the type, but I promise you I- I think I really like you,” you confessed nervously, eyes darting around the tile floor “and I’m not friends with those dickheads anymore. Swear.”

The bird was beating around the cage, wilder and wilder and the moth dances excitedly around the bright burning lamppost.

“So the offers still- its still on?” He asked hopefully. You couldn’t possibly resist those puppy dog eyes he flashed you, the way his hands fidgeted with the rings adorning his slender fingers.

You nodded eagerly, not daring to believe any of this was really happening. “I’m not much for dinners, though” you added. He laughed. A warm sound you could see yourself getting very used to.

“Me neither. We’ll figure something out, hm?” He asked rhetorically, head tilting to the side to peer down at your hopeful face. Your expression made the guilt from yesterday wash away from his conscience, albeit slowly. God you were gorgeous, and he had half a mind to believe he was dreaming in this moment.

“It’s a date, then.” You stated. Before he could reply, you raised to your tiptoes and kissed his cheek gently.

A furious red blush crept up on his cheek and neck, his lips parted in surprise.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s uh- it’s a date,” he smiled, flustered as he squeezed your hand.

So damn gorgeous, he thought.

Love on Tour - Nashville Night 2 - 01.10.2021

i love them so much but am so jealous at the same time

I love how in love miles and keleigh are. I want that

i literally just watched a tiktok 5 seconds ago where she was like 'yes i have MT tattooed on my butt - and he has my initials on him too' WHAT A FLEX.

i also want to know where he has hers.. HA

Harry at the Berlin listening party via Sony Germany

loving carmen fics rn

nemesis

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you made carmen’s life hell in culinary school, except you had no idea. now he finds out you run a restaurant in Chicago, and he’s confronted with the emotions he projected onto you.

word count: 2.9K

notes: kinda got inspired by the lyric “I’m the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean?” by lana del rey but this was prompted by this ask!!! anyway this starts off in carmy’s culinary school era and then goes to somewhere around the start of S1. this will def get a part two!!

warnings: cursing, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, angst

comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! 

You were like the average person’s depiction of an angel.

You were so incredibly good at what you did, excelling in every class they got, you were unanimously liked by everyone, always helping out your peers and taste testing, and for all he knew you probably fucking rescued baby polar bears in your spare time too.

You were perfect.

And he couldn’t stand it.

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