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good morning!! <333
#pretty normal day today#it's gonna be a bit busy - stuff to do; places to go#but otherwise it'll be good#i just might need to play genshin & hsr a bit earlier so everything goes a bit smoother#also i'm kinda tempted to adjust my f/o list a little#i doubt it'd really change much (i mean; I'm removing f/os i don't talk about so...)#but it feels a little weird bc at least one of them was a main f/o at one point - feels odd removing him lol#but like i can always re-add if the feelings come back#we'll see#anyways#i hope today/tonight is kind to you <33#morning rambles
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every breath you take
➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader
➔ 5.3k words
➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.
➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)
➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33
June, 2013.
After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.
With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect.
Someone else shares your determination, too.
You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.
It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.
It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.
You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now.
Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”
“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”
“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you.
He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.�� He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.
The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.
The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.
Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–
You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ��things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.
He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…
Snap.
With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.
You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.
You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.
You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.
Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.
He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.
But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.
Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.
Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.
You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.
No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.
You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel.
Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.
After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.
“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”
“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”
You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.
A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.
“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.
“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”
You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.
There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life.
If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.
With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.
Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning.
Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same.
With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point.
You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.
Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.
You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.
You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”
“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.
There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.
Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.
His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”
“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.
“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?
“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins.
Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.
Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.
You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–
The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.
“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”
“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”
“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.
Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.
You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.
At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.
The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.
Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.
Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.
His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”
For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.
“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?
“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.
“It was perfect,” you agree.
For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.
And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.
“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”
You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.
The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.
“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.
“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”
“God, yes.”
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.
“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”
“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.
“Ten minutes at the very most.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”
As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”
“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”
It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.
Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”
The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”
“Good.”
You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.
“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”
“A-always is,” you gasp out.
His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.
“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”
“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.
“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”
You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.
The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.
“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”
“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.
“That’s okay. Please.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.
You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.
Later, you remind yourself.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.
You’ve never wanted anyone more.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”
“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”
“I will, I swear, just please��”
The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.
“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”
You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.
“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.
You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”
The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.
You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so.
The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.
“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”
The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.
“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating.
“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”
It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.
“I’m gonna–”
“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”
His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.
“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”
For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–
“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”
“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”
You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”
“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”
His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.
He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”
“Not my fault you’re huge.”
He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.
The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.
“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”
He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.
“How’s my make-up?”
“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”
“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.
His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.
“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.
“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”
“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.
“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.
He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.
➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us smut
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hii idk if you have time for a request rn but would you be willing to write about joost and reader staying in one night but the reader is kinda anxious about them moving things into the bedroom bc she’s not in the mood at all that night and joost notices and is just really gentle and kind and assures her they can just cuddle or whatever and she never has to do anything to please him? i just think that would be really nice to read about him for a change :’) if not, no worries!! thank you sm either way <33
this is such a sweet request!!! ty anon! this was so comforting to write honestly and i hope this comforts u, enjoy <333
wc: 643 (lil one for today)
Like always, you never could point out when the exact transition to this point happened. It’s like one second you were casually talking and the next second you were making out on the couch.
Kissing was nice, but you didn’t want to do anything more than that for now. Your libido was low tonight.
As Joosts hand began to wander further down your waist, fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your bottoms, he felt the way you tensed up.
Usually when you’d get this far, your body language was completely different. Your hands would be roaming all over his body, your muscles would be completely relaxed, and you’d let out those little breaths and noises of satisfaction.
Tonight you seemed still. Stiff. Quiet. Anxious. Joost paused his movements and pulled away.
“You okay?” He asked, his eyebrows knit together in a concerned way.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You lied, Joost could see through your act.
“You can tell me if there’s something wrong, liefje. It’s okay if you’re not in the mood tonight.” He reassured you.
“Yeah. You’re okay if we don’t go any farther tonight?” You looked away as you asked, fingers fidgeting with the chain that dangled around his neck.
“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” Joost nodded, completely unbothered as he sat up, you copied his moments, facing him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” You said nervously as you looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling a bit bad that you ended the moment so abruptly.
“Don’t apologize liefje, you didn’t kill anything.” He shook his head, brushing a strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear.
“Well, I just feel bad cause you’re in the mood and I’m not. I wanna make you feel good and I don’t wanna give you blue balls-“ Joost cut your rambling with a small shush.
“Hey,” He said sweetly, cupping your face and chuckling at your words. “I care about your pleasure over mine. And if your pleasure tonight is just cuddling and watching a movie, then we’ll just cuddle and watch a movie.” He shrugged, unbothered.
“Yeah. I’d like that tonight.” You smiled, “Sorry.” You said apologetically, eyes darting away.
“Hey, look at me. You have nothing to apologize for, schatje.” He soothingly rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks as your eyes met his.
“I don’t care about blue balls or any of that bullshit. I only care if you’re comfortable. So don’t think you have to make yourself do something you don’t want to do just because you want to please me. The only thing that will please me is you being happy and comfortable. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.” A true smile covered your lips, Joost could feel your body finally relax, all stiffness gone.
“Good. You don’t have to thank me either.” He grinned, placing another sweet kiss onto your forehead before leaning forward to the coffee table in front of you, grabbing the remote off of it and leaning back into the couch.
Joost put his arm along the top of the couch and you moved into the open space, snuggling against his side as he moved his arm from the couch to around you. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, a small breath of satisfaction left you.
Joost wasn’t lying. He got the same amount of satisfaction and pleasure out of this as he would if you took things farther and into the bedroom. Hell, seeing you snuggled up comfortably next to him with a smile on your face was more satisfying than sex. It was heartwarming. He desires to see you happy.
And if you were happy like this, Joost could give less of a shit about what his libido wanted.
“Now, what movie are you thinking of tonight?” He asked, holding out the remote to you.
#joost klein x reader#joost klein blurb#joost klein x fem!reader#joost x reader#joost klein fanfic#joost klein fic#requests#anon
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together again
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.1k
WARNINGS: ex-bestfriend!steve, bullying, panic attack, anxiety, mentioned parent death, angst, hurt/comfort, "i've got you"
A/N: sorry this request took so long, but I hope you enjoy anon! Thank you for checking with me first, and I hope this can offer you a little more comfort! <33
"Are you even listening to me?"
"Huh?" You knock yourself out of your stupor and look at Steve, his eyes gazing gravely at you. His arms are crossed, his hair is all styled up to perfection like always, and you think to yourself- how is it that you've been paired up with Steve Harrington, again, for another stupid project? Why you, of all people?
You definitely have to be cursed.
"You heard me, right?" He confirms. "My house after school?"
You nod, almost rolling your eyes a bit. "Yeah, totally." You huff before you ask, "since when have you been one to get a head start on school work?"
He chuckles, but it sounds more sarcastic than genuine, "Since I needed a good grade in this class to graduate, L/N. I'll see you later." He pushes off the wall, sauntering away in those stupid ass jeans that actually kind of make his ass look good. You shake your head, looking away from the boy and turn to face your locker once more.
As soon as you close it with your backpack over your shoulder, you hear familiar whistles coming towards you down the hallway.
Shit.
You start walking, hoping within an inch of your life these shitheads aren't coming to you, but you know better. A hand clamps over your shoulder, squeezing a little too hard for you to know exactly who it is.
Justin Andrews, the biggest dick in Hawkins.
"Heya, sweetheart, you miss me?" He laughs right into your ear.
"Not exactly."
"Oh, I know you did. Where ya' been? Haven't seen you around all week, was sorta starting to miss this pretty ass." His friends laugh beside him as his hand drifts down your shoulder and smacks your ass, catching you off guard and making you flinch farther from his hold.
"Been sick." That's all you answer, thinking maybe putting him off with short responses will get him to find somebody else, but again, you know better than to think this will be different than any other time before.
"Damn, that's a shame. I'm sure those kids of yours got a nice break from ya' then huh?" You glare at him as he offers a wide-grinned smile, winking at you before leaving you with another smack to the ass as a parting gift. As Justin and his pack of friends depart, you hurry away as fast as you can down the hall and out the doors before they can even think of coming back.
Once you finally get to your car and get inside, you throw your stuff to the passenger seat and take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. There was no way you were going to last period after that, and besides, your youngest little brother needed to be picked up from daycare today anyway. Luckily your other four siblings are a bit older and take the bus now, otherwise you probably would have dropped out at this point. You take another deep breath and drive off in hopes of getting your brother quickly, and home on time so you don't show up late to Steve's.
You do not want to deal with an angry Steve.
...
As the universe would have it, everything was against you today.
First, you almost got hit by some drunk pulling out of the bar halfway to the daycare. Once you got to the daycare, you had to wait half an hour since your brother had a tantrum and didn't want to leave in the middle of snack time. By the time you got him out of there, and into your car in his blue booster seat, it had been another 20 minutes. Usually it's about a 15 minute drive home from the daycare, but it ended up being a half hour due to traffic. After you finally made it home, you got a call from your boss asking you to come in again later tonight to take another extra shift since your shitty co-worker hasn't been showing up for two weeks.
At that point, you were about to lose it. You'd just gotten home and now you had to miss another family dinner tonight, much to your brother's disappointment. You wish you had just a moment to breathe, but everything has been so... chaotic lately, it's like you've been running a marathon for a month straight.
You opened the cabinet to see what food was in there, but it was only half a bag of stale potato chips, and a couple boxes of your sisters' favorite cereal. You sighed, holding your empty stomach. Leftovers tonight would have to suffice.
You took a quick glance at the clock at the wall, but did the world's fastest double take when you saw the time 4:30.
SHIT. You think. Steve is going to murder me.
Thankfully, you hear your mom pull in the driveway so at least you're not leaving your brother home alone. You grab your backpack and bolt out the door with your keys in your hand. You scream a quick goodbye to your mom while she watches you pull out of the driveway like a madman, and take off in a rush.
Fifteen minutes later, you're pulling into Steve's huge driveway, slamming the door behind you, and running up to the door with big huffs to try and catch your breath. You knock on the door three times, and pull your hand back down when you see the door already opening in front of you. When the door is opened, you're confronted by the boy you were dreading to see.
"I'm sorry-" you begin to apologize, but Steve immediately cuts you off.
"Are you serious? I asked you if after school worked and you told me it was fine, and now you're an hour and a half late!"
"Steve-" you try again, but he continues. You stand there, taking in his anger and frustration, and all you can do is blankly stare and nod, not even knowing what you're agreeing with. You shut your eyes and look at the ground, willing the tears to stay back while you twist your fingers in your hands. You don't even know when his voice lost its edge or when it even stopped at all, or when you'd been pulled inside and asked if you were alright. Your eyes are still closed, but your head feels like it's going to explode and you can't hear what he's saying. The tears are streaming down your face before you can help it, and your hands start shaking from how hard you're trying to hold back.
Steve's so taken aback, he can't even speak. He hasn't seen you like this in a long time, not since your dad died and you practically became a parent to your siblings. His heart breaks a little bit at the sight of you, and he feels a part of his old self coming back, wanting to comfort you and protect you just like he did growing up. Just like he's done his whole life, apart from the entirety of this year. He doesn't even care he's supposed to hate you and you're supposed to hate him in this moment, all he knows is that he's the only person that can help you right now, and he's going to do just that.
Steve's face loses its concern and he jumps into protective mode, bringing his hands up to hold either side of your face to get you to look at him.
"Sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me, yeah? What's going on, talk to me."
You stubbornly shake your head and refuse to look up at him. Your chest is still heaving rapidly, and he can tell you can't catch your breath.
"Don't be stubborn right now, I can't help you if you don't let me and you need to let me help you. I can't have you passing out on my floor now can I?" He tries to joke, but you don't get distracted, you keep your eyes down even though they've opened. He sighs, dropping one of his hands to grab yours and place them over his chest. "Slow down, take a deep breath, love."
"I-I can't-" you sputter out to the best of your ability, letting your hand ball his shirt up into a fist.
"Yes, you can. Take a good deep breath," you listen to him momentarily, following what he's doing, and when you do he nods and gives you a nice, soft smile, "there ya go, love, you got it. Do it again."
Seeing him be like this for you again brings you back to all those times you've needed him before, the memories almost came flooding back when you heard his loud voice turn soothing in an instant, just for you. His touch had always been grounding, always took off the pressure and allowed you to come back down, and you hadn't expected it to be the same after so much time apart, but now, it's like nothing changed. He's still Steve- he's still your Steve.
That thought alone comforts you more than anything else.
"Steve-" you whisper softly, "I'm so- sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, don't-"
"No, I have to. I've been horrible to you, and now you're helping me- I just-" you drop your head on his chest, and finally tell him everything. "I feel like I've just been going and going non-stop, and today was it, it was my absolute breaking point. After you, and Justin-"
"Justin? Are you- Are you serious? Is he still giving you shit?"
You gulp, "yeah," but you shake your head quickly, "but he's not even the worst thing, I just... ugh," you stop yourself before you start crying again but Steve feels like he knows.
"When's the last time you got some sleep?"
"I don't know.. a couple days ago?"
"Oh my god," he drops his head back and groans, which actually makes you laugh a bit. He immediately looks down at you, realizing the talking stopped you from panicking, or at least distracted you from it. "Hey," he nudged you a bit, getting you to look up at him, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't of yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn't have left you that night-"
"That's not your fault, Steve. I pushed you away."
"Yeah, and I shouldn't have let you."
You look at each other for a moment, like, really look at each other. It's been so long since you've been able to hold each other like this, it almost doesn't feel real.
"C'mon, let's get you something to eat."
"It's fine-" you start, before he cuts you off again.
"No, shut up. If you haven't been sleeping, you definitely haven't been eating either, so let's go." He left no room for debate, so you just took his hand and followed him, letting him lead you through his house.
He gives you a couple of your favorite snacks, since he didn't have any sort of meals yet, but you seemed very content, so he thought it was better than nothing. He let you take your time, rubbed your back while you told him about the rest of your shitty day, and grabbed your hand again when he started up the stairs to his room.
"What about the project?" You asked.
"That can wait. You need some sleep first."
"Steve-"
He shook his head, "Nope. Not happening."
At last, you gave up and followed his lead again, which, as much as you'd hate to admit it, it felt nice letting someone else lead you around for a change instead of the other way around. For so long, it's been you taking charge and always bossing your siblings around, but it feels relieving to have Steve with you again to remind you it didn't always have to be that way.
You pulled back the covers in his bed and laid down, not even having to ask for Steve to join you, him already doing the same on the other side. Almost as if no time had passed, you curled up against one another, resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.
"Go to sleep. I've got you."
His hands rub gentle circles on your back, soothing you and releasing the tension from your body as you slowly relax enough to fall asleep. You fight to keep your eyes open as long as you can, savoring this moment with him, almost as if he won't be here when you wake up.
"Don't worry, I'll be here."
Those words pull at your heartstrings, making you hold him tighter and bury yourself into him deeper, if you even can. Knowing that you're together again has you finally closing your eyes, and falling into a peaceful sleep.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington#stranger things
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Congrats on 2K Kait!!!! And this celi is gonna be so fun, but don’t stress yourself out <333
☕️☕️☕️ I’d love a drink of “carefully initiating slight intimacy (like holding hands, hugging, etc.) since they aren't quite sure how far they could go with where they are” from List D with Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
Thank you so much <33
may have strayed a little from the prompt but i hope you enjoy anyways!
jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.3k, join the celebration!
To make it extremely clear, you were not dating Jake Seresin.
He was one of the most remarkable people you’d ever had the pleasure of being friends with, kind and funny and braver than most folks would ever admit, but no, you weren’t dating him.
You really, really wanted to, though. You just weren’t sure if that’s what he wanted too.
Sometimes you got the feeling he did, like when Nat had caught him staring at you from behind the rim of his beer and very loudly called him out in front of everyone for unashamedly ogling you. He’d vehemently denied any said ogling with flaming red cheeks, but you noticed him doing it again three more times that same night.
Or when you went to the farmer’s market with him one Sunday morning and it was so crowded you were positive you’d lose him in the throngs of people. He slid his hand into yours that time, lacing your fingers together tightly as you tugged him to tent after tent.
Sometimes you thought about how you weren’t all that slick either.
Like that time Mickey invited you to the beach with all of them, and you got so distracted by Jake’s shirtless chest during dogfight football you nearly missed the pass he’d lobbed you. It all worked out in the end though, because when Jake’s team inevitably won, he’d hugged you and spun you around gleefully.
It was worth it to feel the press of his chest against yours.
You found yourself looking for him everywhere you went, regardless of whether he was actually there or not. You’d like to run into him at the mundane places—grocery store, laundromat, coffee shop—just so you’d be able to spend more time with him.
But those were totally platonic, good friend things to do, right?
Like always, your eyes searched for Jake as soon as you stepped into the Hard Deck tonight, scanning the packed bar for any sign of that telltale blond head of hair you wanted to see so badly.
Today especially, because you’d had one hell of a day at work. Between spilling coffee on your shirt first thing in the morning, to your shitty boss lecturing you about an error that wasn't even your fault, to hitting the worst traffic imaginable on the way home, you could really use one of his special Jake pep talks right now.
Much to your dismay, you spotted Rooster first, and although you did enjoy his presence, he wasn’t the man you were looking for. You made your way over anyways, greeting everyone as cheerfully as you could given your circumstances, still looking around for Jake.
“Hangman’s getting another round, if you wanted to put your order in.” Nat informed you, nodding towards the bar. Lo and behold, there he was a head above the rest, broad shoulders helping you spot him almost immediately. You weren’t sure how you’d missed him upon first glance.
You thanked Nat quickly, wasting no time in making your way over until you’d pushed up next to him at the bartop. Maybe a little too quickly, because your shoulder bumped against his arm a bit harshly, and his head whipped in your direction, probably an expletive at the tip of his tongue. When he saw it was just you, his expression did a complete 180, now a grin so big his eyes crinkled at the edges.
“Was wonderin’ when you’d be showin’ your face around here tonight.” His smooth, Texas twanged voice had part of the tension dropping from your shoulders. He seemed to notice because his smile dropped a little bit and he tilted his head, regarding you with those pretty green eyes you always found yourself getting lost in. “Y’alright, darlin’?”
“Yeah. Just…horrible day.” You sighed, drumming your fingers against the weathered wood. Jake raised an inquisitive brow, his invitation for you to talk about it. So you did, telling him every shitty little thing that happened since the moment you woke up to the second you pulled into the bar parking lot.
As soon as you were done, it instantly felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders—not all of it, but enough to the point where you didn’t feel like you were about to burst into tears at any given moment. Jake’s eyes hadn’t left yours the whole way through, keeping you tethered to him with every slow nod and brow crease.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite a time today.” He said quietly, sliding his hand over yours. His palm was calloused and warm, thumb rubbing along your knuckles soothingly. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. Wish I coulda been there for you, maybe knocked some common sense into your idiot boss.”
“Can I just—can you hug me? I really feel like I need a hug right now.” You weren't sure if that was asking too much of him, considering you didn’t quite know where the two of you stood in terms of what you were to each other, but you had to ask.
“Sure. Of course I can, c’mere.” Jake opened his arms for you as soon as the words left your mouth, letting you bury yourself against his chest like you’d done it a thousand times before.
But really, you’d never hugged Jake before. Not like this, at least. A few brief greeting hugs, thank you hugs, celebrating your win at partners beer pong at a barbeque hugs—but you'd never felt so safe in someone’s arms as you felt in Jake’s right now. They were strong, circling around you tightly, one hand smoothing up and down the length of your spine slowly, the other cradling the back of your head. You felt like you could weather a storm and still be okay here.
He smelled like laundry detergent and musky cologne when you inhaled, strong but somehow still comforting at the same time, and the cotton of his flannel shirt was soft against your cheek. When you were this close to him, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took, the way his breath hitched when you hugged him a little tighter than he’d expected.
And you could’ve been wrong, but you swore you could feel his heart beating a little too fast.
“Thank you, Jake. I really needed that.” You sighed, pulling away from him (a little too soon for your liking, if you were being totally honest). “Sorry if it was weird, I just—”
Jake clicked his tongue, smiling at you warmly. “Don’t be sorry, darlin’, I’m glad I could help. You can hug me anytime, alright?”
He licked his lips, clearing his throat before speaking again, voice a lot less confident than you’d ever heard it before. His cheeks were tinged pink too, maybe from the heat of the crowded bar. (Or maybe from you.) “And maybe next time you have a bad day, you can call me? We can go out for lunch or somethin’, help get your mind off the shitty things.”
“You’ll be at work, Jake.”
“The Navy does give us lunch breaks too, y’know.” He joked, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge.
“It’s still clear across town. I couldn't.”
“I’d be there in a heartbeat. I’d even take the damn jet if I had to.”
You couldn't help but let the corners of your mouth lift up into a shy smile. “Pretty sure that's illegal, Lieutenant.”
“But would you? Take me up on the lunch date?” Date. He said date. You smiled even bigger because Jake looked nervous, and he never looked nervous. You’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t enjoying the effect you seemed to be having on him right now.
“I would.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Jake gathered the beers Penny had set on the bar for him into his hands, shooting you one of those shiny, charming smiles that made you fall for him in the first place as he backpedaled towards the rest of your friends. “Maybe we can do a test run, say…tomorrow, noon? I’ll pick you up.”
“I’d love that.”
So no, you weren't dating Jake Seresin. But maybe, just maybe, after a few lunch dates, you could be.
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)
#kait's 2k!#jake seresin#hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fluff#jake hangman seresin#hangman seresin fluff#jake seresin fic#hangman seresin fic#top gun maverick
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hii, saw your latest plotbunny and would love to see something for Kageyama or Hoshiumi<33 hope you have a great day!
Very late to the party, but I didn't forget this (yes I did)
The bouquet is small, but consists of different, brightly colored flowers, enveloped by dark green leaves.
Kōrai squints as he walks closer and you laugh at the face he's making.
"Don't look like that," you tell him, pulling him closer to kiss him, "you just won the game!"
"Yeah, but who got you flowers?" He points out, staring at it like it personally offended him. "You're my fiancée!"
"No one," you smile, lifting them to show him, "These are for you, honey."
"You're kidding." He looks down at them and up at you. "Why did you get me flowers? I always get you flowers!"
"Exactly." You wink. "It was about time to make sure you get pampered as well. Do the boys have any plans for celebration tonight or are we free to go eat wherever we want?"
"Kageyama and Ushijima are going for Curry, but we can do what we want. There's this fancy restaurant we could try, though I doubt we'll get a place there."
"Oh, no, I already booked us a table," you smile when his steps falter.
"You did? Heh? How? When?"
"When we had the date for today's game. I told you, it's time for you to get pampered."
"But- but- I- but-"
"Yep," you press your lips to his cheek, grinning, "I'm two steps ahead of you. You'll never guess what kind of dessert I've asked for tonight. "
"Plums?" He asks, voice a little breathless, "Baby, you're spoiling me too much."
"Too much?" You look at him with that smirk that has his heart racing. "After you bought me diamonds for passing an exam?"
"You were studying really hard for that exam."
"Getting me flowers every week?"
"Don't want you to get the idea that I don't care about you."
You smile. "I do. I know you care about me. You know what's the best thing you did this month?"
"This month?" He wracks his brain for a second. "I... I didn't buy you anything fancy this month. Did we go out for a Lunch Date? Shit, did I forget something?"
"No," you smile, cuddling into him in the privacy of your car. "But you bought me Chicken Wings to go along with my Pads."
He blushes a furious red.
"For the last time, I didn't know that wasn't what Pads with Wings meant!"
You're giggling. "I know, I know. It's just... it was so sweet how you went out of your way for me. Also, I love wings. Good choice on them."
"Next time you pass an exam I'm just going to get you wings, no diamond." He threatens and the laughter that peels out of you makes him feel better than winning the game.
#my writing#plotbunny games#dira.asks#ask games#hoshiumi Kourai#Hoshiumi x reader#hoshiumi fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu
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hi haley love, i’m probably sending too many requests i’m so sorry i just feel like i’m being heard here and i feel seen. i’ve been having so many panic and anxiety attacks and i was wondering if you can write something where broken promises stucky help the reader get through it or honestly whoever you’d like. i love you and i hope you’re doing good 🥺
𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬
warning: anxiety/panic attack, mentions of anxious feelings, angst, fluff, dd/lg themes, soft!dark!stucky x little!reader
a/n: hi sweetheart, i'm so sorry you've been feeling that way love 🥺 but i hope you're doing a lot better now and you can always talk to me if you need help, my dms are always open my love <33 also i know you said broken promises but i think this could work as a general fic and for broken promises too, i hope you like it lovely <33 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
"Sweetheart I need you to put your coat on so that we can leave, we're already very behind on our schedule today. We still have to make dinner when we come home, I promised Steve we would try to cook tonight." Bucky rambled as he quickly slipped his boots on.
It had been kind of a hectic morning. Lots of errands to run, lots of things that needed to be done before a peaceful night in with Steve, who was coming back home after two weeks away.
However, when you woke up this morning, your head was pounding and it felt like heart was about to burst out of your chest. You were feeling uneasy as anxious thoughts were running through your head about everything and nothing at the same time. You didn't know why but sometimes you would have days like these where your anxiety got the best of you, and traumatic memories from your past felt like they occurred moments ago.
You needed a mental health day. There was no way you'd be able to handle a whole day of running errands with Bucky. Even getting out of bed this morning felt like an impossible task.
Of course if you told him how you were feeling, he'd be understanding, and he could help you feel better too. But you were in no mood to talk about your feelings.
It seems unfair but you were hoping Bucky would be able to just sense how you're feeling so you wouldn't have to vocalize how you felt. Normally Bucky would have noticed that you were feeling triggered, however, with it being a stressful and busy day, he was too busy trying to complete everything on his to-do list for today before Steve came home.
Unfortunately, with all these anxiety built up in your chest and how exhausted you were after helping Bucky clean the house, you were feeling more and more vulnerable. You felt so weak. So small. And Bucky had yet to notice.
For some reason, he assumed you were being difficult because of little things that happened throughout the day. First, you ran out of your favourite cereal for breakfast. Then, while you were picking up the dishes from the table, you spilled chocolate milk on one of your favourite sweaters.
There were some other small incidences but after each one Bucky assured you there is an easy fix, and that after today, things would be less chaotic.
Currently, he was trying to get you to slip your coat on but instead you just stood there in front of the front door, huffing with your arms crossed. Normally, Bucky would've laughed and called you adorable for trying to look intimidating but right now he was only getting annoyed since you were now an hour behind on your schedule.
"Baby please just listen to me, just this once. We can even have get my girl a new stuffie while we're out?" Bucky crouched down in front of you, trying to help you put your sneakers on. He could tell you were starting to feel kind of small, and he knew he might be able to bribe you with the promise of a stuffie.
Instead, you just shook your head and kicked him as he tried to put your sneakers on your feet for you. He groaned slightly in pain ad stood up immediately, all the patience having left his body at this point.
"Okay, put your shoes and your coat on right now, and meet me by the car in five minutes, understood?" He snapped. He was clearly very upset with your behaviour and he was not in the mood to deal with it right now.
You were frustrated and feeling even more little now, and you couldn't figure out what to do. All you knew was that you did not want to go out. You just wanted to stay home. Deciding to leave without saying a word, you picked up the sneakers and threw them at the front door before starting to walk away and towards the stairs. However, you didn't get very far as Bucky caught your arm and roughly picked you up in his strong arms. Judging from the expression on his face, he was certainly angry now if he wasn't before.
"What did I just tell you, huh? I'm not in the mood to deal with a brat today. When I put you down, you're going to pick up your sneakers and put them on before joining me outside by the car, is that clear?" He said sternly, while still trying not to lose his temper. Tears started to fill your eyes as soon as you heard his harsh tone towards you, and they almost fell as you noticed he nearly rolled his eyes at them, "Don't you dare with the tears, or I’ll give you something to cry about, doll."
After that, you couldn't help it anymore. Tears started rapidly streaming down your face as you sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. Bucky was shocked at first, he didn't realize you were this upset. He instantly began to apologize as he carried you over to the couch.
Whispering, sweet gentle words and apologizes while trying to calm you down was clearly not going to work this time. No matter how hard he tried to comfort you, you were inconsolable. You could feel your entire body shaking, and no matter how hard Bucky tried to calm you down, you just felt like your heart was on fire. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. Moving your hand up to rub your chest gently, you tried to get yourself to slow down and work on your breathing. Bucky quickly caught on and carefully picked you up from his lap and put you down on the couch. He quickly got up, and sat down in front of the couch, kneeling in front of you.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright, baby. I've got you." He took your other hand in his, rubbing it gently while trying to get you to focus on him, "Just look at me, baby. I need you to look at me so I can help you, babygirl. I need you to focus on my breathing, okay? Do you think you can do that for me sweet girl?"
You looked at him for a second before carefully nodding, making him smile. He leaned up for a second to give you a quick kiss before settling back down and trying to help you again.
Focusing on Bucky, and trying to follow as him as he instructed you to take deep breaths with him. It seemed to be working, however, the anxious thoughts were still there. You didn't know how to tell Bucky though you knew he'd definitely wanna know what just happened.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Bucky said, as if he just read your mind, "I mean if you want to talk about it then I'm here for you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. I just wanna know whether or not you're okay, doll."
"I..." You looked away, feeling even more nervous than before. It felt like your body was screaming at you to tell him why you were acting this way and how you felt right now. But you just couldn't, "I just want to be alone for a bit. I don't want to go out, I know you need to get some errands done but I don't think I wanna come with."
"Fuck the errands. So what if we order in again? No big deal, who cares. I need to make sure that you're okay, I can't just leave you alone after that."
"But I'd rather be alone right now, I promise I'm alright." You muttered nervously.
"Sweetheart, are you feeling little at all? Do you think you need da-" Bucky tried pulling you onto his lap to hug you, but instead you pushed him away and interrupted him.
"I'm not. I wanna be left alone." You nearly snapped as you got off the couch. You didn't know why but you were feeling very angry all of a sudden. The anxiety was still there but the implication of being too weak, vulnerable, or small to handle this on your own was making you a little frustrated.
"Umm alright, sweetheart, if you're sure. I guess I'll see you in an hour then, doll?" Bucky got up from the couch awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he felt slightly confused about what just happened. He knew it was a bad idea to leave you alone but he wanted to respect your decision and give you your space. He quickly left after that, and the second you heard him drive off in his car, you fell back on the couch and started crying once again.
You felt weaker than before and somehow the horrible feeling had reached your stomach making you feel a bit queasy. You couldn't help but wish that you hadn't asked Bucky to leave you alone. You wished that Steve was here too. You felt so small right now, you did not want to be alone. You curled up into a little ball on the couch and hoped that Bucky would be back soon.
After about ten more minutes of crying, you heard the front door open. You quickly looked up from the couch, hoping Bucky had decided to abandon his errands and come home to you instead. However, to your surprise, it seemed that Steve had come home a few hours early, He strolled into the living room towards you with a beaming smile on his face as he was excited to see his girl after being away for so long. Although, that smile disappeared pretty quickly when he noticed your tear-stained face.
"Oh no, pretty girl, what happened to you? Are you hurt?" Steve knelt down in front of you, looking at you with his concern-filled eyes. You quickly shook your head in reply, letting him know that you're not hurt. He could already tell that you were feeling little right now, and didn't seem to be up for much talking, "Bubba, where's Bucky? Why isn't he here with you right now?"
"He left...errands..." You mumbled, looking down at the ground, feeling guilty for practically kicking Bucky out of the house. You looked up at Steve and felt your guilt getting even worse when you noticed the shift in his demeanour. Watching him take his phone out of his pocket and angrily text someone.
"Baby come on, let's get you upstairs to bed for now, okay?" Steve said as he gently rubbed your back for a bit before getting up to you carry you upstairs in his arms. You heard his phone buzz in his pocket, and he stopped in his tracks to check and see what it was before continuing to walk upstiars again.
On the way to your room, you couldn't help but lean into Steve's touch making him smile slightly. He kissed the top of your head before gently putting you down on your bed.
You gulped, feeling guilty about receiving all these sweet attention from him while he clearly seemed mad at Bucky for leaving you alone when you told him what happened downstairs. Although, it was you who asked him to leave you alone, "Daddy please don't be mad. I asked him to leave."
Steve frowned at your words before shaking his head in reply, "Sweet girl, I'm not angry. I'm sorry I made you feel that way but I promise I'm not, okay?"
You slowly nodded in response, still unconvinced. Steve sighed in response and began gently rubbing your back as he spoke, "I'm not angry, I'm just a little upset that Bucky wasn't here while you were feeling this way, pretty girl."
You gulped before answering him in a quiet tone, "I asked him to leave me alone."
"Why would you do that, pretty girl?" Steve asked, although he already knew what happened as Bucky already texted him and explained the situation to him. He was upset that Bucky left, but he wasn't angry once Bucky explained that you asked him to leave. Now, he was just upset that you were all alone while feeling this way.
"Was feeling anxious...didn't wanna talk about it...still don't. Don't really know why I asked him to leave. I'm sorry..." You said, sniffling near the end of your sentence as the tears started flowing down your cheeks once again.
"Oh my sweet girl, it's okay, it's alright. There's no need to apologize, okay? Sometimes feelings like anxiety, or even sadness, make us do silly things. It happens to all of us, even me and Bucky." He carefully wiped your tears away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "I'm right here, okay? I've got you, sweetheart. You just get some rest, and when Bucky comes home, we'll have a nice night in with some of your favourite pasta and whatever movie you want to watch, okay?"
You smiled and nodded your head in response. Steve smiled back at you and leaned down to kiss you again before getting up to pick up your favourite stuffie for you to cuddle with as you took your much needed nap.
taglist/moots: @starobi @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @babyhoneyriv @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @buckysugar
#daddy!steve#daddy!bucky#soft!dark fic#soft!dark bucky barnes#soft!dark!stucky x little!reader#soft!bucky#soft bucky#soft!dark steve rogers#soft!dark bucky x reader#soft!dark steve x reader#soft steve rogers#daddy!stucky x little!reader#daddy!stucky#bucky x reader#steve x reader#steve rogers fic#brokenpromisesblurb#brokenpromisesseries#brokenpromisesau!
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Hi! First of all: love your writings! Somehow you manage to give me exactly what I want. I have read the lessen your stress one, amazing. Thank you. Lots of loves from the other side of the screen.
Now, I would like to request a one shot Micah/F!Reader (or GN reader if you want) where a really sweet and kind Reader likes Micah and actually wants to sleep with him but is a virgin and kind of shy, in contrast with the rough, brute Micah we all know, who will obviously want to sleep with reader too (either bc he likes them back or simply bc he’s desperate and wants sex, you decide, just please don’t miss characterize him too much, I like my Micah as the asshole he is :’) <3
Thank you very much and I really appreciate your work! <3 have a good day!
thank you sm for the compliments <33 and dw because i like to also keep my men just as scummy at times🙏
Some aspects might be similar to 'Untouched' here (still attached to that fic like a leech chat..) but i'll make sure it still sounds new!
Lose Some; Gain Some. — Micah Bell/Reader
tags: Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, but just a bit at the end, its micah he doesnt know how to be gentle sorry guys, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell
summary: You would rather take over doing everyone's chores in camp forever, than ask the question thats currently been plaguing your mind; one of your lowest lows, probably. You were told that a woman's virginity is a precious thing, how you had to lose it to the right person. This, however, you found to be total bullshit. And you wanted nothing more than the man who was Micah Bell to do it for you.
a/n: first ask yippiee!! i am so busy with exams oh lord i barely made time for this😭 i hope its to your liking!!! second ao3 post today im on a roll actually🙏🙏
words: 3,201 | AO3 LINK
Still being a virgin at this age is almost laughable. Well, it is; the girls haven't stopped teasing you since you told them during a game Mary-Beth told everyone about. You had to answer the question asked by Karen—about your sex life—or drink. You answered that you were still a virgin, and a few of them laughed; haven't stopped making jabs at you since. It's almost irritating.
And, your irritation made you slip up—by saying you'd lose your virginity tonight.
"What!? Tonight? With who?" Karen immediately snapped her head in your direction and away from the fresh laundry she and you were folding. There go the consequences of your actions. Who the hell do you even say?
You put down your own laundry back into your lap. "Well," You'll either have to lie your ass off, or go for the truth; but you sure as hell were not going for the latter. "guy I met in the saloon while we were still in Valentine, we've been writing." Not too bad.
Karen chuckled, thankfully buying into your lie. "Well, ain't I happy for you! It's about damn time, anyway." She goes back to the chore, like yourself, and continues your previous conversation.
Let's think logically—or, as logically as you could—about this; you don't exactly trust finding a random man in a bar to do this with, so who is going to eagerly take your virginity? Who would you ask that wouldn't tell anyone in camp about it, keep it between you two for the exchange of taking it from you? Who would you want to take your virginity?
You thought about how sweet Arthur would be; how he'd probably understand and treat you right, talk you through everything while praising you for following his instructions so well. Or maybe Charles; A gentle giant that would worship you as should be, show you how everything is done while talking in that deep tone you love to hear.
And then your mind went completely south of the previous two. You thought about how greedy he'd be, touching and moving his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every crevice under his rough fingertips. How he'd see taking your virginity as a precious thing, how you were told growing up, something you wanted him to have—and also as the biggest ego boost ever. He'd probably be a complete tease, too, nor would he talk you through the process like the other two. He'd probably just go for it, no instructions as you scrambled for what you had to do while he—
Jesus Christ, that's the last person you should be even 'just considering'.
Micah Bell is NOT an option here; forget it. Even if the heat between your legs didn't agree with these terms, you would not give your first time to that bastard. He was just an egotistical, rude, mouthy degenerate. Why the hell was the thought of how poorly he'd treat the situation getting you so worked up? You're practically soaking your garments over this bastard; and that's a problem.
Oh, but it's so tempting; this, unfortunately, wasn't the first time you've caught yourself thinking of him, imagining him in bed—which is reasonably worse than the former. Could you refuse yourself this small want? When you think about it, he might be one of the only people here who'd jump to get intimate without question, seeing how he catcalls and flirts with most of camp; including yourself a few times. God, were you really going to do this? How would you even bring it up?
This was something you needed to think of on the way, because it was nearing nighttime and you'd probably lose him to the darkness in the outskirts of camp, where he's usually found. As soon as you finished folding the laundry, you excused yourself from Karen and went to find Micah, thinking over what you would say to him. You had a whole dialogue figured out by the time you spotted him smoking by Baylock, probably having gotten done tending to the horse after the job he went on today. You really had to just brace yourself and follow your little plan, while hoping it'll turn out how you envisioned it to.
He noticed you approaching while you were a few steps away, the nervousness in your body language not hard to make out; hands clasped together, eyes focusing everywhere but on his own, your steps almost reluctant. He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a drag from the cigarette. "Look who it is; worried I'mma bite 'ya?"
You were barely able to give a reaction to his words, your nerves making you go almost silent. "Hah, no.. no, I'm..." Come on! We practiced this six times already! As soon as your eyes darted to his own greyish-blues, you lost your goddamn ability to speak. For the love of God; get your shit together. "Listen; this is very hard for me to even say out loud." Well, it's a good start.
Micah's eyebrows furrow slightly, your sudden shyness compared to the usual quips you could muster up back to his flirting or teasing very abnormal. But, he doesn't comment on it, wanting to hear you out before he teased you further. "Go on then, girl." He speaks, tossing his cigarette elsewhere.
The embarrassment this will leave you in will be history. "Okay.. so, uh.. I need your help with something—let's say." Your words just make him more confused; speaking to him in these absurd riddles. "Would you just.. hear me out?"
The blonde man nods after a moment, folding his arms over his chest while leaning back on the tree. Okay, you can get the words out, trust yourself.
"Would you.. and it's just a one-time thing, may I add." You start, a blush creeping up your neck and to your cheeks as you tried to think of what you were saying; you were about to ask Micah to get intimate with you. Yeah, you don't think this low can be matched. Nonetheless, no giving up now. "Would you take.. take my uh.. virginity?" As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to hold back from fleeing the scene. "Listen—I lied to the girls and I just.. fuck, it's you."
Micah's had a small smirk on his face, mostly directed towards your nervous and shy state, until the sentence finally left your mouth. His smile dropped and he assumed he heard you wrong. "What'd you say.? Would I take.. your virginity?" He repeats back to you, definitely sure he's heard you wrong. But as you slowly nod your head, unable to open your mouth any longer, his eyes slowly widen a little more, rubbing his chin in thought. "Well, goddamn. You're one bold 'lil thing, ain'tcha?" Here comes the teasing you envisioned.
You roll your eyes to the comment. "I don't need your comments, Micah. You in or not? I'll gladly find someone else." You threaten, biting your cheek. Don't make me find someone else.
He perks up at your empty threat. "Hey—no, don't threaten me now, doll," He leans off the tree and gets right in your personal space, hands on his gun belt. "you know I love to help a lady in need out." He purrs at you, looking down almost menacingly.
"Good," You murmur, the closer he got the more nervous it made you. "then.. it's settled." It's only when he stands right before you, hands running up from your outer thighs to your sides, that you start processing what you've gotten yourself into.
His hands glide over your waist, feeling you up through your shirt. "Surprised yer still untouched, many would love a little body like this in their hands." His words and the small squeeze to your sides send butterflies straight to your stomach; you could practically lose it right then and there. "But it's only little ole me that gets it, huh?" His claim is followed by a darkish chuckle, ringing in your ears. He stops his hands over your ribs and the underside of your chest, looking down shamelessly at the little cleavage your shirt provides. "Well then; my tent?"
It took him barely a few seconds to get you through the flaps of his tent, tying the canvas shut and making sure you've got the bit of privacy camp life can offer. It takes him even less time to shove you down to his cot, seating yourself on the mattress and looking up at him settling atop you, knees around your outer thighs. "Don't you look pretty under me like this." His hands cup around the underside of your jawline, thumbs running up and down the outline of your face. "So, ever kissed a feller?"
You raise an eyebrow at the question. "Not that much of a prude." Your quick response gets a gruff chuckle out of him for a brief moment, before he'd leaned down and captured your lips with his, setting a nice and quick pace for the kiss. You return it with just as much swiftness, hand reaching for his belt buckle and gripping it, earning an appreciative sound out of Micah. "Good girl," His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, trying to enter your mouth rather quickly; but you don't complain, quickly complying. He gets himself an immediate taste of you, tongue swirling around in your mouth as if mapping out the contour of the body part. He goes back to exploring the rest of your body with his hands, moving them all around your sides and waist before stopping at the hem of your shirt and breaking away from your mouth briefly. "Let me see what I'm workin' with, doll." You breathe in the air that the kiss knocked out of you for a moment before wordlessly nodding, lifting your arms up for him to slide the shirt off, peeling it away from your torso and arms as you're sat almost bare from the stomach up now, only covered by your bra. Your shirt is tossed elsewhere, and he goes back to appreciating the view in front of him—or well, under him.
"Oh, you're perfect, little lady." He doesn't hesitate to reach his hands to your chest almost immediately, cupping you through the bra while running his thumbs on the upper flesh that was exposed. His fingers are as calloused as you envisioned, as if moulding your soft flesh with every swipe of his digits on your skin. He knows his way around your body, probably from the experience you lack. One hand stops groping you and moves to your back again, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it. Why is it that your shyness is only hitting you now? As soon as he starts moving your bra straps down to reveal your bare chest to him, you finally process that he's about to see you nude, and you definitely show some signs of reluctance. He notices your sudden demeanour change and looks from your chest to your eyes. "Come on, I don't judge, princess. Bet you're realll purty under here." His finger slips between your cleavage and hooks to the middle of your bra that connects the two pieces as he tugs at the material, slowly moving it away from your bare chest. It slips off your shoulders and arms, and you feel like a prey being inspected by it's hunter under that dark gaze Micah's blues hold. "Like I said.. damn beautiful."
Your shyness and nerves don't pass him by, and he doesn't want you to feel uneasy while he gets what he wants, so he decides to try and ease you up with another kiss, leaning up and snaking one hand to the back of your head to pull you in while the other went to your jean button, undoing it before moving to the zipper. The kiss definitely helped calm you a bit, your hands on his shoulders now as you clung to his shirt, kissing back with a small hum in your throat. He works your zipper down and hooks his fingers into your waistband, breaking the kiss again. "Lift your hips real quick," When you comply, he pulls your jeans down and you help him by kicking them off when they reach your ankles. His hand finds itself right between your legs, swiping at your still-clothed and warm entrance to find you just as aroused as he was. "damn, lookat'chu. Surprised a lady sweet as you'd be this wet over fuckin' a bastard like me." You almost moan at his comment, your garments definitely as damp as you felt them between your legs, drawing your shyness and embarrassment to a whole new level.
He leans away from you to strip his jeans off, first unclasping his gun belt and placing it over to where your shirt was, slowly moving into unzipping and undoing any other restraint that stopped him from getting naked. He looks to you—just watching him strip his pants off—and chuckles briefly. "Well? Get them panties off, sweetheart. Ain't need experience for that." You snap your eyes away from the small peek of a happy trail on his stomach that you, shamelessly at that, were staring at and stand up momentarily to slip your undergarments off, tossing them just shy of the other articles of clothing. "Mm, good, good.." He hums, letting his jeans drop before wasting no time with his drawls, slipping them off and freeing the leaky, visibly throbbing erection that was hidden in it. Your eyes scan over the length; it doesn't look too big, you can probably take it...
But where many assume Micah lacks in length—he makes up for in thickness.
He positions you to turn and bend over the cot slightly, hands on the mattress and back slightly arched. He's moving you around like a doll, positioning you to his liking. He lets out a small whistle when he's got you exactly how he wants you. "Ain't often I get a chance to do this type of thing... Almost feels like an early birthday gift." He chuckles while running one hand down your spine and moving to your hip, stroking himself with the other. He swipes two fingers over your entrance—earning himself a small moan—and uses it, mixed with some of his precum, to moisten his member up. "Now, might hurt a bit, ain't gonna lie to 'ya." You knew that much, mostly why you were adamant to the idea of sex for a while, but it can't be that bad, can it? "But we'll try to keep calm, eh girl?" He punctuates his last sentence with a squeeze to your hip before his tip slides between your warm folds, slickening himself up some more while he rubs his cock just shy of your entrance—unable to help himself from teasing you some. You let out a plethora of meek moans and huffs, your cunt itching for him to just ease it in. After a moment, he stops his tip at your entrance, ready to slide in. "I'mma go slow, try to make it.. durable for 'ya."
There's definitely a small stretch mixed into the overwhelming feeling of your walls being filled by Micah's thick shaft, clenching around him as you sigh and gasp to every inch filling you. "Shh, you're alright.. look," He reaches one hand over around you, two fingers pressing to your clit and making slow circles on it. Your sighs turn into small moans again. "Yeah.. good, focus on ma' hand, baby." He hums, slowly starting to bottom out into your pussy. His hips meet your rear as he continued to rub over your nub, giving you a brief moment to adjust before he pulls out to the tip—then slides right back in. The pain isn't as bad as people made it out to be, but some have a higher pain tolerance either way. You do your best to focus on the sensation Micah's rough fingers are playing on your clit, more than the way his cock slams into you and creates an almost echo-ey sound of skin-on-skin slapping, filling the tent with the suggestive melody.
The repetitive motion of his dick brushing your gummy walls has you on cloud-nine; you're gasping and moaning, letting his name slip past your lips in a pitched tone, grasping fistfuls of the sheets underneath you as his pace slowly gets faster per thrust. "Don't think it's smart I cum inside," He chuckles, punctuating himself with another slam of his hips into your ass, followed by your sweet little whine, almost like a protest. "you want me to?" He asks curiously due to your whine, and his grin gets so much wider when you nod your head, and his pace turns relentless. He starts fucking into you how he likes, trying to get himself to cum while rubbing you faster to get you there with him. "Can't wait to feel you clench this pretty cunt around me," He purrs with a small kiss to the nape of your neck before his focus is back on fucking his throbbing cock into you, getting himself closer by the moment.
You feel your own orgasm start to approach, your legs slightly jittery from the upcoming feeling. Micah takes quick note of this change and rubs your clit faster, drawing more whiny moans out of you that get muffled by the action of burying your head into the mattress; last thing you need is someone hearing you moaning Micah's name. Your whines are breathless and abrupt, getting cut off by each of Micah's quick thrusts into your cunt, all until you finally feel yourself tip over the edge and you cum, the clench of your pussy around Micah enough to get him there just a moment after you. He buries his cock deep into you, holding you up from collapsing into the bed by the hips as his chest makes contact with your back, the side of his head on the very top of your torso as he gasps breathlessly. "Ah.. there we go.." You can feel him empty himself inside you, your shaky legs barely supporting you with Micah doing most of the work.
He gives himself a moment before pulling out and placing you down to lay on the cot. "Let me tell you somethin', darlin';" He gets his underwear and jeans off the floor, slipping into both before leaning over you to whisper into your ear. "This definitely ain't 'gon be a one-time thing—not with how addicting that cunt is, or with how 'ya love to scream my name." He purrs lowly while clasping his gun belt back up, running a hand down your spine and stopping at your ass with a firm squeeze before moving you to lay more comfortably on his bed. "Well, get comfortable, think I'm up for a smoke.." He lazily tosses a random blanket in his tent over you—it's the thought that counts, apparently—before leaving you in his tent to rest up.
And you agree; he's addicting, and you will be fucking again.
Kudos on AO3 very appreciated!! we love the micah smut where hes still an ass to us <3
#rdr2#micah bell#red dead redemption 2#red dead 2#rdr2 micah#red dead redemption two#rdr#rdr1#red dead#rdr2 community#micah bell iii#micah bell rdr2#rdr micah#micah bell x reader#micah rdr#micah#micah rdr2#red dead redemption micah#micah bell propaganda#rdr2 fanfiction#rdr2 fanfic#rdr fanfiction#fanfic#rdr fanfic#x reader#rdr2 x reader#asks#anon ask#answered asks#08melancholie
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Re-watch of The Spirealm. Episode 33
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Someone else mentioned it, but despite being in a trance, Nanzhu doesn't look away from Qiushi until Qiushi looks away first. Which is like... wow.
When your love is so strong it can resist magic
Never has a possession suited someone so well
Ugh so good
Not for them tho
But still so good. I watched this scene like 100 times
Thank gods for your resourcefulness and quick thinking skills
Oh, but we're not done yet!
👁__👁
Yeah, me too 😨
That was some extremely effective visual...
"You were almost dead! Fortunately, Lingling had a prop. He stepped ahead of you and killed the Box Demon. Seeing you still were under the influence, he opened the box."
You risked your own life? For me? How dare you
oopsie
The whole scene - delicious
And then the confession
"If I were in the same situation, would you open the box instead of me?"
"..."
"You see? Silence is an admission. So don't say much. We both know what we will do for each other."
"I just wanted you to survive. At least don't die for my sake."
"When facing the same situation again, we would both make the same choice. You can't protect others forever. I remember you told me something in the Snow Village: you have to get used to others being kind to you."
Nanzhu and the terrifying ordeal of loving and being loved just as fiercely in return
🔥🔥🔥🔥
It kinda looks like that hotel from Shining. I haven't watched it actually, so I can't be sure, but it has the ✨vibe✨
✂️✂️✂️✂️
Uh oh, the scheme is busted
"I wanted to give you one half last night, and leave the rest for you tonight. I didn't expect for you to open the box."
"But I already ate today. You don't eat even though you're starving."
"But what if you can't get food the next time? I'll leave it to you."
"Thank you."
"I said that I'll protect you forever, whether it's your forever or my forever."
"Forever is too long. I hope you can eat it now."
my heart 🥺💔
Nanzhu getting his drama fix
He's such a delight
I... actually kinda like her. She's a lone player, yet she still somehow managed to survive and get to the 10th Door. She's intriguing and I want to know more
🧍🧍🧍🧍
#spiraling into the Spirealm (again)#the spirealm#kaleidoscope of death#cdrama#the spirealm spoilers#ghost.fm
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good morning!! <3
#woo now i get to work on the hsr events#and if i wanna i can finish up exploration now that the quest's over#the quest roped so many areas off which was silly - i just wanted the chests in the various dead ends lol#but anyways#that's my main like 'plan' for today#other than that i'll probably like try to write a little or smth#still trying to come up with a tag for raf - maybe i need to read his anecdotes again for ideas#i'm very picky when it comes to the tags i give f/os so this is just usual for me lol#anyways#i hope today/tonight is kind to you <33#morning rambles
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🍈 - breaking down midhug with luke pls thank youuu
🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!
author's note: i came closer to blurb-length, and then i was completely off again lol! hope u enjoy this tho!! <33
3k celly !!
for some reason, despite the fact that he just knocked on your front door, luke is surprised when you open it just seconds later. what he was expecting, he doesn't know, but something makes his eyebrows rise at the sight.
that initial surprise is soon replaced with concern, though, when he takes in the sight of you. the bloodshot eyes, the deep bags under them, and the way the corners of your mouth hang down in an unusual way. and especially, the way your face doesn't light up like it most often does when you see him.
he reaches out to place a hand on your upper arm just as you speak up. "what's going on?" you ask, as if it's the most unnatural thing in the world to see your boyfriend outside your door. maybe if you'd checked your phone anytime today, you'd seen any of his ten texts of him wondering if he could come over tonight.
luke frowns at this. "i should be asking you the same thing," he counters, hand moving up to caress your cheek instead. "you haven't returned any of my texts or calls all weekend. did something happen?"
you put on a lighthearted smile, brushing away a few strands of hair that have fallen out of your messy bun and into your face. "i've just been studying. forgot to check my phone." luke, however, notices how the smile doesn't really meet your eyes, and when your gaze falls to the side, something in his chest tightens. you both remain still for a few moments before he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
"are you going to invite me in, or..."
the question has you flinching slightly before you nod, holding your door open for him as he steps into your dorm room.
luke knows you aren't the most neat person in the world, but what he's met by when he enters your room is on a new level. books on all open spaces, note-filled papers spilling down from the tables and onto the floor, with cap-less highlighters scattered atop it all. "love," he starts, picking up a few stray snack papers from the floor. "when was the last time you took a break? or had a real meal?"
you cross your arms over your chest, slight embarrassment spreading across your face as you watch the brit try to clean up at least some of your mess. "three years ago," you say with a weak chuckle, one that isn't good enough for you to even believe in it yourself, and lean back against the counter of your tiny kitchen.
luke just nods, organizing some abandoned papers in piles based on what subject they seem to be in. "good thing i ordered food here, then."
"you did?" you gasp. "really?"
"chinese. is that alright?" he sets the papers down on a table, turning his head to catch you nodding to him. "it should be here in... ten or fifteen minutes."
"thank you," you say, pushing yourself off the counter to strut over to him. "you're the best, actually."
you slip into his embrace so easily, the feeling of his arms around your shoulders easing the tension in them instantly. "hey..." luke starts, a soft sigh following his words. "i know you like to think that you need to study every second you're awake, and... i know there's some little voice inside your mind telling you that all kinds of things will happen if you don't ace these exams. but..."
his words already leave you feeling like your knees will give out any second. he's always been able to see right through you, read you like an open book, and known exactly what to say. and today is no exception.
"i want you to remember that you need to take some breaks, too. you won't learn anything if you just go non-stop all the time." he pauses for a moment to squeeze you a little tighter in his hold. "plus, you deserve to take breaks. you deserve to go easier on yourself."
something snaps inside you at his last few words.
it's not often you cry in front of luke, but you can't hold the tears back right now. it's like everything is pouring out of you; the stress of your exams, the pain of not seeing luke in several days, and the fear of not being good enough. it's all such a heavy burden to carry on your shoulders – and knowing that you have your boyfriend here to take care of you makes you so thankful and so overwhelmed, all at the same time.
luke hears your little sniffles and feels the warm tears on his skin when you hide your face in his neck, and he answers them by brushing a soothing hand up and down your side. "let's have some proper food and relax a little, hm?" he reaches down to press a kiss to your temple. "does that sound good?"
"perfect."
#jack's 3k celly!#3k celly - 🍈!#f1#f3#luke browning#formula three#formula 3#hitech gp#luke browning x reader#luke browning x you#luke browning x yn#luke browning x y/n#luke browning fluff#luke browning blurb#f3 x reader#f3 x you#f3 x yn#f3 x y/n#f3 fluff#f3 blurb
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Hi, I have a request, maybe you'd have some idea or want to use it 😎 Yunho from Ateez x burntout from work gf, basically she's slowly loosing it (and herself)
KISS IT BETTER
in which you need to decompress after work
idol : jeong yunho
group : ateez
song : kiss it better , rihanna
date : 22nd june 2023
note : thank you so so much for requesting !! i appreciate it so so much <33
with a huff, you closed the front door behind you, pressing your back against it to allow yourself a moment of silence. your eyes screwed shut, and you laid your head against the surface.
today at work your brain had been in overdrive, and by now you were utterly exhausted; rude customers, things going wrong here and there, demanding coworkers. you just couldn't seem to get a break.
"(y/n)? are you home?" yunho, your boyfriend, called from the kitchen. god, you'd even forgotten about him.
yunho had a day off from work — lucky him — and you'd promised to do something special with him to ensure it hadn't been in vain.
that morning, he'd made french toast for the two of you to share, and you had said you'd make it up to him when you came home, and either take him out to dinner or do the cooking instead. but, now that you were home, you couldn't bear the thought to do either.
his footsteps moved throughout the flat from the kitchen, approaching you. "(y/n)?" he mumbled, this time with a concerned lilt to his voice.
"what's up, are you okay?"
a great huff of air exhaled your lungs, and you slowly opened your eyes, setting your fatigued gaze on your boyfriend.
this was all yunho needed to know that you were in no state to go out again or do any cooking.
he stepped forward again, his arms engulfing you in a hug. "what happened?"
with another long sigh, your arms found yunho's frame, and you squeezed him back tightly. your throat felt dry and lethargic, not allowing you to speak.
his warmth felt comforting; felt like a home inside of your actual home. his embrace felt like heaven, his presence and being lifting you off your feet so you were flying; you'd been on your feet all day, and you just needed to lay down, sit down. how yunho could be on his feet every single day, you had no idea.
"just... just a really bad day," you sighed into his chest, burrowing your face further into him, hoping he could take your pains away forever.
"hey," yunho spoke softly, pulling your head out of his chest so his kind eyes could gaze into yours, and you already felt yourself rejuvenating. "i'll cook us dinner tonight, okay? we can go out another time."
although you wanted to say "yes, yes please," you shook your head, expression drooping slightly. "no, yunho, no. this is one of your only off-days. i promised."
yunho's large hands on your upper arms squeezed you softly, a small smile on his lips, though you could tell it was genuine.
"don't worry about that, my love. i'll have another day off soon," he stated with a nod, rubbing your arms softly. then he took a step back, bringing you with him. "now go sit on the couch and relax, i'll make your favourite dinner, okay?"
with this, your frame deflated, an action of relief. your cheeks warmed up as your lips pulled into a great smile. "i love you so much, yunho," you breathed; a sentence of pure genuineness, of pure love.
"but i'll make it up to you next time."
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#yunho#jeong yunho x reader#ateez yunho imagines#jeong yunho imagines
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Penrose Song of the Day, Day 33: Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier
The triumphant return! It's back, baybee!!! There might even be 2 (or 3?!?!?!) of them!
I get along without you very well some other nights.
I took a break from these, for a bit. I was going through it, but I'm a little further in now. Would you believe this song is one of the reasons why?
I'm not alone, this song is hardly a sleeper. Anything with half a billion streams has something going for it. And Hozier? On the Hozier loving website? Daring today, aren't we? A dabble of appealling to the masses perhaps.
Not really. Appealing to me, maybe.
This song makes me cry. I don't know if I can articulate why.
I think part of it is just the sheer fun Hozier is having with dropping a different jazz reference in every line of this song. The sheer number of songs he weaves into this is breathtaking. You have very straightforward name drops like Chet Baker, Duke Ellington. But almost every line is either lifted from a Jazz song, references a Jazz singer, or does both. Hozier is someone who has been very clear, vocal, and celebratory of his references, inspiriations, and musical predecessors. There's a respect for and reverence for the black artists, the giants he is standing on the shoulders on. His genuine joy, his love of this music and desire to give back to it, to recognize it and give it flowers. It's something that moves me, a little. I'm moved.
The lyrics are a whole nother animal for me.
I'm almost me again.
I think the joy of poetry is telling a story with efficiency. To cut right to the heart of a feeling. Not to ride Hemingway's dick, but he was kind of onto something with the paring down of a story, the minimalist approach. Single brushstrokes defining mountains. Time and again we see brevity, paucity, terseness as something to be celebrated- when done successfully.
The way that a sentence sings when you know that's all you needed to write. Where adding another word, another pause, a fucking comma would ruin it. There's something there, in the same way that bombast and maximalism and the sheer overstuffed lived-in rococo over the topness can take some artworks to new unexplored heights. Just as with maximal works, where there's too much, and it bursts through with the joy of being, something simple can speak volumes to the lonely, stark truth.
I'm almost me again, she's almost you.
I love this song because this song is about recovery. This song is about getting better. This song is about hope, after darkness. It's about love, sure, and it's about the joy of music. But this song, at its core, is about a man learning, shakingly, how to be after something calamitous.
I've got some color back- she thinks so too. I laugh like me again.
He'll get there. He's going to get there. He can see it, hear it. There's sweet music playing in the dark.
The line that makes me cry every time though is "I get along without you very well some other nights". Because some nights I do get along without you! But not tonight. Not now. I don't know where to start. I'm lost in the dark, and I can hear that sweet music. But I'm only ALMOST me again. I'm not fully there yet.
The song is so bright, colorful (yet somehow sepia steeped, in my head. Hozier conjures a lot of warm, comforting, almost ruddy brown colors in my mind. Truly a sun dappled bonfire of a man, tbh). It's sad, but it's joyful. I think I hear it differently every time I hear it.
And honestly there is something so fulfilling to me when a song like THIS is popular. I love music for all tastes and all genres. A song can be a simple beat to dance to, a treatise on power, you can use it to wash a man out of your hair, to boogie all night long. To cry, to release to finally be clean. You can make music that challenges what a song or music even is, you can make music that is callibrated to the masses to appeal. You can do whatever you want with song.
But I think a song like this, doing well commercially, is my favorite thing. This song is personal. This song is referential, it's deferential. It's in dialogue with its influences and aware of where it came from. It's tongue in cheek and playful and smart and accessible. It's well constructed. It is, as close as one can get, at least for me, a perfect song.
And it sounds damn sweet too, not to mention.
I've hardly talked about the actual MUSIC of it and well, Hozier does not disappoint. It's snappy, it's percussive. There's a gospel feel to it with the backing vocals creating this aural wall behind the simple instrumentation. This song is just SO good, I don't know how to describe it. The guitar lead-in is intriguing and quirked up. The build is simple, clean, elegant. A lot of hand percussion, a simple kick drum. Some piano parts, as a little garnish. The song feels like something I could play with a couple friends. We have hands for clapping. We can stomp for the kick drum. I have a guitar, only one of us has to play! and singing this with other people would heal something inside me, I think. Democratized in a way that only something soulful can be- this song WANTS people to play it, for lack of a better explanation.
I can't say enough good things about this song. I know that everyone else in the world knows it is a good song. I know. But I love it. And listen. You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love.
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photographer!reader x matty ig blurb 3
part 1 / part 2
~~~~~
yninstagram mommy’s home, Big Man (at least for a little)
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1975adam oh the struggles of being a parent on the road
yninstagram see you get it
1975fan1 iconic duo
ynfan1 so pretty!!!
yninstagram THE 1975 // AT THEIR VERY BEST // THE O2 // 13.01.23
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1975fan1 SO MAD THAT HARRY WASN’T THERE
1975fan2 yn on stage during about you when???
carlyholt xxx
1975updates yn met some fans who were in line at Motorpoint Arena in Cardiff today
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1975fan1 yn is seriously the best!!
1975fan2 the ultimate rockstar girlfriend
1975fan3 i was there!! She was so nice and she recognised someone else in line who was at the o2 shows as well!!
yninstagram THE 1975 // AT THEIR VERY BEST // CARDIFF // 16.01.23
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1975fan1 yn feeding us once again !!!!
1975fan2 how does it feel to live with MY DREAMMM
1975fan1 i met yn after the show in cardiff omgggg
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1975fan2 so jealous!!
1975fan3 what was she like??!
>1975fan1 she was so nice!! We had a drink together and we chatted for a little while!
yninstagram THE 1975 // AT THEIR VERY BEST // MANCHESTER // 20.01.23
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charli_xcx love you babyyyy
1975fan1 will never get over charli performing vroom vroom
1975fan2 i LOVE that all the 1975 wags get involved in the band its so cute
trumanblack xx
>yninstagram <3
1975updates Matty tonight in Nottingham: “Sorry, I’m a bit sick [this] is Lemsip. Too many thumbs, too many kisses… I can’t even kiss my girlfriend (unintelligible) don’t want to get [YN] sick”
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1975fan1 matty and yn are just the cutest!!
1975fan2 does anyone else think it’s weird that matty keeps kissing all these fans when his girlfriend is there???
>1975fan3 ig they have some kind of understanding?
1975fan4 poor bb hope he feels ok 🙁
trumanblack Newcastle you were beautiful. And so is Yn.
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yninstagram aw you! Xx
>trumanblack only for you
1975fan1 i can’t with these two….
1975fan2 my show!!
yninstagram i just want to take a moment and thank all of you who have supported me. Whether you’ve known me from my tumblr days or when I was in college or more recently, I just want to say thank you for all you guys have done for me. I get to live my dream with the people I love because of you <;33
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rass1975 no photo cred?
>yninstagram no buffoon x
ynfan1 been here since when you were on tumblr!! So proud of you!!!
1975fan1 yn is so cute i love her sm
-----
yninstagram via stories:
Caption: hellooooo Dublin!!
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yninstagram Belfast. Thank You. xx
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1975fan1 that was a hard show…
1975fan2 please tell Matty that we love him!!
1975fan3 i was there and i cried so hard
yninstagram GORILLA // MANCHESTER
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1975bertie the best!!
1975fan2 crying that i couldn’t get a ticket
1975fan3 can’t believe i got to be there!
trumanblack i would post something about our show last night but i’d much rather show yn
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yninstagram love you
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Pictures | Yoshida Hirofumi
Yoshida Hirofumi x fem!reader
content: slight fluff, fantasies, and caressing hands.
wc: 979
a/n: trying to be active, but I still looove Yoshida. so take this <33 I try to be gentle and slow with this 😭😭
inspo: pictures by ECÂF
You walk up to your apartment, as you recall the moments you had with Yoshida today, in the library.
His hands caressing your cheeks, running them through your hair as he detangles the knots. And you can't wait for more intimate, yet soft moments with him. You want him to know that you're not going anywhere, not yet, not now… Not ever.
He has you painting pictures in your head whenever you think about his fingertips running along the jawline of yours, tickling it was he smothered you with his soft, wet kisses on your lips.
You unlocked your apartment as you walked in, taking off your coat and placing it on the hook. Your stomach growls letting you know it's time to cook dinner for yourself. Just you and no one else.
You began to walk into the kitchen, washing your hands with soap as you dry them off.
Your mind wanders off to Yoshida's smile. It was genuinely interesting to see his plumped lips turn upward whenever he saw you smile back at him.
And honestly? You hoped to see his smile more often when you're with him. You remembered one night at Denji's, that you shared a unforgettable moment with Yoshida.
His hands sending electrifying feelings throughout your body, making you all blushly under the covers with him. Your body remembers the exact movements he did against your skin.
His finger lingering underneath your shirt, rubbing your soft s/c skin, caressing it softly as he listens to your heaved breathing.
The moment he shared his first ever kiss with you… Left you with nothing but longings. You longed for his lips again, again and again… Over again, whenever you got the chance to relax on his chest.
But he never placed his soft lips on yours… Since then.
You began to ponder if he ever liked you like that? In a way a boyfriend would with his girlfriend? Maybe not.
You turned on the stove as you began to dump the vegetables you cut before you left for university. You only cut them because you didn't want to do it when you got home.
It just shows how lazy you are, honestly.
You decided to just have a healthy dinner tonight, since Yoshida always suggest his favorite dishes.
Pork chops with rice and veggies, is what he always suggested. Yoshida told you it was easy to cook, and it was never hard.
Suddenly, another scenario appears into your mind, once again.
Yoshida is behind you, hugging you as he helps you cook the dish. And you're smiling, shying away with your head turned aside.
You're sure this image is you and Yoshida, cooking dinner together for the first time in your imaginary world.
You just hoped that sooner or later, you and Yoshida do go into that… Kind of relationship.
That couple relationship.
Doesn't matter if there are arguments, tears or regrets. Because you know that all relationships aren't made picture perfect, but you just hoped you and Yoshida go into that kind of relationship.
It was no pressure on your end, but maybe it could be with Yoshida? Maybe.
You watch as the vegetables boil in the pot, floating around the bubbly water.
When you are too preoccupied with your cooking… A soft knock is at your door. You decide to think it was just the kids next door playing Ding-Dong Ditch or something.
But the knock happens again, just a little louder this time.
"Coming," you sigh in disappointment.
You were just fantasing about Yoshida, and this happens?
You pull your hair into a bun as you walk towards your front door, kicking your boots aside and unlocking the doorknob.
You opened up the door, and you're met with the least expected. Yoshida.
Your voice doesn't come out when he talks, and you never made out what he said since it wasn't audible.
And you let out a 'huh?'
"We need to talk… Seriously."
Your eyes widened for a nanosecond, before nodding. You let him into your apartment, as you fixed your shoe rack and picking up the clothes from your living room.
You were just fantasing about him… So, why now? Of all other places and timings?
"What did you want to talk about?" You asked, as you shoved your clothes into your laundry basket.
Yoshida walks into your apartment, placing himself onto your couch as he grabbed your photo album.
But he stops, and he's staring at your journal.
The words printed on your journal is the initials of 'Y' and 'H', but he doesn't think much of it.
Although, he picks it up anyways.
Your eyes widened and you wasted no time in speed walking towards him, snatching the journal from him.
"What's wrong?" Yoshida asked.
What's wrong? You were just about to invade my privacy.
"This is my personal journal–"
"-With my initials?" He raised a brow.
"I'm cooking."
You hurried towards your kitchen and checking the vegetables, and they were cooked done. So, you drained them and placed them into a plate. Yoshida watches you from the couch, carefully analyzing you and your movements in the kitchen.
When you're too preoccupied with the pork chops… You feel a pair of hands, as they instructed you with the cutting process.
"Like this," Yoshida's hands are on top of yours, helping you cut and skin the pork.
Your breathing is slightly getting heavier with him this close to you. Hos breathing is fanning over your shoulder, as he leaned his chin in the crook of your neck.
"Are you making that dish I told you about?" He asked.
"Yeah… Yeah, I am."
He only hums back in response. But you're quick to ask him question you've been wanting to know for a long time.
"Yoshida?" You turned to him, taking his hands in yours.
"Hm?"
"Do you… Like… Me?"
#yoshida x reader#csm yoshida#hirofumi yoshida x reader#yoshida chainsaw man#yoshida hirofumi#csm x reader#yoshida x you#yoshidaisbabe#Spotify
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Mega Question…? Analysis:
« I remember » - OOTW reference
« Good girl, sad boy/Big city, wrong choices » - « white t shirt, good girl faith, James Dean look » (Style reference)
« We had one thing going on/I swear that it was something » - « we were something don’t you think so » (the 1 reference)
« ‘Cause I don’t remember who I was before you/Painted all my nights/A color I’ve searched for since » - « we were in screaming color//you showed me colors I can’t see with anyone else » (ootw + illicit affair reference)
« But one thing after another/Lost in situations, circumstances/Miscommunications » - « and I, lost you » (maroon reference)
<< this is her giving the thoughts on their past relationship>>
« Have to say/By the way/I just may like some explanations » - this is her now in the present asking for context
« Can I ask you a question?/Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room/And every single one of your friends was/Making fun of you/But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?/Then what did you do? » - « if one thing had been different, would everything be different today/rosé flowing with you chosen family/throwing pennies in the pool » (the 1 reference that signifies her trifes with the relationship that get referenced by specific occasions with others in presence »
« Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?/Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight/When she said it was too much? » - « you pick me up no headlight » (style reference) « it’s 2 am in your car/ headlights pass the window » (iwyw reference) + a metaphoric reference to if he showed up at her door like in betty
« Do you wish you could still touch ...her?/It's just a question » - this is her being snarky and asking if he still yearns for her after (probably) listening to keep driving and little freak and all of harry’s house
« Half-moon eyes, bad surprise/Did you realize, out of time/She was on your mind/With some meathead guy/That you saw that night/But you were on something/It was one drink after another » - reference to the BBMAs night in 2015 a la woman + exile
« Caught in politics and gender-roles/And you're not sure and I don't know/Got swept away in the gray » - this means how both of them got silent with each other because of things like 2016 elections, expectations from society, new relationships blah blah
« I just may like to have a conversation/Can I ask you a question? » - once again a tie in to her present state
“Include repeat of chorus”
« Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that/Meteor strike?/And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her/That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable/And right/But tonight… » - this is in reference to knowing he’s with Olivia and seeing them be together for longer than haylor (at least publically) makes her insecure in a sense that she thought she’d be his only ONE; « I hope she makes a beautiful fool, who takes my spot next to you » (happiness reference); « I’m sure that you got a wife out there » (rwylm reference)
“Another repeat of chorus”
Interestingly, the song is 3:30 long, which could be a reference to her being close to 33 when she released it….
Also, she sang it on May 20, the anniversary of Harry’s House, and dubbed it as being during a happy moment.
Anon - I have been sitting on this for ages, waiting until we got closer to the song’s anniversary to post. Thank you for your patience AND this analysis!
I have a couple things to add and a view or two that diverges but otherwise: spot on!
I think “sad boy” because he was wildly misunderstood. He had this image as a charming, British lothario and it was untrue and stifling. As we have seen over time, he is a kind, generous, loyal person who feels things deeply and is happiest even with/part of a family.
That “friends making fun of you/15 seconds later they were clapping too” line? Made me call into question Champagne Problems with the “no crowd of friends applauded” line. Ooof.
The politics and gender roles arguments? I think some had to do with her being called a sl*t and the “Madonna/whore” way she was being presented in the media (the dating too much and break up song narrative) , while he was lauded for being linked to a bunch of different women. Which—I don’t think he wanted to do, if I’m honest. He’d rather have been with her. But yeah - I don’t think 18-20 year old H fully understood the misogyny she was facing.
That bridge. Ooooof. The whole song is ambiguous enough that she could say “I wrote it about the past” but also make people wonder if it’s that’s true. She built in plausible deniability, but it’s flimsy. And she made sure we could tell its subject. I am going to go into this in another post…
But this is amazing. TYSM
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