#leave a tender moment alone

[travelbasscase]

Song link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kt_XIUAepT4

[marauderingpaige]

Leave a Tender Moment Alone

I actually think it is brilliant that the song that was the catalyst to House and Wilson meeting and becoming boy best friends is Leave a Tender Moment Alone by Billy Joel, because if you really pay attention to the lyrics (and like change the she's and girl's to he's and boy's/man's) then it really is a song that perfectly sums up their relationship and their love for each other. And like, I get why it made Wilson angry enough to lash out after receiving divorce papers, but like it is still Hilson's song. And it always will be. Always.

Even though I'm in love Sometimes I get so afraid I'll say something so wrong Just to have something to say

I know the moment isn't right To tell the boy a comical line To keep the conversation light I guess I'm just frightened out of my mind (like if these two don't describe House to a T then I don't know what does)

But if that's how I feel Then it's the best feeling I've even known It's undeniably real Leave a tender moment alone

Yes I know I'm in love But just when I ought to relax I put my foot in my mouth 'Cause I'm just avoiding the facts

If the boy gets too close If I need some room to escape When the moment arose I'd tell him it's all a mistake

But that's not how I feel No that's not the man I've known He's undeniably real So leave a tender moment alone (then these three screams to me Wilson after Amber dies)

But it's not only me Breaking down when the tension gets high Just when I'm in a serious mood He is suddenly quiet and shy (and like honestly both of them)

Leave a tender moment Leave it alone

I know the moment isn't right To hold my emotions inside To change the attitude tonight I've run out of places to hide

And if that's how I feel Then it's the best feeling I've even known It's undeniably real Leave a tender moment alone

You got to leave a tender moment alone Leave a tender moment Leave it alone You've got to leave a tender moment Leave a tender moment alone.

Anyways, I love this song so much, and I hope you are all having a wonderful day! xx

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

"Hang the blessed DJ // because the music they constantly play // it says nothing to me about my life "

: Panic - The Smiths

This is Wilson when he had that crisis with Leave a Tender Moment Alone - Billy Joel.

[karleenscreativeworld]

Hi, hello, it’s me again. Here to inform you that this is the perfect album for Valentine’s Day. Like how can I be sad I’m single listening to these songs specifically.

[ao3screenshotss]

[mybrainproblems]

I think one of my favorite parts of 5x04 birthmarks is how when Wilson and House are taken into custody and tell the police officer how they met they all end up having a conversation about the relative merits of leave a tender moment alone vs other Billy Joel songs like scenes from an Italian restaurant

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

The way that I already saw some people sexualizing the baby girl line…Jail, immediately.

[dykemd]

[catboyrightsdefender]

mitski really was doing something evil when she was opening her 2022 tour concerts with love me more

[ozymandiasdirge]

reading through tags just made me think about this but we really don’t talk enough about how a literal love song was playing when house and wilson met for the first time

[peaceloveandstarrs]

hear me out

George is at his hottest as a Beatle during the MMT/Yellow Submarine era.

He looks amazing. Coming into his masculinity, losing that boyish adorableness of his early to mid 20s.

But on top of that, he's finding himself. He's more confident in himself. He's becoming more passionate. And that, my friends, is insanely sexy.

[nyaruhodou]

did not expect to hear billy joel in japan

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Red. That was all Simon could see as he barreled through the barracks, ignoring the concerned onlookers as he slammed open door after door.

He was just washing up for the day, ready to head to his quarters when he’d heard whispers of you being admitted to medical. The words “banged up pretty good” were all he needed to hear before setting off in a panic to find you.

You were everything to him. Simon Riley was a man who swore he’d die alone and be happy doing so, until you came along. You, with your terrible jokes, your witty personality, your loyalty and determination and gods damn your fucking smile. He’d do anything to see you smile.

Love wasn’t something that came easy to Simon, but with you it did. Loving you was as easy as breathing, it was natural. He loved you from the moment he saw you, and would love you until the day he died.

The door to the infirmary flung open, and Simon strode in with purpose, his eyes scanning the entire room. When they landed on you, Simon felt his heart drop, his blood running cold.

“Who did this?” Was all he said, his cold gaze softening ever so slightly as he took in every cut and bruise that littered your beautiful skin. It took everything in him not to yell, to scream.

Your eyes dropped from his, your lips forming a thin line as the nurse beside you finished stitching the large cut that now adorned your shoulder.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, causing you and the nurse to jump slightly.

With a small smile aimed at you, the nurse gave a polite nod to Simon as she ran past, leaving the two of you alone in the now eerily silent room.

“Tell me.” Simon demanded, sinking to his knees in front of you. When you still refused to meet his gaze, he gently rested his index finger on your chin and tilted your head to look at him. His eyes were soft, gentle as he gazed into your own. “Tell me.”

The tenderness in which Simon looked at you had your lower lip wobbling, a soft sob slowly escaping your mouth as you replayed what had happened in your head. “Simon, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. You need to tell me what happened.” His finger gently began to graze your cheek, a tenderness that you’d grown used to over the years with him. A tenderness reserved only for you.

“The mission went south. There was a mole. We got ambushed.” Was all you said, as you struggled to regain your composure.

“Who.”

“Simon, please it’s really okay, I-.”

“Who.”

Your brows furrowed slightly as Simon ripped off his mask, his face now fully visible to you. Concern etched its way across his features as he held your gaze. You knew this was a battle you wouldn’t win.

“Coles. It was Coles.”

“He dead?” Simon asked, his face not showing any of his internal turmoil. If he wasn’t, Simon would make damn well sure he’d suffer for what had happened to you.

You shook your head as your bottom lip trembled once more. “No, but Simon-.”

Simon cut you off with a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as he murmured, “Sleep in my quarters tonight, yeah? I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for your reply, he strode out of the infirmary, the red in his vision intensifying as he set out to find the mole. Nobody, nobody would harm a hair on his lovers head and get away with it.

Simon would do anything for you, die for you, kill for you. He’d do anything to make sure that beautiful smile of yours was permanently etched onto your lips.

For you, Simon Riley would watch the world burn.

[dollfacefantasy]

can't get started ♡

older bf!logan howlett x fem!reader

logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, age gap (reader in 20s)

a/n: the part in dpw where he said he's got whiskey dick with the claws turned me on too much tbh

This had never happened to Logan before.

That wasn't a lie he was telling you to make himself look less pathetic. It wasn't an affirmation he repeated in his own head to feel like he was still hot shit. It was the truth. One he would swear to on anything.

He'd never had a problem getting it up before.

Not with you, not with anyone. He thought the healing factor made him immune to whiskey dick or any kind of down-there dysfunction. But apparently not. Because the two of you finally had some time alone after being amidst the chaos of the mansion all day and his body was stalling.

The second he had the bedroom door shut, you were dragging him over to the bed and climbing into his lap. You were doing everything like usual. Your lips pressed against his, and then moved to his jawline and down his neck. Your hands glided across the firm muscles of his chest. Your hips rolled down against his lap, beckoning the appendage between his legs to reciprocate your desire.

But it just wouldn't. He tried to make it because it wasn't a matter of not wanting you. He wanted you bad. 

He grabs your chin and brings your lips back up to his mouth so he can communicate his passion wordlessly. He digs his fingers into your hips, feeling the beginnings of where your flesh swells into your ass. He envisions how you'd been prancing around the whole day, cute tits pushing against the fabric of your t-shirt and calling out for him to grab.

You're so soft and warm. The little mewls that leave your lips sound like calls of angels up above. It doesn't matter though. His cock had clocked out for the night.

"God damnit," he grumbles before brushing you off his lap and bringing his fist down against the mattress. He sighs and his head hangs.

He can already sense the look on your face. Worry, hesitation, and affection swirling into one humiliating look. He feels your hand find his shoulder, the touch tender and accepting.

"It's ok, Logan. We don't have to," you say. Your tone is so soft and gentle, and it just drives him fucking nuts.

"But you want to," he says and looks over at you. The look in your eyes kills him. He knows you don't mean it, but it looks so patronizing. As if he's an old dog about to be taken out back and old yeller'd.

"Yeah but I don't want you to force yourself. We can just cuddle," you offer, sweet as can be.

"It's not forcing, I want to do this. I want you so bad," he says and cups your cheek. He pulls you back onto his lap and nuzzles your neck. "Been thinking about this all day."

You let out a little sigh as he lays some kisses on the column of your throat, and that gives him a spark of hope. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he doesn't have to be put out to pasture just yet. The two of you make out and grind and feel each other up some more. But eventually your tits are all but in his face and his dick still doesn't have a pulse.

He huffs and pulls back. 'Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says.

You watch him, the gleam in your eyes as adoring as ever. It was the same look you gave him when you'd have to explain a basic function of a cell phone to him.

"It's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed," you reassure and lean in to peck his cheek.

He groans and gently brushes you off. "Don't. I don't need you coddling me."

"I'm just saying. I understand," you say with conviction, hands splaying on your chest to physically convey your empathy, "It happens to lots of guys when they get older. You don't have to be ashamed of it with me."

And in that moment, he wishes he didn't have his mutation so he could just die on the spot from being utterly mortified. He'd actually have preferred if you laughed in his face and called him an old man. A sad, old, perverted fuck who decided to date some half his age even though he couldn't keep up with her appetite. If you'd told him you were gonna find someone who could satisfy you, it probably would've stung less than being talked to like a patient who doesn't know their cancer is terminal.

There was no chance in hell, you'd ever do any of that though. As much as he hated that fact right now, it was part of why he loved you.

All he does is mumble a thank you and kiss the corner of your mouth. He doesn't just cuddle you after though. He gets you off on his thigh. You were still going to cum even if he couldn't. When you're done, he holds you close and rubs your back till you're sleeping curled up to his side.

His night isn't very restful though. It's haunted with the prospect of future incidents like this, of your perception of him changing. The look in your eyes changing from admiration to pity.

He can't live with that. The next day for the two of you is super busy, but he makes sure there's a spot at the end of it for him to secure his redemption.

This time around it's him carting you away from the others once the sun is down, mouth on the curve of your neck before you even reach the bedroom. His hands grope your waist and paw at your tits. You stumble into the door, bumping it loud enough that you'd be worried about someone hearing you if they weren't all downstairs.

"Logan..." you giggle. You push your ass back against him and glance at him out of your peripheral.

"Not what you're gonna be calling me before the night is done, sweet thing," he grunts and boosts you up.

Your legs press into his sides to support yourself as he opens the door. He takes the two of you inside and kicks it shut behind him before heading to the bed and tossing you on the mattress.

You look up at him with a coy smile, arms propping you up and one of your legs extended to entice him.

"You know... you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" you say.

"Oh, I don't?" he asks and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips meet, "You're too easy to please, babydoll."

Another laugh bubbles through your lips. Your legs drop to lock around his waist. "I'm just saying. It's like totally normal, and I don't want you to get all grumpy about it."

"Oh, I get grumpy, do I?" he asks as he leans over you. His large body envelopes yours on the mattress. He ducks down further to swallow your words up with kisses.

You hum into the exchange but pull back a little to finish your thought.

"Mhm, you do. And I just don't want you to feel that way cause I knew when we got together what I was getting into," you say.

Your confidence is so cute. You talk with absolute certainty, like you understand all there is to be understood about him. Like you'd known him forever and he hadn't been doing things like this for decades longer than you walked this earth.

His mouth crashes against yours again, his body weighing down on you and crushing you into the mattress. 

"You did, hm? You knew what you were getting into? You got with me thinking I wouldn't be able to give it to you how you need all the time?" he mutters against your skin.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"Didn't mean it like that? How'd you mean it then, sweetheart?"

"I dunno..."

"Doesn't sound like you knew what you were getting into to me," he breathes.

That little sentence that you'd said in an attempt to comfort him unlocked something between the two of you. He felt his cock waking up and pressing against his zipper, eager to get out and slide home. It's hard to register your clothes being pulled off when he's got his tongue in your mouth and his fingers playing with your clit. In no time at all, he's got the both of you bare and his cock nestled between your thighs.

Like he already knew, the issue last night had never been about lack of desire. And he intended to prove that to you, fuck you so good it wiped your memory of any placating word that fell from your lips.

He ruts into you hard. The mattress rocks on the bed frame and threatens to slide off. His dick is big and even though it's not a new sensation for you, each time you take it is a stretch. It's even more so when he pushes you up by the back of your knees. You whine as you're folded in half. His thrusts hit your sweet spot every time at this angle.

"Thought you knew what you were getting into?" he teases as he pistons himself in and out.

You mewl and bob your head, though you aren't sure if you're shaking your head or nodding.

"Fuckkkk, Logan. 'm sorry," you pant. Your walls squeeze tight around his shaft as your eyes close up. He made every part of your body contract and feel like it was moments from exploding.

He simply laughs at your apology. "Don't gotta be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just showing you what happens when I get older."

His balls hang heavy and swing with each motion, clapping against your ass. The heat between your legs is enough to make you squirm. Constant whimpers pour from your lips as he fucks into you without mercy.

"I know," you moan, "You fuck me better than anyone else."

"That's right," he grunts, "Nobody else could fuck you like this. Just me."

"Mhm, just daddy," you slur and cling onto him tighter. Your arms hook around his neck and keep his sweaty skin flush against yours.

"Just daddy," he repeats, his tone smooth like silk despite his raspy voice, "You don't need anyone else. Not when I can take care of you like this."

His tip prods at your cervix, making you yelp and buck. He doesn't stop though, just keeps battering into you, hammering into your warm, wet hole.

"You don't need any little boys thinking they know how to handle you," he breathes and nuzzles your neck, "Your old man can handle you just fine, make you cum whenever you need."

A strangled cry leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his back so hard that it seems like you wanted to draw blood. His words just make you melt for him. Reduce you down to a compliant jumble of flesh for him to mold and play with how he wants.

"Needa cum right now, daddy," you whine.

"I know you do, spoiled girl. You act so understanding, but I know that little pussy is aching to cum around my cock. To get filled up with my cum," he murmurs.

You nod wildly.

He chuckles at your eagerness and snaps against you even harder.

"Hold on tight, baby," he whispers.

His hips ricochet off your ass, clapping against you with intensity that borders on violent. You squeal and hang on as directed. Your whole body rocks with his momentum. Your head bobbles around like it's empty, which it is. Empty of everything but him.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

"Let it out for me. Let me feel you burst, pretty girl," he grunts as he continues plowing into you.

Your body rolls. Your hips vibrate with the ecstasy release brings you. It crashes over you in one intense wave, like a gallon of liquid euphoria being poured over you. Your eyes flutter, and you bury your face in his neck like he has his in yours.

He fucks you through it. Coos in your ear too. "That's my baby. My sweet girl. Always sound so pretty when you're cumming."

One of your hands flies up to clutch at his thick, dark hair. Keeping him close keeps the words flowing.

"Getting so tight for me, fuck. No one can make me cum like you, honey. Drains me dry every fucking time."

Moments later he spurts into you, unloading thick ropes of his spend inside you. You let out another moan from that sensation alone. He growls and pants against your skin, his hands locking you in place as his hips pummel into your cunt and make sure every last drop has been released.

He lingers on you for a few moments before pulling out. His body feels loose in the afterglow. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at himself and then you. He knows he's gonna have to clean you up. Your inner thighs are shimmery with a mix of fluids, and the bush of dark hair at the base of his cock is in the same condition.

"Time to shower, baby?" he asks and pats your leg. You don't respond at first and he smirks. "Or did I tire you out too much?"

You whine something incoherent and shift to turn your face against the blankets. His smug look grows. He crawls over you again and nips at your jaw, rubbing his nose against your cheekbone.

"You know, it's ok, sweetheart. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's totally normal for pretty little things like you. I knew that going in."

His tone mimics your soft and understanding one from earlier. You make a little growl and swat at his bicep.

“Shut up, old man.”

[mulanism]

lovesick ryomen sukuna is literally infesting my mind and giving me brainworms and i don’t think anyone gets it. how absolutely smitten sukuna would become with you, the puny little human he had originally thought to be unworthy of his gaze, let alone his time and attention.

it's nothing but time, the healer and killer of all things, that makes this cursed man realize just how much his entire world revolves around you. how he'd end humanity itself before he'd allow things to be any other way between you two.

lovesick sukuna who loathes being in proximity to those he deems as insignificant and inferior. he gets awfully irritated breathing the same air as those lowly underlings, and he predictably doesn’t like the touch of anyone else.

but when it comes to you, he has this unbridled desire to always be skin-to-skin, to keep you flush against his massive body and never let go until he absolutely has to. it's troublesome, but the weight of you in his lap keeps him oddly pacified whether he wants to acknowledge his restrained and mellowed demeanor in your presence or not.

lovesick sukuna who doesn’t like when others try to touch him in any way, shape, or form. but he’d let you do anything. you could dig your nails into his skin, tear his heart out, and he’d do absolutely nothing to stop you.

he is completely yours, just as you are completely his.

suggesting that sukuna enjoys your touch earns you nothing but unwarranted ridicule and excessive condemnation from him if you ever mention it; his chest rumbles as he reprimands you for being so foolish—all while he makes no move to stop your hands from brushing those wisps of pink hair away from his line of sight. he doesn't even interfere when your tender lips carefully brush against the tattoo markings littered across his face.

lovesick sukuna who is fully aware of how much he likes to return your touch, too. there was a time when he told himself he was far too busy to wallow in trivial matters of the flesh; but now it has gotten to a point where he can't stop himself from indulging in yours.

you feel so soft, so supple, and warm beneath his calloused fingers. sukuna's hands are big—large enough that a single hand of his almost completely covers the expanse of your tummy. the size difference between you two both humors and fascinates him, so much that he can't stop himself from kneading the plush of your stomach or the soft flesh of your thighs. it was sukuna's nature to barbarously ruin and pulverize everything he got his hands on, but here you were being the only exception.

lovesick sukuna who is never one to hold back in anything he does, yet he finds himself handling you with a little bit of care that he wouldn't dare extend to another soul on this earth. truthfully, he wants to devour you completely, but he understands he could snap you in half if he doesn't remain mindful about the amount of force he's exerting when he's bending and twisting and handling you every which way.

he has his moments where his uninhibited carnality and lust speak for him; when he loses control of himself and lets out out those guttural sounds that he never lets slip through his lips unless he's with you. sounds that are never heard outside of your most intimate moments, like the ones where he can't stop marking you and leaving behind dark, purple love-bites that will last a little while longer than usual.

lovesick sukuna has moments where his senses are clouded with the smell and taste of you as you exhale softly through parted, kiss-swollen lips while you lay dazed beneath him. those moments where he's kissed you for far too long and taken nearly all of the oxygen out of your lungs. vermillion eyes watch as your chest heaves and you puff out those small little breaths, and sukuna thinks it's cute how he can render you that way with little else but a kiss.

lovesick sukuna who thinks you are ignorant. he believes you don't truly realize the power you hold over him. you don't truly comprehend how he would scorch and set ablaze the entire world on your command. all you had to do was say the word, and he'd do anything. it's a bit unsettling to think about how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it, but there's a part of sukuna that's in no rush to reveal such a vulnerability to you.

sukuna is not one for sweetly saccharine words and sentiments—but if there is one thing that rings true, it’s that his mind is constantly consumed by you—you, you, you.