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asiatic-apple · 11 days ago

Note

Hiiii & congrats on the followers! Can I please request from the fluff #15, Zayne x reader with no gender preference? Your awesome for doing this btw!

Thank you so much, anon ❤️ This is my first time writing for zayne, so I hope I did him justice

Requests are open for my follower celebration

Sweet jealousy

Zayne x gender neutral reader

Prompt: having pet names for each other that no one else is allowed to use

Content: fluff, use of “darling” as a pet name for you, use of “sweetie” as a pet name for zayne, jealous zayne

The quaint dessert shop tucked away in Linkon’s historic district smells like heaven and promises an impending sugar crash. This place is your guilty pleasure, and today you’re sharing your little hideaway with your favorite doctor.

The familiar pastel walls, the hum of soft jazz through tinny speakers, and extravagant display cases lined with glossy domes of mousse and tarts all come together to give the place a dreamy vibe.

Zayne doesn’t care much about aesthetics, though. All he cares about is being with you in this moment of sugary indulgence.

He follows your lead, one hand tucked casually into his coat pocket, the other brushing against yours as you step up to the counter to order for both of you.

After a short internal debate over chocolate lava cake or strawberry macarons—Zayne thinks you look most adorable when you’re indecisive about sweets—you settle on a box of macarons to share.

There’s not much that can distract Zayne from the promise of dessert. But his mood instantly sours when the cheerful waiter behind the counter smiles at you and says, “Good choice, darling. I’ll get that right out for you.”

Zayne doesn’t say anything. Not right away.

He’s quiet while you both grab a seat by the window. And his mouth presses into a thin line when your desserts arrive. He thanks every god above that there’s no more annoying pet names from the waiter this time—but that does little to improve his mood.

You’re used to comfortable silence, especially around Zayne. But this is anything but comfortable.

He picks at his macarons with all the enthusiasm of a man eating military rations. You barely have the heart to watch when he takes one bite and chews it with a look so emotionless it’s like he’s eating cardboard.

You let the silence stretch a little longer, enjoying the soft clink of spoons and the buzz of conversation around you. His blank stare at his plate turns into a glare so harsh, it’s like the macarons personally offended him.

It’s impossible not to stifle a laugh.

“Is it really that bad?” you ask with an amused grin. “You’re looking at it like it’s laced with carrots.”

Zayne doesn’t look up. “It’s alright.” His answer is noncommittal at best. At worst, it’s an insult to your taste in dessert shops.

You tilt your head at him, waiting for further explanation that doesn’t come. Perhaps he wants you to coax it out of him. That’s fine; you like playing games with him.

In your sweetest voice, you ask, “Should I guess what’s bothering you, Doctor Zayne?”

At least your playful tone makes his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “You can try.”

“Okay,” you reply, tapping your chin in contemplation. “You’re mad I didn’t pick the lava cake.”

He exhales, slow and measured. “No.”

“You wanted me to feed you.”

You lift one of the macarons on your plate and gently bring it to Zayne’s mouth. Even when he’s too busy pouting over something unknown, he can’t stay mad for too long when he’s in your presence.

He parts his lips in acquiescence and chews on the macaron, but it leaves a bad taste in his mouth when he glances back at the waiter busying himself around the store.

Zayne's deepening frown doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Just like you weren’t oblivious to the way he’d tensed by your side when the waiter called you that special name.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think some more, “are you upset he called me darling?”

His expression doesn’t change much, but his shoulders drop in that barely-there way that says bingo, you caught him.

You can’t stop yourself from chuckling this time. Jealousy suits Zayne well, even when he tries to be subtle about it. “I can’t believe it,” you tease him. “You’re mad over something so simple?”

“I’m not mad,” he says, finally meeting your eyes. “I’m…mildly perturbed.”

“Sweetie, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He probably calls all his customers cute pet names when he greets them.”

Zayne huffs. Like a child. You’d be surprised by the act if it weren’t for how comically serious he looks while doing it.

“You don’t remember, do you?” he asks softer now—almost a mumble for someone who’s usually so well-spoken and precise with his words.

When you look at him in confusion, he continues, “That elderly woman in the park two days ago. The flower seller we passed on the way to our date last weekend.”

You lean forward, elbow on the table, grinning. The memories are clear in your mind, but you’re not sure what the pattern is between them. “Go on,” you coo.

“They all called you darling,” he says simply. “I don’t care if it’s a daily occurrence for them. That name is already taken.”

You let out a soft laugh and reach across the table to intertwine your fingers with his. To anyone else, they’d think the famously stoic Doctor Zayne is being uncharacteristically petulant about this issue.

But you know better.

This is just the new side of him that brazenly wants you all to himself—openly and unapologetically. Greed, he once called it. Apparently, the good doctor is a glutton for more than just sugary treats.

The faint smirk tugging at his lips now confirms it. He just wanted some more of your attention after what the waiter said. And you’re happy to provide it to reassure him that you’re only his darling when it counts.

“You know,” you say with a gentle squeeze of his hand, “we could always slap a trademark symbol on it. Get the legal department involved.”

That seems to perk him up a little. His smirk grows into that full, charming grin you know and love. “I like that idea, Darling,” he replies. “We can sue for infringement. At minimum.”

“Well then,” you say, rising to your feet and offering him your hand, “maybe we should find somewhere else to enjoy dessert. If we’re filing a complaint, it’d be a conflict of interest to stay here.”

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silkysoftie · 17 days ago

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𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

hitoshi shinsou x female reader

summary: histoshi quickly puts you back in your place after pushing him too far… better keep quiet!

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, ua college au, hard dom hitoshi x brat reader, established relationship, pet names, titles, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, profanity, light exhibitionism (aged up characters)

a/n: this was originally written in third person so please excuse any grammar mistakes i might have missed! this is for everyone who enjoyed my last toshi fic… though this is a separate story, i hope this satisfies those who were asking for a part two! <3

“Shit!”

Hitoshi’s fist thumped down on the table above your head. Next to you, his slippered foot began bouncing with irritation.

‘He must have lost another round,’ you thought to yourself, a little smile pulling at your lips though your attention never strayed from the book in your lap.

As you both settled into the easy routine of a relationship, evenings in the dorms were often spent this way: Hitoshi, busy gaming on his PC with the other guys from Class 1A, and you, curled up under his desk with a good book, pressed comfortably up against his shins.

Even before your romantic connection had blossomed, you regularly found yourself in Hitoshi’s room, much preferring it to your own. Though you’d claim the AC in his room was better, everyone in class, especially your best friend, Kyoka, knew you was nursing a fat crush on the purple haired boy.

And so, as though you were tasked with carving out a neat, little spot for yourself in Hitoshi’s life, you began (what you thought was subtly) nesting. Among adding your favorite vinyls to his collection, erecting a small pile of books on his bedside table, and burning your favorite candles, you’d also built a little haven for yourself in the nook of his gaming desk. It quickly became your favorite place to hang out and you treasured it even more once you and Hitoshi began dating.

You loved everything about the little space, from the faint glow of the fairy lights you’d attached to the underside of the desk that gave just enough light to comfortably read or sketch, to the soft blankets and pillows you’d squished under your bottom for added comfort. You especially loved that, while the musky scent of your boyfriend permeated every inch of his room, it seemed to linger particularly strong in your hideaway. But the one thing you loved most of all, was Hitoshi’s warm legs pressed gently against your side, his warmth seeping through his soft, plaid pajama pants and into your very bones, a constant reminder of his sure presence.

Speaking of which, his fidgeting had not yet let up and was quickly drawing your focus away from the adventures in your book and back to reality. Just as you were getting to the good part too. You glared at his restless leg from the corner of your eye, annoyed by the distraction.

“Toshi,” you groaned, smacking his knee lightly to earn his attention and ask him to stop, but the boy above showed no signs of acknowledgment, his foot still drumming incessantly against the floor as he barked orders into his headset. A huff of impatience escaped you and you pawed at his knee again, a bit more roughly this time. Your boyfriend, once again, was unresponsive, clearly wrapped up in whatever game he and the boys were playing. He even shifted his foot away, attempting to evade your reach.

How dare he?!

Your eyebrows drew together, frustrated at being so blatantly ignored. But, as you eyed Hitoshi’s bouncing leg with growing displeasure, a wicked idea crept into your mind. As if possessed, you balled up your fist, and without a moment’s hesitation, sent it crashing into his shin. ‘That ought to get his attention,’ you thought hotly, feeling rather pleased with yourself when his knee jerked violently.

Just as a smug grin was creeping onto your face, a large, calloused hand slipped under the desk and tangled in your hair, yanking harshly.

“Enough.”

The sound of your boyfriend’s deep, commanding voice sent a lick of fire down your spine, his long fingers digging into your scalp as if to emphasize his authority. A small, repentant whimper floated up from under the desk, persuading Hitoshi to loosen his grip before slowly pulling his hand from between your soft locks. And with that, he was back to his game, his keyboard clacking loudly as he resumed his conversation with the guys on his team.

Pride a bit wounded, you rubbed at your head to ease the pain Hitoshi’s roughness had caused before slumping back against the pillows dejectedly. Your lips pursed together in a little pout as you grumbled to yourself. This wasn’t fair. How come you always got in trouble? It’s not like you’d hit him that hard! And you wouldn’t have needed to if he’d just paid attention to you the first time around!

You pondered over this, frown deepening with each passing thought. Hitoshi’s earlier warning rang loudly in your ears, as though he were personally challenging you. But how were you supposed to get his attention now? Your boyfriend was as stubborn as he was loving… he likely wouldn’t respond again purely out of spite.

Eyes darting between Hitoshi’s bobbing leg and his lap, you began devising a new plan, intent on getting your way. You’d just have to find a way back onto his good side.

As they say, “If you can’t beat them, join them.”

So, steeling your resolve, you set your book safely to the side before carefully sliding up onto your knees and slowly inching your way in between Hitoshi’s spread ones.

A sharp intake of breath hissed through Hitoshi’s teeth as he felt a small hand wandering delicately up his thigh.

“Babe…” his low voice rang out again, tone intentionally lazy and disinterested, but laced with an unspoken order.

You ignored this entirely, fingers finding their way to the waistband of his pajama pants. Hitoshi’s abs contracted under his thin t-shirt as another deep, shakey breath sounded from somewhere above you.

A devilish smile tugged at the corner of your lips, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you watched the muscles in his thighs twitch in response to your gentle touch. And then, before he even had time to get a scolding word out, you had yanked his pants as far down as his seated position would allow.

The quietest of groans escaped Hitoshi, his fingers momentarily going still on the keyboard as his half-hard cock was suddenly exposed to the cool evening air.

You couldn’t help but grin at the sight, tongue darting out to lick at your lips. Hitoshi was pretty, enticingly so.

Without a second thought, you snaked a hand around him, enjoying the weight and warmth in your palm. You watched in fascination as his cock quickly grew to size, pulsing slightly with each light brush of your fingers.

“You little brat,” Hitoshi breathed, voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

But you weren’t listening, far too caught up in the mouthwatering sight of him. It didn’t take long for the tip of his cock, flushed a lovely shade of pink, to begin steadily leaking precum. Your gaze followed the little beads as they dripped slowly down your fingers, mesmerized by the sight.

Unable to avoid temptation any longer, you leaned forward, kitten licking lightly at the weeping tip. Hitoshi’s thighs tensed once more as a shudder traveled down his spine, a quiet moan falling from his lips.

Reading his reaction as permission, you slowly began taking the length of him into your mouth, drool dribbling down your chin as you struggled to swallow him.

Above you, Hitoshi was white knuckling the edge of his desk, having paused his game and muted his headset long ago. His eyebrows furrowed together as he contemplated how long he’d allow his girlfriend to get away with such disobedience. Surely, you thought you was being sneaky and he would allow you to believe so for a little while longer.

Just as you were really beginning to achieve a rhythm, head quickly bobbing up and down, tongue curling around the tip with each pass, you felt a familiar hand sliding back into your hair.

Anticipating affection, you leaned further into your boyfriend’s touch, but Hitoshi’s grip suddenly tightened and he delivered another harsh tug, surprising you.

Yelping in pain, you jerked back, his cock sliding from your lips with a filthy, wet ‘pop.’ Hitoshi’s hold was unrelenting, fingers still twisted up in your tresses, forcing your head back roughly.

Hitoshi lazily rolled his chair back, allowing you your first view of him in quite some time. His tired eyes were narrowed as he glared down at you, the few strands of hair that had escaped his headset falling deliciously over his forehead.

You could do nothing but blink up at him owlishly, still trapped in his grasp.

“Toshi…” you whined after some time, scalp starting to sting. Said man merely raised a single eyebrow in response.

Oh, you’d really done it now.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you put on what you hoped was your most apologetic face. Maybe it was your sorry expression, your glistening doe eyes, or the way your pouting lips sparkled with spit, but whatever it was, it must have worked, because Hitoshi gradually released you from his iron hold, finally allowing you a breath of relief.

But, before you could rejoice at having won his sympathy, Hitoshi’s icy voice cut through the air, “Get up here. Now.”

Eager to avoid angering him further, you scrambled up onto his lap, unconcerned with grace and dignity. Once settled, his large palms came down to squeeze at your bare thighs. Meanwhile, you desperately tried to think of anything but the thin layer of panties separating you from his straining cock.

“You just can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, can you? So stubborn…” he muttered, but you stayed intentionally silent, not wanting to dig your grave any deeper.

Busying yourself with twiddling your fingers, you stared down at your lap, too embarrassed to even glance up at your boyfriend as his hands began wandering towards your waist, sliding underneath your (AKA his) hoodie.

“Hm? You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Well, now you’ve got it,” Hitoshi taunted you, his words laced with condescension.

When you didn’t react, sheepish now that you were face-to-face, he leaned down to nose at your temple, placing the tiniest of kisses there to reassure you.

“What’s this? Cat got your tongue? You were being so bold earlier…” the purple haired boy teased, his touch creeping further and further up your tummy only to stop short of your breasts, lingering on your rib cage.

“M’ sorry,” you mumbled in defeat, turning your face into the crook of his neck to hide your shame. Seeking his comfort, your hands came up, shyly clutching at his shoulders and earning a chuckle from the man under you as he pulled you in close.

“Mm…” he hummed to himself, lips pursing in thought, “What shall I have you do to make up for this naughty behavior?”

You gritted your teeth at that, nervous for whatever punishment was to come. Hitoshi’s heavily lidded eyes swept over his surroundings before settling on his PC, an exciting idea in mind. A mischievous grin crept onto his face, showing off his teeth as he thought up a plan.

Glancing down at the girl in his arms, his smile only widened, “How about we play a game?”

Pulling your face from its hiding place in his neck, you looked up at your boyfriend, confusion swimming in your eyes.

“Game?” you parroted back.

Hitoshi nodded, schooling his features into a carefully blank expression so as not to give anything away. Without explanation, he suddenly pulled his hands from under your hoodie and wedged them under your armpits.

“Wha-?”

But, before you even knew what was happening, you had been picked up, turned around, and bent over your boyfriend’s desk, his bulky, black headphones placed carefully over your ears and the mic angled towards your mouth, which was now gaping in surprise.

“Careful not to be too loud, kitten,” Hitoshi whispered next to your ear before rejoining the game he was playing earlier.

The sound of your classmates suddenly came through the headphones, easily overwhelming you. Bakugou’s voice was the first to invade your ears, profanities spilling from him at an obnoxiously loud volume. In the background you could hear Kirishima laughing his ass off, Sero commenting on the previous match, and Kaminari… crying?

As you were distracted by the cacophony of noise attacking your senses, Hitoshi busied himself with pulling down your underwear, biting his lip when they came away sticky with slick. Leaning back in his chair confidently, Hitoshi stared down his nose at his beautiful girlfriend, taking a moment to enjoy the view of your bare behind.

You gasped against the chilly air, but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering Hitoshi’s warning.

“Oh, Shin is back on!” Kirishima’s gruff voice rang in your ears, but you didn’t dare respond, uneasy beads of sweat forming along your forehead. If your were to get caught… in this position…

Meanwhile, Hitoshi, very much not ‘on,’ was occupied with sliding a single finger through your wet folds, drawing the tiniest of squeaks from you. A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he watched you squirm against his desk, dripping hole practically begging to be filled.

You kept your hand firmly pinned against your mouth as your boyfriend pressed one long digit into your sopping core, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious feeling. Hitoshi gazed down at you with unabashed desire, entranced by the sight of your pussy swallowing his finger so greedily. The view alone was enough to have his member twitching against his stomach. It was all you could do to keep quiet as he began pumping his finger in and out, setting a torturously slow pace that had your eyelashes fluttering and your mind fogging over.

But, much to your dismay, Hitoshi knew your body like the back of his hand and easily found that special spot deep inside of you, ripping startled moan from your throat, barely muffled against your hand.

Head snapping up, you glanced back over your shoulder at your boyfriend nervously. Hitoshi paused, his hand stilling as he watched your face for any change in expression that might indicate you’d been caught.

After what felt like an eternity, your eyebrows unfurrowed and you began wiggling your butt, inviting Hitoshi to continue his ministrations. It seemed no one had heard your little slip up.

A bit rattled by the close call, Hitoshi decided to switch tactics. It appeared his pretty girl couldn’t maintain control for as long as he anticipated, seeing as your focus was already starting to break. He’d have to make this fast.

A quiet, pathetic whine fell from your lips when you felt Hitoshi’s finger withdrawing, finding its way into his mouth, and pulling an appreciative groan from him in response. He’d always loved the taste of you and made a mental note to get back between your legs later.

But, your disappointment was short lived as the emptiness was soon replaced with his cock. Hard and heavy, he smacked it lightly against your sticky, exposed cunt. A blush crept up your neck and to the tips of your ears at the sound of wet impact.

“Gonna fill you so good,” your boyfriend murmured lowly, an enticing promise.

Grinning like a lovesick school boy, Hitoshi waisted no time in sliding home. Your back arched beautifully as you fought to remain quiet, free hand gripping the edge of the desk for dear life. Hitoshi reached forward to slide your hoodie up and grapsed your waist, his palms warm and strong, allowing him to pull you back onto his aching cock, ass smacking against his thighs.

Before long, you were a filthy mess, barely keeping quiet, whimpers and whines escaping with each thrust into your messy pussy.

“Fuckkkk,” Hitoshi groaned, his head falling back and his eyelids growing heavy. He loved having you this way, fucked out and fully at his mercy. Selfishly, he allowed one hand to come down harshly against your asscheek, leaving a violently red handprint in his wake. Admittedly, Hitoshi loved the look of the imprint, a shameful blush coloring the tops of his cheeks. You could only writhe under his touch, teeth digging into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.

But, when one of his hands crept around your waist to rub at your clit, you lost it. Your hand fell from your mouth as unashamed moans and sobs left you. Your head hung forward as your nails clawed desperately at the desk, “Fuck! Toshi!”

Said man growled in response, too lost in pleasure to be concerned with his friends, who could likely hear every bit of your lovemaking. If anything, it turned him on a little, pleased with the thought that everyone might know who you unequivocally belonged to.

The pace of his hips quickened, but his thumb was ever steady on your clit, eager to bring you to completion, to watch you fall apart in his arms. You trembled and shuddered in his hold, face flushed and shimmering with sweat.

“Tosh-“

Your boyfriend clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his thumb slowing in punishment.

“S-sir,” you choked out, legs growing weaker with every passing moment, “I’m g-gonna…”

Satisfied, Hitoshi went back to circling that special little ball of nerves, desperate to please his favorite girl and have you unravel under his touch.

Between his long cock filling you so completely and the careful attention given to your clit, you quickly met your end, crying out as your vision blurred and your knees buckled. You crumpled against the desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer as the orgasm zapped through your shaking body.

“That’s it,” Hitoshi held you steady, talking you through it, “that’s my good girl.”

The sight of you, shoulders shaking from each heaving breath, hair messy from his earlier manhandling, ass proudly on display, was enough to do him in. His climax hit him at full force, tearing a guttural moan from somewhere deep inside of him. Fingers digging into your waist, thick, hot ropes of cum shot from his swelling cock, filling you to the absolute brim.

“Oh, shit…” he hissed, unloading every last bit of himself into your soiled cunt. You merely whimpered, overstimulated and worn out.

Gingerly pulling his softening cock from your leaking core, Hitoshi hoisted the you back into his lap, fingers petting your hair lovingly as you came back down to earth, dazed from such an intense session.

After having regained your composure, you twisted around to place a gentle kiss on your boyfriend’s lips, nothing fancy, just a peck, but oh, so full of love. Hitoshi smiled against your lips, kissing back sweetly.

“What the actual fuck?” the sound of Bakugo’s voice echoing in the headphones brought you back to reality.

“Oh shit.”

tags:

#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou smut #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsō #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi smut #shinso x reader #bnha fanfiction #anime fanfic #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha x reader #oneshot #silkysoftie

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satellite-evans · 1 year ago

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Not Again

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: This time it is another sibling that interrupts benedict and Y/N during a private moment

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, teasing, kissing

A/N:

This is the second part to Caught in the Act, I hope you all enjoy

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

You and Benedict decided to escape the bustle of the Bridgerton household by taking a leisurely stroll through the estate's expansive gardens. The fresh air and vibrant colors of the blooming flowers provided a sense of calmness.

The garden was one of your favorite places, a sanctuary where you could lose yourselves in the beauty of nature and each other’s company. The scent of roses and lavender wafted through the air, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and made the flowers dance. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot as you walked hand in hand, Benedict's thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

Benedict glanced over at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, we could always hide out in the gazebo. It's secluded and peaceful."

You smiled, feeling a sense of adventure bubble up inside you. "Lead the way, Mr. Bridgerton."

The gazebo was nestled at the far end of the garden, surrounded by tall hedges and flowering shrubs. It was a charming, ivy-covered structure with a white lattice roof, offering a perfect hideaway from the world. As you approached, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, admiring how beautiful it looked.

As soon as you reached the gazebo, Benedict pulled you into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. The soft murmurs of the garden, the chirping of birds, and the distant hum of bees created a natural symphony that seemed to celebrate your love.

"Benedict," you murmured against his lips, "someone might see us."

"Let them," he whispered back, his hands roaming your back. "I don't care."

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Benedict's touch was both gentle and possessive, pulling you closer as if he wanted to convey his love and desire through the embrace alone. His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between you all day.

Lost in the intoxicating mix of passion and affection, you allowed yourself to melt into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket. Every touch, every kiss felt like an affirmation of the deep connection you shared, a bond that transcended any embarrassment or interruption.

But just as the intensity of the moment peaked, the tranquility of the garden was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. You both jumped apart, hearts racing, turning to see none other than Anthony Bridgerton standing at the entrance of the gazebo, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face.

"Well, well, well," Anthony drawled, his eyebrow raised. "What do we have here?"

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment. "Anthony, we were just—"

"Just what?" he interrupted, his tone teasing. "Enjoying a private moment in the middle of the garden where anyone could walk by?"

Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Anthony, do you ever knock before entering? Honestly, it's becoming a family habit."

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "Not for family. Besides, it's not every day I catch my brother in such a compromising position."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. The humiliation of being caught again by a Bridgerton sibling was almost too much to bear. Benedict, on the other hand, looked more annoyed than embarrassed. "What do you want, Anthony?"

"I was looking for you," Anthony replied, his tone becoming more serious. "Mother wants to discuss the arrangements for the upcoming ball, and she insists on having everyone's input."

Benedict sighed again, clearly reluctant to leave your side. "Fine, we'll be there in a minute."

Anthony nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Don't take too long. You know how Mother gets when we're late."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Benedict alone once more. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration.

"I swear, this family has a knack for showing up at the most inconvenient times," Benedict muttered, pulling you back into his arms.

You couldn't help but laugh, but it was a strained sound, reflecting your inner turmoil. "I suppose that's part of the charm of being a Bridgerton," you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

As the reality of the situation settled in, your amusement faded, replaced by a sense of vulnerability. "I can't believe we were caught again. First Eloise, now Anthony. It's so embarrassing, Benedict."

Benedict cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to form. "I'm so sorry, my love. I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to spend some private time with you."

You nodded, appreciating his sincerity. "I know, and I love that about you. But you have to admit, this is partly your fault."

Benedict's eyes widened in mock indignation. "My fault? How is this my fault?"

You managed a small, teasing smile. "You're the one who insists on these secret rendezvous in places where your siblings have a habit of showing up unannounced. Maybe next time we should pick somewhere a bit more secluded?"

Benedict laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Point taken. Next time, I promise to choose a better location."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the tension dissipate. "Good. Because as much as I love our little adventures, I'd prefer them without an audience."

Benedict pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with affection. "Deal. No more surprise appearances by the Bridgertons."

As you approached the grand entrance, laughter from inside reached your ears, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the sound of light chatter. You exchanged a glance with Benedict, both of you sharing a quiet moment of relief that the embarrassing interruption in the garden was behind you.

Just as you were about to step inside, a familiar voice rang out from the doorway. "Well, well, well! What do have we here?"

You froze, turning to see Eloise Bridgerton leaning against the doorframe, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Benedict sighed beside you, clearly resigned to yet another round of teasing from his ever-curious sister.

"Eloise," Benedict began, his tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement, "please tell me you're not going to make this any worse."

Eloise chuckled, stepping forward to block your path into the house. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. But I am guessing that the reason the both are you are so flushed is not because the two of you went running."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you shot Benedict a playful glare. "Anthony told you?"

Eloise nodded, her grin widening. "No, but I am guessing what he witnessed is not much different from what I had a couple of weeks ago. Do tell dear brother and sister, do you both have a knack for getting caught in compromising positions?"

Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though a hint of embarrassment lingered in his expression. "Could we perhaps continue this conversation inside or never?"

"Of course," Eloise replied, stepping aside to let you both pass. As you entered the house, she fell into step beside you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, you're lucky it was Anthony who found you and not one of us younger ones. Gregory would have never let you live it down and Hyacinth would just keep asking questions."

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite the teasing. "I can only imagine."

Benedict shot his sister a pointed look as you reached the drawing-room door. "Eloise, I hope this doesn't become a family story."

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, but Benedict, stories like this are what make family gatherings so entertaining."

You exchanged a knowing glance with Benedict, silently acknowledging the truth in Eloise's words. Despite the embarrassment of being caught, there was a certain charm in the way the Bridgeton's teased and supported each other, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and laughter.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton fic rec #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton

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honeyed-blossom · 4 months ago

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Happy Valentines 🌸

I hope everyone has a lovely valentines!! 💌 sending you all my love and a million smooches 😘 please enjoy these two being all gushy and icky hehe

instead of packing for my trip like a sane person, I wrote a little something to go with the drawing if you’d like to read it 🫣

his valentine

Word count: 775

Golden rays danced through the lush foliage carelessly, illuminating the forest with an otherworldly glow. Sunbeams frolicked down the gently beaten path, inviting the boy further in. Even the shadows glided by absentmindedly, as if the world existed without a single care. How she found this place he didn’t know.

Sebastian remembered her calling it a vivarium, describing it as a sanctuary for the beasts she and Poppy rescued over the last year. There were different types of vivariums - one was a languid stretch along a coast, another was a quiet swamp, and she had four of these in total. This one was a vast meadow, scattered with caves and forests, where nifflers, puffeskins, and jabberknolls frocklicked peacefully. It was the embodiment of summer in the highlands, always sunny and temperate. It was her favorite hideaway.

He walked further into the grove, keeping his eyes out for the girl who was somehow able to send his heart into a fit of flutters and drive him insane at the same time. She would be the death of him one day, not that he’d mind.

A soft humming caught his attention, a tune he didn’t recognize. The tune was playful, whimsical even. She was in a good mood it seemed. Sebastian smiled to himself and drifted towards the sounds, careful to hide the large bouquet behind him. He travelled all over the Scottish Highlands to find an assortment of different flowers, the ones he knew she loved. Some, he had to beg Professor Garlick for, though she was more than happy to help once she found out who it was for. Roses, sunflowers, lavender, and jasmine peeked out from layers of jute and ribbons.

Sebastian stopped where the trees ended and the meadow began, hiding in the shadows as he looked for his counterpart. It took less than thirty seconds to spot her - she stood across the way in a creamy cotton dress, letting her mind wander while she watched a pair of jabberknolls glide jovially. She swayed gracefully as she hummed, with her hands clasped behind her back. Basked in sunlight, she looked ethereal. Her usual blush-toned hair now looked like honey, dripping in hues of caramel and gold. He desperately wanted to comb through her locks and leave a trail of kisses, watching as a blush crept up her cheeks.

What are you waiting for, you idiot?

This wasn’t last year, when all he could do was stare longingly at his friend and keep his feelings tightly locked up for fear of rejection. They had now been together for a few months already and Sebastian felt foolish for still being so flustered around her. It was as if any time he was around her, or even thought about her, his brain cells threatened mutiny, combusting into nothingness and leaving him utterly defenseless.

“Valeria!” Sebastian finally called out, stepping out of the shadows and into the blinding light. “There you are.”

Almost immediately, she turned around to face him, her cheeks a soft peachy blush. Her eyes practically sparkled when she saw him and he felt as though he was staring at a nebula of greens, golds, and browns. His breath hitched as a radiant smile spread across her lips.

“Sebastian! There you are,” she chirped and glided towards him. As she got close, she threw her arms around his neck into a hug. Sebastian’s right arm snaked around her waist, squeezing her into him. He watched as her nose crinkled slightly, delighted when she picked up the scents of the flowers.

He grinned and pecked her cheek. “Here, I have a present for you.” He gingerly pulled a flower from the bouquet he was hiding and gently tucked it behind her ear, along with some loose strands of pink tresses. His hand lingered, hesitating to break contact with her. Just as Sebastian started to draw back, Valeria wrapped her long fingers around his hand, pulling it back to rest against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned against his hand, sighing happily.

Sebastian could wait no longer. He gently cupped her cheek and leaned in, tilting his face slightly as he captured her lips with his. He’d kissed her plenty of times before but this one was different and sent his heart soaring. It was sweet like honeycrisp and warm like sunshine. Before he even knew it, he had melted into her, his arms wrapped around her frame with bouquet still in hand. He shivered as she deepened the kiss, pressing her fingers against his curly locks. Sebastian pulled her right against him, clutching her waist desperately as they kissed. And kissed.

And kissed.

#I desperately wanted to draw Valeria that’s it #oh and Sebastian being oh so down bad 🤭#hehehe #hogwarts legacy #valeria davenport #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #happy valentines #Sebastian sallow x mc

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wonderjanga · 8 months ago

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Marvel’s Halloween Costumes

So, it’s almost October, which also means Halloween is coming up. Who or what do you think Billy would go as? I personally think he would go as Starlight, from The Boys. I think he would pull up in full cosplay, skirt and everything. Let’s say something wacky happens in Fawcett during Halloween too and the Ghost of Halloween pops out of nowhere and stars wreaking havoc and all of a sudden a superhero dressed as a fictional superhero raises their hands and electrocutes the ghost. I can also see Billy either knowing nothing about the show or actually having watched the show. Because if he hasn’t watched it would be funny, but if he has it would be hilarious, because I think Billy would fully go along with the ‘pretending to be in The Boys universe’ thing. (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, go to YouTube and go to the Vought International channel, click any of the vids, then go to the comments and you’ll see what I mean)

Like honestly, I can see an interview like this happening after he defeated the Ghost of Halloween:

Reporter: “Hello, fellow citizens of Fawcett, after our hero’s battle with the Ghost of Halloween, I’ve managed to snag an interview with him! So, Captain Marvel, it appears you’re dressed up for the holiday. Who are you?”

Marvel: “Oh, I’m Starlight, from The Boys.” *Gives a little smile and wave.*

Reporter: “May I ask why you picked her?” *Holds up microphone for Marvel.*

Marvel: “I picked her cause she’s my favorite character from the show, and she has lightning powers like me.” *holds a hand up and let a couple sparks dance around his fingers before putting his hand down* “i actually almost went as Stormfront, not show Stormfront though, comic Stormfront. And if you’ve read the comics or at least seen what he looks like, you’d notice that me and him look pretty alike.” (I’ll show a pic of him at the end) “He actually has a lot a my powers, of course on a smaller scale. But you see, sure, he has most of my powers, his suit also looks a lot like mine but of course, he’s a nazi. He’s literally weaker me if I wore more purple and had Captain Nazi’s personality. So… it was obviously an automatic no.”

(Bro doesn’t know this could get him canceled maybe)

And so yeah. I could see this happening. Also, he found out that he and Stargirl were twinning when he went up to the Watchtower to steal an entire box of Halloween themed cupcakes brought in by Canary. (he’s broke and doesn’t want to get an actual Halloween bucket because he knows the rats in his little hideaway will eat it all. The box holding the cupcakes might slow them down enough so that he can wake up before the rodents get to them)(Starlight is a parody of Stargirl apparently too)

Also, also, I think Freddy would dress up as Brightburn, and I think that every time someone would ask about it, Billy would say something along the lines of, “kids will be kids,” or “he’s being edgy,” or “he’s going through that phase.” As for Mary, I actually have no idea who’d she dress up as but for some reason my mind keeps going to Glitter Lucky or Glitter Peace from Glitter Force so let’s go with one of those. (I think it’d be more likely Glitter Peace cause she has lightning powers)

Also the photo:

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bigtreefest · 6 months ago

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Through My Eyes

Pairing: Husband! Jake Jensen x Wife! Reader (Newlyweds)

Summary: Despite everything going on around you, you’re Jake’s first priority

Word count: 2,167

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, nipple play, kissing, misty eyes and sniffles, angst, newlyweds and such, Jake and his glasses and his hair and his beefy body and his everything, body image issues and exhaustion, use of pet names

A/N: um, I’m going through a bit of a rough time, but I started this fic even before that. It’s not my best, but I think it’s what I, and many others might need right now. Please enjoy and let me know what you think through a comment, ask, or reblog. Partially inspired by this.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Today was… a lot. Too much, in fact. Like three separate days, hitting you all at once with the force of a train, and your body felt like a defenseless balloon against it. That was fitting, too, considering how bloated and lethargic you felt, hardly able to make your way home. So much had gone wrong today that you felt terrible mentally and most definitely physically, so yeah, you tried to muster up what strength you had left to drift home, not dissimilar to the way a half-deflated balloon meanders through the sky.

After you parked in the garage, you shuffled inside and directly to the couch, weaving through the labyrinth of boxes that were a product of you and Jake moving into your new, shared house. Luckily, the couch was one of the few spaces set up amongst the stacks of cardboard that surrounded. All you wanted to do was curl up in a blanket and hide from the world, but those were packed up, too. There were only throw pillows that had come out of a random box and a select few clothing items that you and Jake had unpacked already and hung in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom.

So before you heaved yourself onto the cushions, you tiptoed on the cool floors of the hallway on the way to the bedroom closet. Instantly, you shucked off your work clothes and left them in the corner. You grabbed a pair of fuzzy socks in a sparse dresser drawer and slipped them on before sifting through the dozen or so hangers of Jake’s until you came upon what you really wanted: your favorite hoodie of his. It was just oversized enough to reach your mid thigh, stretched and worn throughout the years to become unbelievably soft. And of course, you knew Jake had just worn it the previous night to bed since actual pajamas were somewhere buried deep in the mess and the two of you hadn’t picked out bedding for the new king bed yet.

It was perfect as you slipped it over your head, enveloping you in his comforting scent, and just the thought that this was the next best thing to him holding you, even though you really didn’t want anything to be around, seeing you in this state. The brief satisfaction was enough to get you back to the couch to cuddle up and prop yourself up in the pillows as you brought the hood over your head and nestled in.

It was like the action itself summoned your husband, because as soon as you got settled, the sound of the garage door opening echoed throughout the unfurnished house like the sunlight that bounced off the white walls, unblocked from the lack of blinds. From your little hideaway with your face pressed into the pile of throw pillows, you couldn’t see him, but you could hear his gentle footsteps and the jingle of his keys being tossed onto the kitchen counter.

“Love, I’m home. Where are you?”

You let out a groan from your spot on the couch and Jake’s body immediately followed the sound, coming to kneel on the area rug under the furniture.

His hand gently rubbed your back, the other warm palm resting on the side of your bare knee, coaxing you to turn over and look at him, but it didn’t work. You just stayed as curled in on yourself as you could be.

“You gonna turn over?”

You shook your head, your muffled voice emerging from the fabric.

“No. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Jake lightly chuckled, but couldn’t help the way worry traced his features. Were you injured? In pain?

“See you like what, Lovey? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You sighed and shook your head again.

“No….well, sort of.” You let out an exasperated groan. “Nothing specifically happened, but also everything happened and there’s just so much to do and I don’t wanna do it and I just feel so blah.”

Jake cocked his head to the side, and hummed sympathetically.

“Feeling blah, huh?

Another nod.

“How so?”

“I’m just so exhausted. Tired and bloated and it all just makes me feel horrible about myself. Why can’t I push through, why do I hate everything about this so much?”

Jake worried as he heard the way your voice began to shake. You finally turned over to look at him, a hand reaching out for his cheek as you sniffled.

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for this. I’m so gross.”

Jake’s brow furrowed in light offense, hurt that you were doing so poorly that it caused that negative self-talk. He wanted you to know feelings were valid, but sometimes the pessimistic voices were too loud over the logical, loving ones without justification.

“First off, my sweet, wonderful wife, I signed up for every single day for the rest of my life to be by your side. If this is the worst you think you’ve got for me, I’d say we’re living pretty well.”

A soft smile at the kindness that filled every cell of this man’s body tweaked the corner of your lips.

“And secondly, you’re gross because why? You’re a little tired from trying to live a full life? A little bloated? I’m sure it’s not nearly bad as you think it is. Will you let me see?”

You huffed out a breath and nodded, reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt and lifting it to expose your bare belly to your husband. Since the material was up over your face, you couldn’t see him, but you could hear him blow out a low whistle before placing a kiss just below your belly button, giggling right after. You instantly threw your hands back down, trapping Jake under the soft fabric. He gently pulled his head out, hair in an adorable mess, causing the other side of your mouth to curve upward.

“What was that about, you goof?”

Jake was laughing now as he shrugged. “I can’t believe you fell for that. You look so good. Always have, always will to me. Perfection.”

Your cheeks grew warm in bashfulness as your hands, covered in the long sleeves of the hoodie, covered your face. Except, you were giggling, too, as Jake gently moved your arms and you were met with his smiling face.

“I’m serious. I’ll love you forever, no matter what. I know I can’t fix the day you had, but can I do something to make it better? Here, take my phone and order dinner. Whatever you want. And in the meantime, I wanna try a little something to help you relax. Does that sound good?”

You nodded and bit your lip, grabbing Jake’s phone out of his hand and opening the food delivery app. Distracted by the screen, you didn’t see him go for a grab on your hips, but suddenly, your body was flipped right-side-up to face him and you were scooted to the edge of of the couch with a squeal.

From his place between your legs, Jake looked up at you, your confusion met by a cheesy smirk.

“Go on, Love Dove. You do your job, I’ll do mine. Just be sure to check the delivery confirmation so I know how much time I have.”

His head dipped to the side and he began to kiss up your inner thigh from your knee. A shiver ran through you as his nose lightly brushed against the cotton of the panties you were wearing under his hoodie which had ridden up. Jake gently kissed over your clothed clit before you felt the faint pressure of his wet tongue tracing your slit, soaking the gusset more.

He looked up at you expectantly, voice lightly muffled by the way he was pushed up against you. “The quicker you put the order in, the quicker all we have to focus on is each other.”

You nodded, a whine spilling from your lips as you fought throwing your head back against the couch cushions.

To give you a light reprieve, Jake backed away, starting to kiss upwards from your other knee. It gave you just enough time to select the first decent-looking restaurant you could, pick a few dishes you knew you and Jake would like, and hit submit before throwing the phone to the side.

“Twenty minutes.”

Jake nodded, reaching for the sides of your panties as you lifted your hips to help him shimmy them down your legs. He groaned as your glistening heat was exposed to him, eager to dive right in.

As you looked down at him, his eyes flickered between you and the glimpse of heaven in front of him. He leaned forward, giving a gentle lick to your clit, delighted with the gasp that left your lips. And then Jake latched on, his eyes not leaving yours as you felt the strong muscle his tongue flicking back and forth paired with delicious suction. Your hands found his hair, bleached locks peeking out from between your fingers as your breath started getting heavy.

His lips kissed their way down the crease of one thigh and up the other, circling where he went next, his tongue licking a firm stripe up your slit before entering you. Another whine left your body as he warmed you up, your pelvis grinding upwards, seeking stimulation for your neglected nub.

Jake hummed, sensing what you needed, and moving back upwards, his facial hair scratching the sensitive skin as he did. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, biceps bulging, fingertips of one hand putting delightful pressure on your lower stomach, the other digging into the plush flesh of your hip as he willed himself closer to you.

His glasses began to fog up from the hot breath emerging from his nose against your mound, his eyes sparkling up at you as he suckled your clit. It was all so much, and all so good.

Your whines turned into little squeaks and wails, increasing in pitch as you neared your peak not just from your husband’s expertise in the way he strummed your body, but the way he took care of you, took action with only you in mind.

Your flat palms turned to fists in his hair, earning another groan that was enough to tip you over the edge, your legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut, just like your thighs around his head. Jake kept going, though, a finger entering your convulsing pussy that squeezed his thrusts tight. Jake’s other hand snaked up your side, pushing the sweatshirt with it to reveal a hardened nipple that he began to pinch and tweak. The combined sensation coaxed another orgasm from you and you keened.

Jake finally backed off a little, gently licking your dripping arousal from your entrance and his fingers, letting you down from your high. Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath, eyes still closed and ears ringing to the point where you hadn’t heard Jake get up to grab a wet paper towel from the kitchen to clean you up and a pair of his boxers from the bedroom. You just winced slightly as he gingerly wiped between your legs and pressed a kiss to your dewy forehead before sliding the underwear on and taking a spot next to you on the couch.

On instinct you curled into him and Jake cradled your body in his arms.

“You feel better?”

You nodded, your head tucked into his neck.

“Yeah. Like jell-o. Thank you for that, Jakey.”

He smiled as he rubbed your back.

“Any time, Lovey Dovey.”

You pulled away, looking up at him, smiling at the sweet nickname, but in his gaze, you felt as if you saw something else.

“Do you want me t-“

He cut you off, “Absolutely not. I did that for you, not because I wanted anything else in return. If anything, it was a treat for me. And before you say you feel like you owe me, no you don’t. That’s what marriage is. We take care of each other.”

You smiled, simply nodding in understanding. “Okay.”

Jake pulled you in tighter again for an extra squeeze that made you laugh against his chest. You spoke up with your smushed cheek, a smirk rising.

“And then after dinner maybe we can watch a movie on the laptop and break in the jacuzzi tub?”

Jake leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, his nose nudging against yours lovingly as the doorbell rang and he began to stand up.

“That sounds wonderful. Whatever you want, Mrs. J.”

You beamed at him and watched as he grabbed the food and returned, the two of you settling by a cardboard box you’d been using as a makeshift dining table.

Your meal, and the rest of the night was filled with laughter, and lots and lots of love, like you knew your relationship would be from beginning to end.

Bonus A/N: I hope you enjoyed this episode of sweet hubby Jake and his Love Dove. Thank you to my friends who helped me brainstorm nicknames for this sweet, sweet couple. And thank you to all of those who have been there for me. I love you.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi

#Jake Jensen #Jake Jensen x reader #newlywed!jake Jensen #husband! Jake Jensen x wife! reader #newlywed AU #say I do AU #Jake Jensen fluff #Jake Jensen smut #Jake Jensen angst #Jake Jensen comfort #husband Jake #husband! Jake #husband Jake Jensen #Jake Jensen x love dove

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perdidosbucky-yyo · 1 year ago

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𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛

Pairing: Exotic Dancer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader (no mention of gender or ethnicity)

Summary: Hi, you've reached [your name]. I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!

w/c: 3.7k

warnings: cheating (on reader), lots of cursing, smoking, heavy drinking, weed smoking, body image issues (I'm sorry), this is a smutty fic (but there’s no smut), dry humping. Please let me know if I missed anything <3

a/n: This is the first fic I've posted in years lmao, I'm a bit rusty, but omfg I enjoyed writing this so much, it's very self-indulgent hehe I hope you love it just as much as I do.

this is not beta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.

Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged🥺

7:51 PM

“Baby please, You know I’m an idiot…she means nothing” Jake whined through the phone.

As of 5 hours ago, he became your ex but kept on calling you, each call pleading for your forgiveness and saying the same stupid excuse “I felt you pulling away, what was I supp-”

Before you could interrupt him yourself, your best friend and roommate took your phone “Listen closely you little shit, if you don’t stop calling I’ll personally chop off your balls, fry’em up and feed them to your mother in a fucking salad… it’s Wanda by the way” she huffs as she hands you back the phone, “Colorful” you grimace.

Shoving you inside the car, with you and Wanda on the back, Bruce behind the wheel and Tony as co-pilot, “Why do you even answer his calls?” Tony asks while Wanda lights up a Marlboro, and gives you a drag “Because I want to tell him to go fuck himself… I- I just can’t seem to find the right words”, “That seems right” Wanda quips and you roll your eyes, “Don’t worry you’ll find the words when the time’s right” Bruce adds, “Dr. Banner is right, tonight is all about getting shit-faced” Tony adds.

You all clap and turn up the volume to the perfect song “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know” Wanda sings, the wind on her face, while Bruce shouts “WE LOVE YOU MADONNA”.

They were right, fuck Jack, tonight you wanted to let go, you weren’t one for parties or clubbing but you couldn’t stay at home feeling sorry for yourself, partying with your friends seemed like the perfect distraction “LET’S FUCKING GO” you shouted at the top of your lungs.

9:05 PM

“The Hush-Hush Hideaway?” you laughed as you finished your first beer after two cherry vodka shots, sounds like a place where 50 year olds would come to have an affair, “Alright, alright before you keep on talking trash, there is more eye to meet” Tony argues, to that Wanda snorts “are you seriously drunk right now? after three piña coladas?”, Bruce laughs “they’re stronger than they look” Tony defends himself as he stands up, signaling you all to head to the dance floor.

You honestly loved the place, the lighting was incredible, the atmosphere was hot pink with hints of dark red and deep purple, the ceiling was decorated with hundreds of disco balls shining down on you, the bar had tables so crystalline and so red, it looked like solidified blood, each one surrounded by the comfiest leather couches. There was also the dance floor which you were dancing on now, it had the perfect stage for dancers or any kind of show, the whole place had the perfect mix of chic and urban.

10:39 PM

“This round’s on me” Tony shouts over the loud music as he hands you what would probably be your 5th drink, stumbling around as you danced to a song that suddenly became your favorite, as you downed the liquid gold you took Tony’s hand and started giving him a lap dance of some sorts which made everyone laugh along with you.

And then everything went pitch black, for 5 seconds the music was over, lights were out, for a moment you thought you passed out but then a huge white light shone straight into the middle of the stage, “Girls Gays and Theys!” a deep voice over the microphone started, “is this a gay bar?” Bruce genuinely chimed in, making you giggle.

“Tonight we encourage you to let that wild side of yours out! Please give a warm welcome to The White Wolf” the voice cheered with excitement and the crowd roared and cheered back, “he must be really good looking” you sassed, and in that moment, red ropes descended.

Not a second later a man dressed in a kevlar suit swirled down as if swimming in the red fabric, wrapping himself in a cocoon in the air so the next second he rolled down to the stage, the top of his leathery suit gone, leaving his gorgeous toned abdomen exposed making the crowd go wild. The lights enhanced his beautiful body. “D-does he have glitter on?!” Tony shouted in awe, everyone absolutely going crazy over this tall, brown-haired, thick oh so fucking thick specimen.

On the other hand, you were finding breathing a difficult task, especially because his eyes were trained on yours, maybe it was the several drinks in your system or the empowering song that heightened everything, but his stare was intense, the ice blue of his eyes chilled your spine and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the show, come down and rip your clothes off… yeah you definitely felt tipsy now.

This man knew the power he held, not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he had autonomy of every nerve and every muscle on his body, your heart and pussy were practically pulsing as you watched him dance. The magic was broken when you felt your phone ring in your pocket, taking it out, you saw it was Jake calling AGAIN, you knew your friends would tell you not to pick up, but part of you wanted to hear him out and scream at him, you didn’t know which one you were going to do.

Leaving the dance floor and heading to the bathrooms where you hoped it’d be quieter, you swipe to the green bubble “Please please forgive me” is the first thing the man says, making you sigh in frustration “S-top stop saying you’re sorry” but it’s like talking to a wall, you’re not even sure he heard you because he just keeps on whining.

??:??

You don’t know how much time you spent listening to him in the bathroom but eventually, you give up and hang up on him, splashing some fresh water in your neck you exit the room and bump into a rock-hard wall, but then unexpectedly the wall starts talking and you think maybe it’s not a wall.

“it was rude to bail” a grave voice rumbles in your ear through all of the noise, looking up you see it’s the white wolf, making you almost choke on air, but you were quick enough to react and raise an eyebrow in response “sorry?”.

Without even noticing, the man had cornered you into a wall “Don’t apologize, you can make it up to me” he said with a wild smile, “oh he’s good” you thought, then he looked at you as if he read your mind, “you look like someone in desperate need to have some fun… let me give you a hand” he whispered, his confidence made you forget he was a stranger, and oddly enough it felt like you knew him perfectly, the thought of spending your night with him made you shudder.

Taking out what looked like a big fat blunt from one of his pockets, he dragged the little bundle of joy from your exposed thighs, up your arms, slowly passing through your neck, and finally grazing your soft lips, his eyes never once leaving yours, he leaned in and the smell of cedarwood with a touch of french vanilla made your eyes roll.

Man, you’re really not keeping your cool, but he’s too beautiful for you to care, you might as well pucker your lips, but then he backs away, taking your hand and leading you to the backdoor between the kitchens. The sound of music and people dancing start to disappear until it’s muffled, “are we allowed in here?” you laugh as he lights up the joint and takes a big gulp, your heart pounds with excitement, this is exactly what you needed.

Your inner demons whispered that he really wasn’t interested in you, he looked like he was sculptured by frigging Michelangelo, he’d never want to be with someone as big as you, plus you felt sweaty from dancing most of the night, but honestly, it was more about the nerves you felt around him, but just as easy as the negative thoughts came, he batted them away with a single kiss to your cheek, near enough to the corner of your lips “lost you there for a sec” he teased.

As he handed you the joint, you took it with hesitance, “I usually don’t take marihuana from strangers, you got a name or does everyone call you the white wolf?” you teased, carefully eyeing him, realizing that he was still shirtless unconsciously making you bite your lip.

A lazy smile spread on his face “Waddaya mean you don’t know me? Pfft I’m your latest conquest”, it threw you off but he looked so sincere it made the butterflies in your stomach dance, “I’m Bucky” he laughed, he was so at ease with that pretty smile you couldn’t do anything but swoon.

Taking a drag of the blunt you breathe out the smoke through your nose as you offer him your name in return, not wasting a second he repeats it, slowly, maybe he was high but it seemed as though he enjoyed the sound of your name on his tongue, he savored it, your legs pressed against each other and you had to take another drag so not to seem desperate as you were for him.

He might be a stranger but deep down you felt unbelievable attraction, in less than 10 minutes of knowing him he made you feel powerful, and free, like maybe in a past life or somethin’ he was your soulmate… Pfft, you wanted to crack up at your own thoughts, somehow Bucky knew and started laughing, slowly leaning into you and crashing his lips with yours, it was sloppy but fuck you’d never been kissed like that, it was passionate, you felt wanted, right then and there you were ready and willing to let him swoop you off your feet.

12:59 AM

Bucky was showing you his best moves, his calloused hands gripped and groped your body as you both swayed your hips against each other perfectly in sync.

He was so smooth, the fogginess of the joint rumbled through your body, each touch, every one of his strokes felt like a wave, you were floating in a sea of music and his scent, nothing was wrong with the world, nothing could harm you because he was right behind you, worshipping you, telling you how he loved the feel of every roll and every curve, you couldn’t help but smile and he couldn’t help but kiss that beautiful smile.

Not long after your friends found you and you introduced them to the dancer who blew their minds, some of his friends joined you, and not long after you were the life of the party, shots and blunts came pouring, and just like you wanted you became one with bucky, you didn’t know where you began or where he ended, pain and misery were a strange and unknown concept tonight.

1:55 AM

Wanda had to drag you away from Bucky to chat with you a bit, she couldn’t hide that grin even if she tried “Dude I don’t even recognize you right now” you laugh with her knowing very well what she means, squeezing her wrist you stop the urge to squeal, “I don’t know how this happened but fuck he’s just so pretty I wanna cry” you both giggle, understanding the Rachel Green reference.

Turning to see Bucky you caught him already watching you, it looked like he was chatting with his friends but he wouldn’t look away from you, you realized he was waiting for you, and honestly you were eager to return to his embrace and intoxicating scent “Fuck Jack, you have men waiting in line” Wanda practically shouts as she pushes you back to the dance floor.

2:12 AM

After a while your social battery was low and you needed a break, so now you leaned against the wall in the back alley of the bar, a cigarette lit, resting on your fingertips as you recalled the events that brought you here tonight.

You didn’t blame Wanda for reminding you of Jake and what he did, after all, she was just hyping you, but now your mind was plagued, you memorized with detail how you found them, as some sort of self-punishment, why? you didn’t know, after years of therapy, you were still trying to unlearn self-deprecating thoughts that your family and society shoved in your face.

Jake cheating on you with a leggy blonde who was quite literally a Victoria's Secret model was a kick to your stomach, it made you realize that maybe every bad thought you had about yourself was true, and that was terrifying…

Realizing that the cigarette burned itself out, you stepped on it, but before you could come back inside Bucky opened the door and grinned “There you are, was worried I spooked ya”, to that you chuckled, somehow the laws of social battery didn’t apply to the handsome trapeze dancer “Never”.

Stepping outside and standing next to you, he takes your hand and starts playing with your fingers “What’s got my sweet doll so down?”, you expected the pet name to make you cringe but instead swooned. Lighting another cigarette you take a drag and blow it on his face, and he just bites the smoke, making you giggle, after a beat of silence you show him your heart.

“About… 11 hours ago, my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me” you sigh, trying with all your might not to shed a single fucking tear, Jake didn’t deserve them, “Gimme his address” he deadpans, a look so deadly in his eyes, that spark was almost snuffed, but just as quickly his attitude changed, “I’ll kill 'im with my bare hands, I’LL FUCKING KILL ’IM” he shouts with foux determination, making wild animal noises that are making you laugh so hard you can’t breathe “you’re not funny” you say out of breath.

His thumb cleans away a single runaway tear, his touch is so gentle at first you’re not even sure he’s holding you, he’s so close you feel his breath on your cheek and his nose caressing your skin oh so lightly, “you’re dreaming”, you think incredulously.

In a second his touch becomes rough as he grips your face with both his hands, holding you still so you can’t look anywhere but his eyes, “he’s a fucking moron” he spits out, almost insulted, “and I don’t mean a jerk or plain stupid, I mean he’s missing some fucking brain cells to let go of someone so insanely beautiful as you”.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears, you’re about to explain but he cuts you off “And I don’t even need to know him, to be sure of what I’m telling you right now” he scoffs, “Hell, I don’t even have to know you to be sure, in the very short time I’ve known you, you’ve been everything” bucky almost can’t believe he’s saying this to you, suddenly the tension is palpable and neither of you can breathe…

“You’re driving me insane” is the last thing he says before pushing you against the wall, with a grunt he grips your waist and your lips crash with his, in a fight for dominance your tongues swirl, it’s as if Jake or any other man never existed, washed away by the ocean that is Bucky.

You loved how vocal he was being, he moaned into the kiss as you practically humped him, he bit your swollen lips as a warning to slow down but it only turned you on more. You could feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and it drove both of you nuts, with all his strength he pulled away, leaving you dizzy and pulling him for more, he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants you but he would never have sex with someone so drunk, even if that person begged as nicely as you were right now.

He laughs as you start leaving hot open kisses throughout his neck and jaw purring like a cat, “Bucky please” you mewled, asking him for more, his hand flew to grasp your hair in a tight grip, nibbling on your skin as he reached your ear “We aren’t doing anything except kissing the fuck out of each other doll” he whispered.

You made for a grab to his groin but he was able to take your hand and hold it above your head “I want you nice and sober when I get you to cream on my cock”, he groans as you make a final attempt to lure him in, but you know he’s right, so you huff in defeat, a pout on display to make your feelings known, “baby doll what’s wrong? you look flushed” he teases as you gasp in faux offense.

3:45 AM

The bar kicked everyone out but you still had some party left in you and apparently, so did Bucky because he’s already got you piggyback riding him to his car, you said goodbye to your friends assuring them you trusted Bucky, his place was less than 10 minutes away and you’d send them your location.

Once you got to the car Bucky stopped in his tracks, “we’re drunk and high as hell” he stated, and like a bucket of iced water you realized he was right “Accurate statement” you snort, carefully dropping you on the ground he swiftly turned to face you “so we should… perhaps, maybe take a cab” he goofs around as he steals small kisses form you “or we can walk? your place’s near right?” you reply, everyone was already gone to ask for a ride but he liked the idea of having some alone time with you, so, he picked you up and placed you on his back “To the Batcave!” he runs as you hold onto him as tight as you could.

4:05 AM

You peacefully walked on the side of the street as cars passed by, one thing that you loved about walking at night was the lack of noise, the night wasn’t completely quiet, you could still hear the cars in the distance, people coming in and out of bars or whatever, the breeze was the perfect temperature and the city lights of New York were shone beautifully.

Hand in hand you walked with your latest conquest as he so eloquently put it, conversation flowing, “I got cheated on once, it fucking sucks” You both laughed at the obvious statement “I thought we were going steady and she got bored” he shrugged, “it was a while ago, but it definitely messed with my head” he whispered as he squeezed your hand, it brought him comfort and you as well.

“You know what’s fucking hilarious though? I was planning on breaking up with him…ok don’t judge me” you laughed, “but I just stayed with him because it was easier to stay in a mediocre relationship than actually fight for my happiness…plus he had a hot tub” you felt stupid for saying it, but he didn’t judge you, his face remained the same, attentive.

Bucky took your hand and kissed each one of your knuckles “I got a really nice bathtub” he murmured into your skin with a smirk, your heart fluttered to what he implied so you jumped and kissed his cheek, holding onto his arm for dear life, content with how the day turned out.

4:38 AM

After smoking yet another joint together you were now straddling your dancer’s lap on his bathtub “It really is a nice bathtub” You grinned between kisses and he laughed, his hands roaming your soft skin under your clothes, you were heaven on earth he kept thinking, he was about to kiss you again but was interrupted by your phone ringing, which made both of you sigh in frustration.

You knew who it was, Jake had been calling over and over for the last 20 minutes and Bucky had enough of the bastard, “Answer him” he ordered, to which you raised an eyebrow “I- can’t I- seriously?” you say almost shocked “You know what you wanna say to him, so say it” he encouraged with a soft smile.

Without thinking twice you pick up, “Finally! what took you so long to pick up?” Jake barks, you have the phone on speaker so Bucky could listen, and he already hated how the jerk talked to you, making him grip your waist with possessiveness.

“What do you want?” you ask almost uninterested, “Baby please forgive me” he cries as if you could ever believe anything he said to you, “I’m so so fucking sorry, what else do you want me to say?!”, to that you let out an unamused laugh “just stop fucking saying you’re sorry, time to put on your big boy pants and take responsibility” you snark, which oddly, turns on bucky beyond belief.

Like a magnet, his lips start leaving love bites on your neck, making you gulp, “Babe let’s be honest, in a month you’ll be begging me to get back together, we both know you need someone to take care of you, you can’t be alone, you need me” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and then you really were done with his bullshit.

“Listen closely you fucktard, stop saying you’re sorry, stop begging me to forgive you, you were a waste of my time and the only reason I didn’t break up with you sooner was because it was convenient for me to stay with your sorry ass” you bark.

You could keep going but now Bucky was humming against your pulse, finding it incredibly hot how you stood up for yourself, he peppered you with hot open kisses that made your mind even fuzzier than the weed, “And I can take care of myself ass” you hiss in delight, it was meant to be an insult but Bucky was making you feel so good…

“Fucking drop that call”, bucky growled into your neck loud enough to be heard over the phone, then sunk his teeth into your soft skin, making you moan, unintentionally into the phone, before dropping it and gripping Bucky’s hair for support as you rubbed against the bulge on his pants “Fuck I can’t wait to make you mine” he moaned, dreaming of all the possibilities, of everything he wanted to do with and to you.

Despite the chills you felt down your spine, despite feeling exactly the same way, you laugh, “Honey… do you think it’s gonna be that easy?” you coo, drunk in power, you devour his perfect pink lips.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #exoticdancer!bucky #stripper!bucky #sebastian stan #carrot's harvest #Spotify

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butlervibesonly · 7 months ago

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𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 || Austin Butler

• Summary : It is yours and Austin's 10th anniversary, and it's not just any kind. Austin wants this anniversary to be the best anniversary ever, and as you probably might know — he's going to be successful.

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : Nothing more than a fluff

The sky is painted with shades of pink and gold as the sun sinks toward the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beach. It’s a quiet spot that Austin and you stumbled upon years ago, early in your relationship, and it quickly became one of your favorite places—a little hideaway where it feels like the rest of the world disappears.

It's actually yours and Austin's 10th dating anniversary. You guys met in your early teenage years, on the set of some series that was your early start of acting career. Since the moment Austin's eyes met yours, there was absolutely no doubt you two fell in love completely.

As today marks 10th anniversary, he suggested this beach outing earlier, insisting on going in time to catch the sunset. He even packed a little picnic for the two of you, spreading out a soft blanket on the sand, the sound of waves lapping against the shore filling the quiet as you sit together, sipping wine and sharing stories from the day. Austin’s been holding your hand the entire time, his thumb gently tracing circles along your skin, and every so often, you catch him looking at you with a soft, almost undescribable expression.

As the sun dips lower, casting that magical, golden light across everything, he suddenly stands, reaching down and offering you his hand with a small smile. “Walk with me, love?” he asks, his voice a little softer than usual. You take his hand, letting him guide you closer to the water, where the waves gently wash over your feet. "Oooh, it's cold!" you giggle as the cold wave of ocean hit your legs. You were wearing beautiful white dress, they were little longer, so you hold their hem so they wouldn't get wet.

For a moment, Austin just holds your hand, looking out at the ocean as if gathering his thoughts. Then he turns to you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. Austin takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to speak. “I remember the first time I met you,” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “I remember thinking… I’ve never met anyone like her. You walked in, and I knew, even then, that my life was about to change. And every day since, you’ve been the best thing in my life.”

You feel a warmth rise in your chest, a smile tugging at your lips as he steps closer, holding both of your hands now. “I’ve thought about this moment so many times, honey,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion.

“How I’d tell you just how much you mean to me. How every day with you has made me feel more complete than I ever thought I could.” Austin says, his eyes shining with something so unspoken, yet so bright.

"I don’t think I ever really knew what love was until I met you, Y/n... You’ve been my sun, my laughter, my reason to wake up every morning with a smile. You’ve seen me at my best, with your support and brightness. And even at my worst, and you were there, being a shoulder i could cry on, my strength. And everything in between, and through it all, you’ve been my safe place."

Austin pauses, his eyes softening as he watches your reaction. Then, he slowly lowers himself down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. Your heart skips a beat, and you clasp your hand to your mouth as he opens it, revealing a sparkling ring that catches the last rays of the setting sun.

"I really want to spend my life making you as happy as you’ve made me. I want to be there for every little adventure, and woah — there were already plenty of those small or big adventures!" he makes you giggle through your tears. "I want to be the one you lean on, the one you laugh with, the one you come home to, always. So, here I am, asking you, to let me be the person who gets to love you forever, because, Y/n, I can't imagine life with anyone but you."

His words are like blanket for your heart. The warmth and honesty that his speech brings is totally unbelievable and you already love this moment more than anything.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with love and hope. Your and also his eyes are filled with tears as the moment fills both of your heart.

You can barely speak, as you nod. “Yes,” escapes your lips, almost sobbing. Austin's face lights up with the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen as he slips the ring onto your finger, then stands, pulling you into his arms. He kisses you, deeply and softly, the two of you wrapped up in each other, standing in the golden light as waves crash around you.

When you finally pull back, both of you laughing and a little breathless, he holds your face, gazing into your eyes with pure love. “Forever,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping the tears from your face. "I can't wait to be yours, forever." you kiss him passionately.

"I love you, so much."

"I love you too, Austin."

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fandom #austin butler x y/n

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veevrsee · 17 days ago

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❝ ⎯⎯ Their Favorite Parts of You ! ꞌꞋ ࣪ 형 라인 　❞

┈ They find in every part of you a precious little piece to take care and love in secret...

› Pairing: Shinyu X Reader | Dohoon X Reader | Youngjae X Reader › Word Count: 3.3 K › Warning: None, just TWS being clingy and very dizzy for you.

┈ Note ! ꞌꞋ hiiii, I came back with something too tender, and honestly it came out more poetic and longer than I thought, that's why I divided it into “Hyung Line” and “Maknae Line”. Here we start with the Hyung line, and... Honestly... I've got me completely mesmerized, literally, I'm kicking my feet and giggling.

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so there will probably be several typos or it will look very formal; an apology for that. Without further ado I hope you like it and have a nice night/day.

vee﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒

Shinyuㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤShin Junghwan !

His favorite part: Your eyes

There was one constant in Shinyu's life ever since you came to TWS.

Something that remained immovable, even when everything else - the choreography, the promos, the endless rehearsals, the interviews, the days of exhaustion - seemed to flounder in the chaos of the idol world. That constant was your eyes.

You.

You with those damn beautiful eyes that made him forget how to breathe.

He never told you so. Not once. He was too cautious, too quiet, too much yours in a way that even you didn't know. But if anyone could see the contents of his mind, of his chest, of every single second he spent with you - or without you - they would understand.

Shinyu did not love you.

Shinyu was consumed by you.

And it all started -and ended- in your eyes.

He had noticed it from the first day. Not the first time he saw you. Not when you walked in the door of the practice room, not when you awkwardly greeted each other as new group mates.

No.

It was a moment later, when someone else made a stupid joke - it was Kyungmin for sure - , and you laughed, turned around naturally, and your eyes sought him out. Without thinking about it. As if he was your anchor point. As if you just wanted to share that moment with him.

It was there.

The exact second when Shinyu stopped being a person and became a compass pointing only at you.

He had never seen a color like that before.

It wasn't a specific shade - not brown, not honey, not black - but something impossible to name. As if every emotion you felt, every thought, every universe you held, was reflected in the way they shone.

When you spoke, your eyes were rivers. They moved, they sparkled, sometimes they narrowed when you concentrated, sometimes they opened so wide when you were surprised that he had to look away, because the intensity was too much.

There were times - many times - when he would just stay silent, pretending to be distracted by his phone or listening to some half-hearted conversation. But his attention was always on you. Watching how your pupils dilated when you spoke excitedly. How the blinks shortened when you were nervous. How they glowed, dim, in the dimness of the room when everyone was asleep but you and he were still awake, sharing secrets that would never leave those walls.

One of his favorite memories - although he had hundreds - was a rainy night on the dormitory roof. The staff didn't know you guys went up there sometimes. It was your refuge, a hideaway high above the world. You were wrapped in a blanket, cross-legged, your hair a little damp from the fog, and he sat next to you without a word.

You were telling him something. He doesn't remember what. Something about a dream you had. Maybe a silly thing, but you told it with that energy of yours that drove him crazy. And he… he wouldn't listen to the words. He just looked at you.

Your mouth moved.

Your hands were gesturing.

But your eyes. God, your eyes.

He followed them with his gaze as if they were the horizon.

And then something happened that made time break. You stopped suddenly. You looked straight at him. And you said to him:

— "Are you listening to me?"

He didn't know what to answer. Because he wasn't. He wasn't listening to you. He was seeing you.

And not just seeing. Studying. Absorbing. Feeling every cell in his body screaming to touch you, to tell you that you were his oxygen, that he could live a lifetime without eating, without sleeping, if in return he could look into your eyes every day.

But you just laughed, with that light laughter, not knowing that you had just broken his soul with softness.

That's when he did it.

He brought his hand to your face, slowly, like someone approaching a fragile flower. And with the back of his finger, he brushed the contour of your eye. Once. Then with his thumb.

You didn't move away.

You didn't even blink.

Just a curious smile on your lips.

— “What's wrong?”

— "Just... I like looking your eyes."

Shinyu felt like he was touching a constellation.

There were rituals. Secrets. Moments that you never noticed, but that he had engraved with fire.

Like when you'd fall asleep in the recording studio, and he'd pretend to fix things just to watch you sleep with your head on your arms. Those moments, when your eyes were closed, were painful. Because even though he loved the calm you conveyed, he was killed by the need to see you open them again.

Or that habit of yours of rubbing your eyes when you were tired. Shinyu bit his tongue every time you did it. He wanted to reach over, take your hands and say, "Let me do it. Let me take care of them for you. Don't hurt them, they are the most perfect thing I have."

He knew it was crazy.

He knew it was bordering on obsessive.

But he couldn't stop.

He had written lyrics in his head that he would never record. Poems that spoke of oceans hidden behind pupils, of nights that didn't need stars because you already had them in your eyes.

One day, while practicing a new choreography, you turned to him in the mirror. Your eyes searched for him again. Just for a second.

He lost his step.

He collided with Hanjin.

He apologized awkwardly.

But inside, he was smiling like an idiot.

Because even a second of your gaze directly was enough to keep him alive for days.

The cruelest thing of all was that you didn't know. You were innocent. Sweet. Blind to the obvious. You didn't see how each of the boys was in love with you in his own way, how each loved you with devotion.

But Shinyu...

Shinyu loved you with the kind of love that is written in the bones. That transcends the physical, the real. He didn't just love you.

He revered you.

And even if he never said it, even if his caresses were fleeting, discreet, even clumsy at times, each one hid a truth greater than all he had:

That the happiest, safest, most secure, most infinite place in the world...

Was right there.

At the edge of your pupil.

Where he could die, if it was with you.

Dohoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤKim Dohoon !

His favorite part: Your hands

It was curious.

Sometimes he wondered if the others noticed.

That slight change in his expression every time you moved your hand, stretched out your fingers, twirled a ring between them, adjusted your hair....

That microsecond when his entire world was reduced to your hands.

His favorite. His refuge. His weakness.

Dohoon didn't know when exactly it started. There wasn't a specific moment, a date he could remember, but he did remember the feeling. That first time your fingers accidentally brushed his as you passed him a bottle of water during a rehearsal. It was a fleeting touch. Innocent.

But it left an irreparable crack in him.

A crack through which a light so warm, so intense, that since then he could not see the world in the same way.

Your hands.

Small. Soft. Incredibly expressive.

You didn't need to speak for him to know how you felt. He just had to watch how you moved your fingers. If you were nervous, you pressed them against your skirt or hid them under your sleeves. If you were happy, you made little gestures as you spoke, as if each word was a butterfly that your hands threw into the air.

And if you were sad... well, that's when he most wanted to hold them in his.

To protect them.

To protect you.

There was something almost sacred about the way Dohoon looked at you when you were inattentive. While others were talking or joking, he would find excuses to stay close by, watching out of the corner of his eye as you inadvertently did your nails, as you fiddled with the edge of your phone, as you absentmindedly stroked the drawstring of your sweatshirt.

His heart was pounding in those moments.

Because your hands were the map of your soul.

And he had already lost himself in every curve, every knuckle, every tiny fold of your skin.

He remembers perfectly the first time he intertwined his fingers with yours.

It was a quiet night, in a waiting room, before going on stage for a small private showcase. You were nervous.

Your leg was shaking nonstop, and your hands were wringing in your lap. You didn't say anything. You never said anything when you were like this, as if you didn't want to worry anyone.

But he knew.

God, he felt it.

Dohoon sat next to you, pretending to look at his phone. Pretending to be distracted. But slowly, almost afraid of breaking something fragile, he slid his hand toward yours. He brushed it first, just a little. A gentle brush, almost like a question.

You didn't pull away.

You just glanced sideways at him, then looked down.

Then he did.

He intertwined his fingers with yours.

And there...

There it was as if all the noise disappeared.

There was no staff. There were no spotlights, no screams, no expectations.

There was only you.

Just your warm, small, trembling hand in his.

He felt it tremble at first. But then, little by little, your palm adjusted to his. You relaxed. Your fingers settled, soft, against his.

And Dohoon knew, in that instant, that he would never want to let go.

From then on, he began to look for them at every opportunity.

It was almost imperceptible. As you walked through the corridors of the company, sometimes he would brush your hand with his knuckles, as if playing. In the cars, if you were sitting together, his fingers would find yours on your thigh, slowly, as if the movement were casual. But it wasn't.

It never was.

On practice nights, when they were exhausted and you dropped to the floor with a long sigh, he would sometimes sit next to you and pretend to be looking at something on your phone. But his real intention was only one:

To touch your hand.

To hold a finger.

Play with the ring you wore.

Rubbing your fingernails with his thumb.

Stroke the back of your fingertip with his fingertip, as if he were reading a secret poem.

There was one night I remembered with special clarity.

A cold night, in the bedroom. Everyone was already asleep. But you and he were sharing a couch in the living room, watching a random dorama. Your eyes were heavy. The blanket covered you up to your chin. And your hands…

They were out.

Small, warm from the warmth of the fabric. Vulnerable.

Dohoon didn't even think about it.

He bent down, and covered them with his own.

His fingers were much larger.

He knew it.

Every time he compared them, something inside him clenched with gentleness. Because you were the complete opposite of him: delicate, ethereal, soft as the breeze.

And he wanted to be the storm that protected your calm.

He spent minutes just caressing your knuckles. One by one.

With reverence.

With a devotion he dared not confess to you.

Sometimes, when he felt insecure or anxious, like when the group was preparing for an important performance, or when you were away for a few hours with one of the other guys -Jihoon, for example, who had that laugh of yours etched in his palm- Dohoon would say nothing. He didn't protest. He didn't complain.

He just waited.

Until fate, or luck, put him near you again.

And then he would reach for your hand again.

He would hold it again.

And everything inside him would calm down.

Those moments were his silent drug.

Having your hands in his restored his sanity.

But also, it made him crazier.

Because you didn't know.

You didn't know that every time you caressed your own palm, he wished desperately that he could do it for you.

That every time you took off a ring to wash your hands, he would carefully pick it up, look at it, and return it as if it were a sacred object.

That when you painted your nails, he looked at each color as if it were art.

That when you, without thinking, took his arm in the middle of a crowd and intertwined your fingers as if it were natural, he had to try hard not to melt right there.

Dohoon lived in silence.

But in that silence, your hands were his language.

His faith.

His place.

And though you loved the others too - Shinyu, Youngjae, Hanjin, Jihoon, Kyungmin - though they shared your heart in that secret, chaotically beautiful relationship that no one else understood....

Your hands were his.

At least in his mind.

At least in the nights where he dreamed of taking them, kissing them....

And then he would wake up.

And you were there.

Sitting, laughing, brushing against him without knowing.

And he'd... reach for your hand again.

As if clinging to you was his only way to keep breathing.

Youngjaeㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤChoi Youngjae !

His favorite part: Your neck and collarbone.

The neck.

Your neck.

Youngjae thought about it more times a day than he dared admit.

More times than was considered normal.

More times than he would allow himself to say out loud.

There was something about the curve of your neck that completely disarmed him. It wasn't just physical attraction - although yes, that existed and overwhelmingly so - but something more primal, more emotional, more quietly addictive.

A form of tenderness that welled up in his chest just by looking at you and tilting his head.

A kind of devotion without language.

The kind of love that is breathed, not explained.

He had noticed it from the beginning.

Or maybe it was something his body knew before his mind did.

The first time was during a shoot for promotional content. You were wearing a bun tied carelessly around your neck, and part of your collarbone was peeking out of the neckline of the wardrobe.

You were sitting across from him, laughing at something Jihoon said, head cocked to the side, laughter escaping in soft waves.

And Youngjae felt the world, literally, unravel around him.

His gaze was pinned there, right in the hollow between your neck and shoulder, that small place, barely shaded by the light of the studio, where the skin looked soft even from afar.

He felt an irrational urge to move closer, to rest his forehead right there and be silent.

Breathing.

Listening to your heartbeat from inside.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

Not yet.

Thus began his secret.

Days passed. Then the weeks.

And your neck became his silent obsession.

Not in a vulgar way. Not ever. Not with Youngjae.

His way of loving was reverent, deep, almost religious.

For him, your neck was the place where calm lived.

Where the world became simple.

He watched you in moments no one noticed.

When you tied your hair in a quick ponytail, and a line of skin was uncovered from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. When you lay on the couch, reading something on your tablet, and your collarbone protruded slightly with each breath. When you laughed loudly, and your head would throw back for a second, revealing the full extent of your throat.

God. That gesture.

It knocked the wind out of him every time.

There were nights - many nights - when you all shared the dorm room as if you were a chaotic and perfectly messy little family. Some played video games. Others ate instant ramen.

And you, always you, sought your natural spot: the biggest couch, between Youngjae and Dohoon, with a blanket up to your waist.

Youngjae waited for those moments with almost desperate patience.

For it was there, in that warm, fuzzy corner of the routine, that he could approach you slowly, stealthily, and accomplish what he could not do in public:

Rest his forehead against your neck.

He would do it as if it were part of the game. Like he was tired, like he just needed support. Sometimes he'd say he was cold. Or that he was dizzy. You'd smile and just let him do it, as if you didn't know - as if you never imagined - what that meant to him.

But for Youngjae, every time his forehead touched your skin, it was like coming home.

Your scent, warm and familiar.

The slight pulse under your jaw.

The sound of your breathing, slow, oblivious to the chaos inside him.

His fingers, in those moments, would not stay still.

They played with the edge of your shirt.

They brushed your collarbone in slow circles.

They caressed like someone trying to memorize an invisible map.

And you...

You never moved away.

It killed him.

It saved him.

It drove him crazy.

Sometimes, in practice, you wore wide-collared shirts that slipped a little with sweat and movement. All you had to do was tilt your body a little to make that perfect line of your neck visible.

And Youngjae would lose step.

Always.

He pretended to tie his shoelaces. He pretended to be tired.

The reality was that he needed a second to control himself.

To remember that he couldn't touch you there, right then.

Not the way he wanted to.

Once upon a time.

A time that still haunts him at night.

A time he remembers with a knot in his stomach.

You were sad. You had locked yourself in a room in the studio. No one knew why. Only he noticed that your shoulders were more slumped, that your gaze was duller.

He knocked on the door, entered without permission, and found you on the floor, hugging your legs.

He didn't say anything. He didn't ask. He just sat down and drew you to his chest, silently.

You let yourself. You snuggled into him.

That's when he did it.

He slid his arm around your shoulders and rested his lips - not intending to kiss, but simply to touch - right in the crook of your neck.

Just for a second.

Then his forehead rested on your neck.

And he stayed there.

Minutes. Hours. He didn't know how long.

But in that space of time, he felt he could carry all your pain if you let him.

You didn't say anything.

But you didn't pull away either.

You just sighed, and settled your head against his.

And he knew that was his safe place.

Your neck.

Your collarbone.

Your space of silence where he could exist without speaking.

Youngjae had a mania.

One you didn't know about.

He had a secret folder on his phone.

Not of explicit or stolen photos. No.

Just pictures of you where your neck was accidentally showing.

Group selfies where you were laughing with your head bowed.

Practice videos where your shirt came down just a little.

Screenshots.

Little treasures he kept like heirlooms.

He wasn't possessive, at least not on the surface.

But inside, he wanted you in a deeply private way.

Not to show you off.

Not to presume you.

But to hold you close in the most intimate way possible:

the touch of your skin under his forehead. The slight tremble of your collarbone when you sighed.

The others loved you too.

Shinyu, Dohoon, Hanjin, they all loved you differently.

And you... you loved them back.

A secret relationship.

A shared chaos.

A multiple, but real love.

He didn't mind sharing your heart.

But what Youngjae would never give up, what he defended with every fiber of his soul, was his corner.

That little space between your neck and your shoulder.

That curve that only he knew by heart.

That piece of heaven where he could sink into and stop pretending he wasn't completely, irrevocably, hopelessly obsessed with you.

36 notes · View notes

cryptictongues · 1 year ago

Text

To Kiss is to Hunger

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 5.0K summary: You are terrified to kiss Joshua. Joshua has an idea to remedy that.

warnings: practice kissing, grinding, touching, intimacy, mutual pining, insecurities and self-doubt, just straight up romance

Author’s Notes: Ngl I know I said it would be a little frisky, but just so happens I made it just a little bit friskier because Joshua is just a touch starved man. Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

You couldn’t fathom why you are in the Shelves this late into the night. ‘It’s silly.” You think, walking around, trying to find anything to help you with your little dilemma. You tried to put your brain to rest, to calm its ravenous thoughts of anxiety, but the efforts were futile. And it is all because a teasing strawberry blond tried to kiss you.

You and the young Lord got quite close after his arrival to the Hideaway. You help out as a barmaid for Molly in the Ale House, and the first night of Joshua being out of the infirmary after the fall of Drake’s Tail had been all the talk. You would overhear conversations about how charming he was, how he was very knowledgeable about the lands of Valisthea, and how he is the brother of the leader of the Hideaway. He piqued your curiosity, as most newcomers do, but you didn’t think anything to come of it.

There was one night, however, where service wasn’t off its rig, and you had decided to take that time to practice your reading. Reading and writing are forbidden practices for Branded, and you were only able to learn reading due to old, scribbled writings thrown into the trash bins. You would rummage through for every written scrap in the dead of night and return it before your enslavers came to. To you, it was a piece to the puzzle of your freedom. But only a piece.

You were reading an old children’s fairytale: a prince in search of the long-lost princess who searched day and night to find her. You were immersed, so much so you hadn’t noticed the presence in front of you, seemingly still but present all the same.

“Ah, I read that story many times as a child. A true classic.”

Your head had snapped so far back you thought you would’ve fallen backwards. Your eyes jumped until they landed on the man before you, and you remember how wonderstruck you felt. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and the way he was looking at you had your stomach producing butterflies. You felt a sense of embarrassment, however, as the book you were reading was adapted for children. You knew those born with a silver spoon were highly educated, so to have someone as handsome and surely intelligent as he watching you read made you nervous to be a laughing stock.

“Yeah, but it’s more of a watered down version of it. I’m sure I’ll get to read the original someday.” You had awkwardly explained, waiting for him to make a joke of your lack of ability to read at a level that matched your maturity. That joke, however, never came. He stayed and asked you questions, such as who your favorite character was, what your favorite part of the story was, and so on. That conversation led beyond the book, and it is a fond memory of the golden boy.

It wasn’t long after that he offered to tutor you and made an extraordinary effort to give you books about topics you liked. Hell, he would even bring books back from long expeditions that him, Clive, and Jill would go on. “I found this story about sea fairies that I thought you would like.” “I saw a merchant selling a copy of this book I think you’ll enjoy.” “This book made me think of you.”

After many nights and days passing, it had become apparent that your heart had let him in, and you were relieved to know that his heart blazed for you also. However, unlike you, he is very evident about how he shows his feelings for you. He initiated the first hand holding, the first embrace, every tender moment you both have shared has been started by him. It makes you nervous, he makes you nervous, but in a conflicting way because you want everything he has to offer, yet your life of being treated less than for so long has put in the fear of not being enough. You fear you will misstep, embarrass yourself, he will realize he can have someone better, and let you down gently. He is a gentleman, after all.

All of the insecurities and doubts you hold have led you to the shelves due to this past evening's events.

A gathering of many members of the Hideaway was taking place, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging stories from the road, and eating and drinking so good that spirits were at an all time high. About halfway through the evening, Joshua and Clive had returned from their mission that had kept them away for well over a week, and joined everyone in the festivities. You could feel Joshua’s eyes on you constantly as you worked, soft gazes in your direction as you brought over more ale. You hadn’t seen each other since he had left, and you could see from the look in his eyes that he wanted you close, longing for your time.

And you weren’t the only one to sense it.

“Go on.” You heard Molly speak as you polished the cups.

“Hmmm?” You turned to see her smirking at you, nudging her head in the direction of the young Rosfield.

“You are free of your duties. You spend some time with everyone, especially you know who.”

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed. “I appreciate it, but Molly there is a lot to clean up. I can’t ask you to do this all by yourself.”

“Nonsense.” She scoffed, walking to you, taking the scrub and cup out of your hands, only to set them aside to grab your own. “We all deserve a little down time. Please, I insist.”

You hesitated, and her eyes softened. “In these troubling times, every moment counts; for anything can happen at any time. We must be selfish with our time.”

That alone had set you into motion. You had walked over to sit beside him, hip to hip, his arm draped around your side with his head leaning slightly against your own as Clive shared his and his brother’s adventures.

You could tell Joshua was more touchy than normal, not that you minded. You would feel him squeeze you from time to time. If you shifted slightly, he would adjust so you were still close to him. You would feel him turn his head to bury his face into your hair, gentle caresses of his lips against your scalp. No words were spoken between the two of you, just enjoying the night together with everyone. But even nights like these had to end.

You called it a night, telling everyone that you were going to head to the bed chambers, but not before Joshua insisted on walking you there. The two of you had bid goodnight to the others, and with your hand in Joshua’s grasp, the two of you walked to the bed chambers, small talk between the two of you as you both headed there slowly.

“I can’t believe you let Clive do that.” You giggled, Joshua’s story about his older brother shoving a carrot into his mouth to make him sick.

“He had reason, for we were in an unfortunate situation. We needed a reason to slip away.” Joshua grimaced, vaguely remembering the taste of the raw carrot. “Besides, I have always had a soft spot for my brother. I’d do anything for him.”

“I know having him back in your life has been a gift.” You smiled, waving his arm back and forth as you both approached the bed chambers. He pulled your arm back gently, causing you to turn into his arms. The way he was looking at you left you speechless; a thousand words being spoken through one look.

“Why yes, it has truly been a gift by the Founder to be reunited with my brother.” He brings your hand up to his chest, right above his heart; the thumping gingerly warming up your palm. “It has also been a gift to have the honor of being allowed your time, my lady.”

You shook your head, but before you could’ve said anything, Joshua had spoken once more. “On the topic of gifts, I have something for you.”

He slipped his free hand into the large pouch of his belt and pulled out what you can see is a book. He placed the book in both of your hands, grazing them before allowing you to inspect it. You recognized the artistry of the book: hardbound leather, intricate gold lining, and a sturdy weight in your hand. You looked at the title and you found yourself releasing a shaky breath.

“I thought you said there were no more copies.” You whispered, in disbelief as to what you were seeing. Enchanting thy Fair Maiden. It was a copy of a book Joshua has praised over. He would recite lines to you from what he memorized as a child, and you would ask him to retell them to you over and over again, never tiring from hearing his smooth voice telling you a tale.

“It took some bartering, but it was worth it if it means I could grant you a copy.”

Snapping from your mind, you looked to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Joshua, I can’t accept this. This is one of your favorite stories. You should keep it.”

You tried pushing the book back into Joshua’s, but not before him grasping both of your hands and gently pushing it back into your vicinity. “My lady.” He begged. “I can reassure you that nothing would please me more than you accepting this gift.”

You stayed silent for a moment, a brief pause in the timeline aside from you and him, before smiling shyly, looking away from him in a flush. “I will cherish this for all days, Joshua. Maybe you can read it to me properly sometime.”

“Anything for you, dearest.”

Your gaze stayed down, not knowing how to bid farewell for the night, before you felt Joshua’s hand lightly touch your cheek, lifting your face for him to look upon. You sensed a certain hesitancy, his eyes seeking for something on your face before landing back on your own.

“May I try something?”

Everything started to go slow and fast at the same time, your mind racing and hyper focusing on every detail. You focused on how much closer Joshua had gotten to you, how his body heat had your body melting tenfold, how his face leaned down to yours, his hand stroking your cheek. You realized what he was asking to do: he was asking to kiss you.

Sudden flashes of self-doubt came crashing down onto you, Joshua’s hand on your branded cheek making you feel self-conscious. What is he doing? How can he want to kiss me? Oh, Greagor be with me, I have never kissed anyone. I am going to make a fool of myself!

Out of reflex and fear, you stepped back and away from Joshua’s reach. He looked startled, not expecting your reaction, and all you could do was stare at him as you calmed your heart down. You felt embarrassment shudder down your spine, but you knew that it would have been worse if you had attempted to kiss him.

You tried to shrug it off, chuckling awkwardly as if that would erase the last few seconds of shame you felt. “It is late. I’m afraid I must turn in. Goodnight, Joshua.”

You flung the chamber door open and closed it just as fast without a glance in Joshua’s direction, your back hitting the wood as you worked your anxieties down.

Now you’ve really done it stupid stupid STUPID!

So here you are, looking for a kissing manual that doesn’t exist.

“I can’t believe it has come to this.” You moan, shaking your head at how pathetic you currently feel. You want to kiss him; of course you want to kiss him! But the thought of kissing him and making a complete fool out of yourself has strung itself high in your head. You will do anything to ease your anxieties, and if finding literature that will help you is the way, then so be it.

You keep searching the shelves, and finally you see something that catches your attention. You see a book with a deep red spine, and immediately you become curious. Red means romance which maybe means kissing, right? you think and go to reach for it, your tippy toes giving you an extra inch that helps you grab the old spine of the book. Once the book is grasped, you give it a once over and what you see is nothing at all. The book has no title, no author, no nothing. Just hardbound leather that looks as if it had been dyed with blood.

You move to sit at a table, the kissing debacle hiding in the back of your skull as a new curiosity peeks. You stare at the book intently, like it was going to open up for you to tell you all of its secrets. A book with no visible identity, no mark.

The curiosity killed the cat as you finally flipped it open, the crackle of the pages singing, showing its age. The first few pages are barren with no offering until you reach the first official page. You read, smiling because you can read everything on the page in comprehension, but also because it’s a love poem. You never have had the chance to read poetry thus far, so this was a treat for you. Just the thing I need to ease my mind.

You continue reading the poems, most being about love, companionship, and things in the realm of romance. As you read them, you picture Joshua and yourself, like the two of you were living in the reality of this book full of lovely prose. In a way, it makes you recognize that maybe what Joshua sees in you is what you are imagining right now: a lover, a partner for life. You feel a sense of confidence swell in you, so you read on, addicted to the words written out.

Until you get to the next page.

What you read next halts your breathing, slowing it down to stop fire from growing in your chest. This poem is about the same things previously stated, love, romance, companionship, but in a much more intimate form. The words strung together formed the most erotic sentences, words of longing for the senses. They make you blush hotly; they make you antsy in your chair while locked in, but most especially they make your mind run wild with fantasies of you and him.

Oh, you and him.

You mind wanders as you read, zoning out into a reality where you exude the confidence to give into Joshua’s desires and more. The words dig into your skin, warming you up that your thin nightgown felt like plenty of layers on this cool night. You are so immersed that you don’t hear the large doors open, and the calling of your name feels like a figment of your imagination. It’s not until you feel the warmth on your shoulders that you are brought back, feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dropped over your head from the cold sweat.

You slam the book shut, turning so quickly that the room starts to spin before the warmth on your shoulders grows firm, steadying you in your seat. You look to see Joshua staring at you, worry showing on his face seemingly from your reaction. “I deeply apologize, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You breathe a chuckle, seeing him here at a time like this would be your luck. You cross your arms, becoming extremely aware of your lack of clothing under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He retorts and pulls out a chair to sit facing you. “Truthfully, I couldn’t sleep much. I came here to see if doing more research would tire me, but it seems fate has chosen a more direct route to my restlessness.”

You see why he can’t sleep, and sigh because this is from your doing. “Joshua, you have nothing to fret over. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I’m afraid you are wrong, my lady. I shouldn’t have been so forward, and to know I put you in an uncomfortable position upsets me greatly. I would never dream of making you uneasy, and for my mishaps I must apologize to you. I cannot bear the thought of you keeping your distance because of my foolishness.”

You watch him as he apologizes for his directness, which internally makes you laugh because that isn’t the issue. You love his directness, just as he is being direct with you right now. It’s you. It’s your cowardice for wanting something more and not having the courage to pursue because of the what ifs, the buts, the howevers. It’s your fear of rejection because of your lived experiences. It’s you, not him.

“Joshua.” You state, moving to grab his hands within your own. “You did nothing wrong.”

“My lady, please I-”

“Shhh,” you hush. “Let me speak.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and I apologize for making you feel you need to.” You exhale, preparing to open yourself up for display. “It’s all me. I’m inexperienced, and I’ve been viewed as nothing for so long that I’m fearful that one misstep will set you away; that you can have someone who knows what they are doing and have the confidence to show for it.”

“Is that really what this is about?” Joshua asks.

You nod, looking down at the two of your intertwined hands. You see Joshua’s hands pull away from yours and your breath shakes. This is it. He is going to leave. That’s until you feel the heat that only the Phoenix could exude on your cheeks, your head being brought up to see him smiling. “My dearest,” Joshua whispers, as if talking any louder would damn him. “You are my everything, for you have captured me: mind, body, and soul. Also, your inexperience mirrors mine, I can assure you.”

Your eyes widen. “There is no way that can be true. You are a Lord.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head as his hands go back to you, grasping them with care. “I was only a child then. Besides, the Undying were very protective of me under their care. There was no time nor place for such things. Even then, the only person that was always allowed in my vicinity was Jote, and we have never viewed each other romantically.”

“So, there really has been no one?” You whisper, your mind stuck between disbelief and credence.

“No. Not until now.” He squeezes your hands. “My heart belongs to you, and you alone. There is no one else I’d rather give myself to.”

You shiver, the idea of experiencing forms of intimacy together for the first time spreads a raging fire in your stomach. “You sure have a way with words, Joshua Rosfield.”

“You can thank all of the romance novels I read in my youth.” He chuckles. “Speaking of books, what were you reading?”

“What?” You ask, forgetting about the erotica sitting inches away from you.

“The book you were reading. I don’t believe I have read that one yet. May I take a look?”

You are panicking, knowing the contents of the book and who is asking to take a peek. You go to grab it, reacting as fast as you could, but alas you reacted too late. Joshua now has the book, opening the page you had left off on, and starts to read. You see his eyes go wide, his pupils dilating, his fingers fidgeting against the page he is holding. You freak out, going to reach for the book before he reads further. “Okay Joshua, that’s enough.” A smile creeps up slowly on his face, humming as he moves to stand up before your fingertips touch the book, backing away slowly as he continues. You stand up, walking up to him to get that god forsaken book away from him.

“Oh Joshua, please give me back the book!” You panic.

“By the Founder, what possessed you to read this smut?” Joshua smirks, seamlessly avoiding your grabby hands as he reads the pages. “Especially in the middle of the night?”

He wasn’t meant to see this! He wasn’t meant to see you reading the abhorrent words you were consuming. He wasn’t meant to see you like this in your flimsy gown. Damn me! Why did I not cover up more?!

“To taste the lips is to be fulfilled, for the instinct of man is to claim, conquer, and revel in the midst of her flesh. To kiss is to hunger, to feast among the softest of petals that call to him, beckoning for his return to get both of their fills.”

You are internally screaming now. You can’t believe he is tormenting you like this. You are still reaching for the book, desperate for this nightmare to end, before you hear an “oomph” as Joshua’s back collides into one of the shelves. You snatch the book from him, running back to put it back where it came from. “Okay, enough please!”

“Forgive me.” Joshua says, although it is said with a devilish grin. “I just didn’t know you had such… exquisite taste.”

“I didn’t even know what was in the book when I pulled it.” You say defensively, hands waving manically in front of you like they would make you more convincing. “I was just trying to find something that would help give me the courage.”

As if that isn’t as embarrassing, or even more so.

“What if we do something that helps us both gain courage? A practice session if you will.” Joshua says from the other side of the room, keeping his distance to see what tone you will take.

“What do you have in mind?” You draw out nervously, twiddling your thumbs in anticipation.

Joshua walks back over to where you both had sat, moving the chair so it was facing you before sitting down. He rubs his thighs a little as if he needed to warm them up, before patting his lap. “Come take a seat.”

Instinct has you taking a step forward before a hitch finds itself in your feet, stopping them all together.

“Do you trust me?” He asks sincerely.

“Of course, I do.” You quickly blurt out, as if answering a second later would draw doubt.

He smiles, his hand reaching out to invite you over. “Then please, my dearest, come to me.”

You take a deep breath and walk over till you stand before him. You grasp his hand, tingles running up your arm as he pulls you to him and guides you onto his lap. Your hands move to steady yourself on his shoulders, while he places his hands on your lower back to support you. Your legs dangle on either side of the chair, your gown riding up your thighs which you are all too aware of. However, you note that Joshua is only looking at you, gauging to see where your head is. “Is this okay, my lady?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, trying to calm your rapid heart. This is so intimate, too intimate, but you want it. You want him. You want to create every kind of intimacy with him, and this is a start. You knew that it is time to take that leap, especially since he will take that leap with you.

“Joshua,” you murmur, eyes still on his. “Will you kiss me?”

“As you wish, my love.”

You close your eyes, leaning in slightly to show that you aren’t backing out. You feel one of Joshua’s hands move to your left cheek, your branded cheek, tracing it with his thumb gently. Soon you feel him move forward, his forehead sitting against yours, his breath hitting your lips in puffs. The anticipation was killing you, your hands squeezing his shoulders to urge him on, and before you know it his lips are against your own. The kiss is light, a sweet peck before pulling away slightly, only to go back to give one more. You both are testing the waters, giving into each other slowly until the two of you start to grow peckish.

The kiss is gradual, pecks graduating to long lip locks and more movement. Your hands have found homage in Joshua’s hair, gripping not too hard but enough to show him how much you are enjoying him. His hands found their way to the crease of your hips, gripping the flesh to keep you in place. You can feel yourself growing restless, needing more of him within your senses.

It’s like he can read your mind as his hands bring your body closer. A gasp leaves your lips as his groin settles against your heat, leaving your head spinning. His kisses become feverish, his hands roaming up and down your thighs, your nightgown receding higher in the process. You sense satiability is nowhere in sight, the movements of his body proving to you that the absence of intimate touch has turned him into a depraved man. Because even though Joshua Rosfield is a gentleman with a heart of selflessness, he is still a man with selfish desires and needs.

Your hands go back to grip at his shoulders, trying to calm yourself from his ministrations. A wetness hits your lips, and your mouth opens willingly, needing to taste him further. Your tongues melt together, creating a unique taste between the two of you that’s so addicting you don’t know how either of you will stop. You lean more into him, your hands going back to his hair to control his movements, causing him to groan in the most sinful way. You pull away, giggling knowing you got him to make such pretty sounds. The confidence from it goes straight to your head, going right back in for his lips to have him make more delicious sounds.

A deep feral groan is released from Joshua’s throat, causing him to pull away in heavy breaths. He looks at you with hazy eyes, smiling deliriously. “You will be the death of me, my love.”

Your hands are now trailing from his hair to his chest, your hands running up and down the fabric of his tunic, feeling the toned body beneath it all. Your head leans back against his forehead, both of your breaths heavy on each other’s lips. “Then shall death keep us together, never parted.”

Joshua leans up back to your lips, kissing you hungrily, your declaration causing him to hunger for more. You still had the high ground, you being on top giving you more opportunity to take the lead. You knew this could be too soon, a little risky, but your sureness that Joshua feels the same hunger as you do is enough to convince you. You start to grind down slowly on top of him, your undergarments and his matching tunic pants the only barriers.

“Fuck,” Joshua draws out breathless, his arms coming up to wrap around you to ground himself.

“Does that feel good, my Lord?” You smile, feeling over the moon that you are making him act this way.

“You have no idea.” Joshua gasps. “You have turned me into a new man.”

You giggle as you continue your movements. “Is that so?”

“By the Founder, yes!” He groans loudly at a particular movement of your hips. “How about I show you.”

Suddenly you are being lifted up, your butt settled onto a hard surface, legs spread apart by Joshua’s hips, and warm lips ravishing your own. Your nightgown is definitely way past your legs now, bunched up at your hips with Joshua’s hands right under the fabric. This new side of Joshua has you addicted, the push and pull the both of you are playing at exciting you more. You release his lips and lean up to his neck, nipping at the skin at the juncture of his neck and jaw. His breath hitches, leaning into you as you nip and kiss his neck. It’s as if he is hypnotized by your love bites, casting a spell on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you, but in an instant everything stops.

You open your eyes to see Joshua breathing hard, his hands gripping the table. Your hands go to his face, worry etching into your brain. “Darling, did I do something wrong?”

Joshua laughs, his eyes opening to look right back at you. “Absolutely not.” His hands go to yours on his face, holding onto each one as he brings them down. “I just don’t want to accomplish everything in one night, especially here in the Shelves.”

He pulls you up to your feet, your hands still in his as he looks at you with the brightest smile on his face. “I want to have time to savor you when the time is right.”

Even after all of that, he is still ever the gentleman.

“I agree. I’m sorry if I went too far.” You chuckle, a tinge of embarrassment in your tone.

Joshua embraces you, his head tucked into your neck. “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope you don’t think I had ulterior motives.”

“Never,” you say quickly, squeezing him to you.

“We should head back to our respective beds before people notice we’ve disappeared.” Joshua hums.

You hum in agreement and pull back, so you are now under Joshua’s arm. Both of you head out the doors of the Shelves into the cool night air. You shiver, and Joshua brings you in closer to shield you from the cold. He walks you back to the bed chambers, and before he departs, he places a light kiss on your lips, causing your eyes to flutter close at the bliss you feel in the moment.

“Goodnight, my dearest. I shall see you in the morning.” Joshua says after he pulls away.

“Goodnight, Joshua. But before you go, may I request something?”

“Anything for you, my dearest.”

“Can we practice some more later? You are my tutor after all.” And my lover, my partner for life.

Joshua beams at you. “I would love nothing more.”

#joshua rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield fluff #joshua rosfield smut #ffxvi x reader #ffxvi #joshua rosfield #joshua x reader #my fics #final fantasy xvi

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leeknot · 6 months ago

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Pairing : Felix × Little!reader

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff ><

ᯓᡣ𐭩

The soft hum of Felix’s voice drifted through the living room as he unpacked the shopping bags. He’d stopped by your favorite store on his way home, picking up snacks and a surprise gift he knew you’d love.

“Bub, I’m home!” he called, setting the bags on the counter.

You peeked out from the blanket fort you’d built in the corner, your plushie tucked under your arm. Felix’s voice always made you feel warm, like the sun peeking through clouds on a gloomy day.

“Lixie!” you chirped, crawling out from your hideaway and running toward him.

He turned just in time to catch you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Hi, my sunshine,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Did you have fun while I was out?”

You nodded eagerly. “I made a fort! And... and I colored a picture of us!” You pulled back to look at him, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Felix’s heart melted. “Did you? Can I see it?”

You tugged him toward the coffee table, where your masterpiece was proudly displayed. It was a crayon drawing of you and Felix holding hands, surrounded by flowers and a bright yellow sun.

“It’s beautiful, bub,” he said sincerely, crouching to meet your gaze. “You’re such a talented artist.”

Your cheeks flushed with pride. “Really?”

“Really,” Felix assured you, ruffling your hair gently. “But I think this needs a special spot on the fridge, don’t you?”

You nodded, bouncing on your toes.

He carried the drawing to the kitchen and pinned it to the fridge with a magnet. “Perfect,” he said, stepping back to admire it.

You tugged on his sleeve. “What’s in the bags?”

Felix grinned, crouching to your level again. “Hmm, do you think you can guess?”

You tilted your head, thinking hard. “Snacks?”

“Yep!” He pulled out a box of your favorite cookies. “But there’s one more thing.”

Your eyes widened as he reached into the bag and pulled out a plushie—a soft, cuddly bunny with floppy ears.

“For me?” you gasped, reaching out to take it.

“For you,” Felix said, his smile widening. “I thought it could keep you company when I’m not here.”

You hugged the bunny tightly, burying your face in its fur. “Thank you, Lixie.”

Felix chuckled, pulling you into another hug. “Anything for my little sunshine.”

Later, you snuggled up in the blanket fort together, the bunny tucked between you. Felix read your favorite storybook, his soothing voice lulling you into a peaceful state.

As your eyes grew heavy, you whispered, “Love you, Lixie.”

Felix pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Love you too, bub. Always.”

And as you drifted off, safe in his arms, you knew there was no place you’d rather be.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

#leeknot #× reader #skz × reader #stray kids × reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #felix × reader #felix imagines #felix fluff #tooth rotting fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz felix #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #felix oneshot

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bewarethewolfarmy · 2 years ago

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Music To Bring Us Together

(This one was on my mind for a while (yes a certain fic of mine has a twin of sorts to this...) sooo yeah it just took a while to write it actually up.

If anyone wants a steamy followup to this particular chapter then say so and maybe i'll gather my spoons Oh and I've decided to call this kind of series The Phantom and his Songbird so enjoy:

A Celebration for Two

Things Better Left Unshared )

If asked separately both Erik's and your answer to what your favorite time of the week was, it would be the same: it was when you had the chance to get away from everything at the opera and had time to go spend the night with the lonely ghost that lived below the operahouse. He lived for those times, unable to stand the fact that he still could not simply always be with his beloved, to hold and shower you in affection and attention constantly, but he had even in small bits learned his lesson from before and he would not dare do anything that could even possibly make him lose you. He would wait, impatiently, and watch and admire you from afar despite wanting to do so far more personally, and when the time came he'd appear and whisk you away and the smile you'd wear on your face would send his heart a flutter to think that there really was someone who enjoyed his company and didn't fear his face. Could he truly believe it? Of course not, he still expected some trick, some lie or deceit of how this was not real, could not be real, and that you truly did fear and hate him for all he was, had done and could be. The gentleness of your tone and kiss to try and reassure him calmed the voices within for a time but never enough; he needed you by his side always and how you wished you could be but you did love the Opera Populaire for what it was and could be, almost as much as you loved it's resident Phantom.

Today was one such day; a break in rehearsals and you slipped away to that small side room, knowing that any second the secret passage would open and Erik would appear. You could always go down yourself, how many times had you walked it to the being able to do so in your sleep if necessary, but you knew how much the man loved to be able to whisk you away and who were you to ruin that for him? The Phantom, still spoken of in terrified whispers and hunted by those who knew and remembered, had so few joys as far as you could tell, things that truly could bring him happiness and peace in his admittedly lonely existence; to take this one away was far too cruel to you and thus you would not. Part of you wished instead that you could do more.

You had only been waiting for a fraction of time when there came the familiar sound of the hidden doorway opening and familiar touch upon your hand. Some days he grabbed you so fast and hard you could practically taste his desperation and need for closeness but this was not one of those days. His touch was light, almost hesitant, and you knew exactly what to do: you smiled and moved your hand to entwine your fingers in his, your tone soft and happy as you spoke, “Erik.”

“Songbird,” he responded and you were pulled close into a tight hug; you were surrounded by the scent of roses and old paper, ivory and water and wood.

And yarn; you could feel a familiar scarf against your face and could not help but smile brighter. Since you'd given it to him for your shared birthday he become stuck between wanting to constantly wear it and treating it like some precious treasure bestowed upon him by a god. Which you supposed made some sense considering his feelings about you. You of course were happiest seeing him wear it, able to see him enjoying your little present and know you had done well in making it for him. It added a little color to his darkness, a light for the man sometimes lost to the shadows but a man who nevertheless you loved dearly.

“Shall we go down to the lair now?” As much as you loved being in his arms, and you truly did, the secrecy of his hideaway under the operahouse gave you both the space and ability to do more than this small room ever could.

The fact you would ask brought a shiver of delight to him and a smile to those ruined lips of his. It was like a puppy being offered a walk in the park by it's master, an apt enough comparison considering how he reacted to you. Luckily you liked that in him, the excitement he seemed to get from the acceptance you gave and the lack of fear you had for him.

He moved with the swiftness and ease of exactly what he was and the two of you were soon off, practically gliding over steps to go down, down, down deep below, into catacombs, into an abyss lit only by candlelight, past traps that were sent not to harm you but to prevent any from following, to an all too familiar lake. You settled into your seat upon the boat and watched him, unable to resist a smile at how he looked as he rowed you both across.

Once, near the beginning of this love you had found yourself in, you had offered to help only to see the strangest look of shock to cross his face. He had refused so verehemently you at first had been hurt before it had come out that rather he couldn't imagine making you do such a thing, that it was in his mind only right he do so for you and that you need only relax. The fact you had been hurt by his refusal even for a second had left him devestated in such a way that required quite a bit of cuddling and hair stroking and reassurance. It was one of those things you found both funny and adorable about Erik: he, the Phantom, terror of the Opera Populaire, murderer and genius, could be so full of confidence and self-importance yet so easily fall to the deeps of despair and terror with the simplicity of love. The complexity of his character was fascinating and endearing, making you unable to tear your eyes away at times when the layers started to show.

The trip across was like that, full of you watching him, adoring his figure as again he looked more the imposing Phantom than the lovesick puppy, though every time he caught you staring with your adoring gaze, his face turned red behind his mask and you only continued to smile knowing it. His eyes would widen, it was hard to miss as someone who so often looked at him, watched him. He brought you to shore without a word though you were sure his mind had a thousand and one things he wished to say to you, sing to you, beg of you.

Erik stepped out first and like the gentleman he really was he offered his hand to help you step out of the boat. This too was something you could do on your own, as easily remembered as every other step of this trip, and again it was something you would never try to take from your phantom. You placed your hand in his and saw him smile so brightly and happily; you stepped off the boat and into his arms once more. Any chance he had he seemed to take in hugging you, holding you, as if afraid that if he didn't keep doing it you might prove to be an illusion, a dream he conjured up from nothing to replace the dark and painful memories of his love for Christine Daae. You of course were indeed real and warm and loved him even knowing what had happened, what he had done. Because behind the rumors and stories and fears, you had found a man who was desperate for love yet never knew how quite to get it or give it healthily.

After he seemed convinced for the moment that you did care and would be going nowhere, Erik led you into the house proper and you sat in the sitting room, watching as he went back to being the adorable Erik that you knew and adored. His fluttering around, muttering about how best to please you, what he would do for you, what kind of food he should make, what kind of music he should play. Part of you was half tempted to tell him to just sit down with you so you could cuddle for a while; he always seemed to like that as did you, though if it went on for too long he would start to cry and weep about how he was not worthy of such softness, of how he was a monster and you were a sweet songbird, that he was something even his own mother could not love so how could you? You did not mind reassuring him of course, it was normal enough for you both at this point and being able to give your sweet traumatized Erik some love and reassurance was something you were happy to be able to do. But tonight, tonight you wished for something different.

You smiled as he made another pass across your path and you spoke up, making sure to be heard, “Erik, I do have a request.”

This immediately stopped him in his tracks and he turned to you, wide eyed, before falling to his knees before you. Requests from you were rather rare; you did not often ask much of him, because he always had hundreds of ideas and plans, because you knew he liked having some control in his life and this was an easy one, because you did not like to impose or possibly trouble him. But he jumped at any request you did make and fumbled to take your hands in his, staring right into your soul it seemed.

“Your Erik is listening, anything my songbird wants, I will give you; just ask and it will be done.” He didn't slip entirely into third person which was a good thing in your book; his emotions sometimes got so overwhelming he couldn't help it and you didn't mind but you didn't want to overwhelm him today.

You squeezed his hands with another smile. “I wish for you to teach me to play something”

He seemed taken aback, blinking a few times and staring at you in confusion. But of course, you were a songbird, a singer, and that was all you truly really ever asked to be; you liked to be part of the choir, to let the music fill your lungs and fill the air. You'd never before expressed an interest in learning more than that but you had listened to him play so many instruments, he loved to show off to you like a peacock shows off it's feathers to a potential mate, and you found yourself curious to try. No, you were more curious to be able to try to play alongside him one day; you may never reach the level of a natural talent like his but you wanted to at least try.

“You...you wish to learn an instrument?” He asked his words slow and measured.

You nodded and he let go of you so quick you felt you might get whiplash. Especially as he quickly ran from the room like his cloak was on fire. The speed with which he moved, grabbing case after case from another room and placing them all on the coffee table before you was honestly both a bit shocking and very amusing. You had a pile of them soon enough, of slightly different sizes and shapes, but you recognized them all as instrument cases; you tried not to giggle or laugh as he continued this until you had so many to choose from it was a bit silly. And finally he stood still, breathing hard and looking at you expectedly, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement and energy.

“Which would you like, songbird? Your Erik can you teach any instrument, Erik is very good at all of them, Erik is a master of them and Erik would love to be able to teach you, just please tell Erik which you want please please please?” Oh no now he was completely into third person.

You stood up and gently took his face in his hands, careful not to upset his mask since it would help him ground a bit better. “Breathe, my angel, please. I already know which instrument I want to play but if you're going to teach me then I need you to breathe and not panic so, alright?”

He whimpered, a good whimper, maybe too good of one; he shuffled on his feet and closed his eyes at your touch before nodding. You would take it and smiled before kissing him lightly upon the lips. It was hard to resist such a good boy.

“Which...which one does...do you want Er...me to teach you?” he asked, trying his hardest to pull himself together, you could see it; he bit his lip and looked at you with such expectation and love it made your heart flutter. How could one man be so precious and so adorable and so dangerous all at once?

You smiled again and pulled away from him, the whine he gave was not a happy one but he did not hold you back; you leaned down to the table and gently pulled from it one case in particular, opening it to reveal a beautifully crafted violin. His eyes widened at your choice and you did not need to ask to know why; you had heard all the stories, all the legends. Knew that Christine Daae's father was a known violinist, that Erik had once used that knowledge and that violin to try to entrance her in the graveyard after the disasters before. And thus there was a shadow that clung to it, so much so that while you knew he had it, you had never heard him play it; you supposed it held too much of a memory of his failures, of his darker side, that he had been too afraid.

You were not though. Gently, reverently, you removed the instrument from it's casing and took up the bow with one hand. It felt cold in your hands and heavier than you expected but you refused to back down now from your choice. You turned your gaze back to him, still smiling, still hopeful as you spoke, “I wish you to teach me this one, Erik.”

“I...” he seemed to be in some shock but at least he stayed in first person; he opened his mouth only to shut it again, emotions running across his face at incredible speeds.

He cleared his throat, tried to collect himself, and attempted to speak again, “Are you sure? There are better ones I can teach you.”

You both knew that was a lie. Few were as beautiful as a violin when played right; only the piano and organ were more precious and close to his soul as that violin. But memories were a terrible thing and there were things Erik still never did that you suspected were from that terrible, terrible experience.

You were resilent though and stubborn, shaking your head. “I really wish to learn the violin, please Erik? I couldn't imagine learning from anyone else, for who else could possibly be as good as you are at playing it. And I have heard such beautiful things when a violin and piano play together by those whose skill are no doubt less than your own and so surely with your instruction...” You were not playing fair with him. He could be fluttery and excitable and oh so absolutely adorable and lovable with you but you knew there was a pride there and a part of him that did wish so terribly to be able to teach you. And here you were, tantalizing him on both regards, drawing on those parts of him in hopes of getting what you wanted. You could see in his expression the fight between doing so, allowing his pride to win out or his fear.

“But,” he said in a voice no louder than a whisper, a fearful small thing and you were reminded how sensitive your phantom truly could be.

It hurt you and you lowered the instrument, approaching him. “Oh Erik, sweet angel, I truly wish to learn but I don't wish to cause you actual distress, I promise.”

He looked up at you and your eyes met; you smiled gently at him, lovingly, and he bit a ruined lip. You wanted this, you truly did and you wanted it to be the violin but if it really was so hard on him to teach you, if pushing it would only hurt him more, you supposed you would need to let it be. Because it wasn't worth harming the man you loved so much.

Finally a sigh left him and he shook his head. “No, my wonderful songbird, I...I will teach you. Your Erik will do anything my songbird wishes of me.”

A smile formed on his face and you felt your heart swell with how cute it made him. Any expression of happiness was always a good one to you and you nodded, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, mon ange.”

Erik's heart fluttered at the kiss and his smile grew before he cleared his throat again. “Now let's see about your stance.”

You did not expect so much touching yet one he took a deep breath to compose himself his hands moved along your body, adjusting it, moving your arm, your head, the instrument so that it was cradled just right, that your fingers were in the right positions. Your skin heated up as he placed his hands on your waist and commanded, not asked, you to play. “A few notes, just to start.”

You did as instructed and only got in a few before he clicked his tongue and stopped you, readjusting you slightly. “No no no, relax, let the music fill you like when you sing. But instead you make the violin sing for you; caress it, feel it, the bow is an extension of your body, not simply a tool. Now again.”

Again you tried and felt his hands on you. They were warm, even through your dress, and your heart pounded hearing his breathing in your ear. You knew you were far from perfect, this being your first time, but it was better than you expected, because he had made sure of it. But it was strange to you; learning was something you had asked for, wanted, and you knew he could be passionate about teaching, something you always had been able to gently dissauage in him when it came to your singing. But perhaps the closeness, the actual physical contact, made this feel all the different, and you couldn't help but think as well how warm his breath was and strong his grip and how you wished to obey that smooth, alluring, commanding voice. So different than your Erik, your sweet and often self conscious angel, your excitable and loveable man, who slipped into third person at the smallest embarrassment or flustering, who smiled so geniunely and clung and loved with such intensity but not like this. His intensity was normally of desperation and love; this was passion of a different nature and it made heat build up within your heart like a fire you were not sure you wished to have extinguished. It felt both wonderous and a bit strange.

He nodded behind you, making pleased noises that only made it worse inside you. “Good good, much better. Though you still are far too tense.”

He placed a hand over yours holding the bow and closed his eyes. “You know how it feels to become one with the music, I know you do, songbird, just translate that to this.”

You certainly tried. You tried to take a deep breath, to forget he was there, that he was touching you, that he was so close. To focus on the notes, the violin, the music; get a feel for each note, what it was like, what it felt like, which was which and how they sounded together and in sequence. But Erik was a horrible distraction and you could not focus with his hands on you.

“Erik,” you muttered and this seemed to be to no avail; perhaps he was too far into his own mind, the Angel of Music he once was creeping out and overtaking.

“Focus, my songbird.” His voice was so exact, how could you possibly disobey?

“Erik,” you repeated and felt your heart ready to pound out of your chest.

“Give into the music.” His grip tightened both over your hand and at your side and you had to work very hard not to shake and play incorrectly. Even with all this you did not want to do that.

He was not listening and you were not sure you could take much more of this. But you being the smart songbird you were, knew of one thing that your angel could never resist no matter what happened, a thing that was guaranteed to break him of anything and return him to his sweet blubbering self.

It took all of your strength to pull it off, gripped as you were by his strong callused hands, but you managed by some miracle to turn enough to press your lips to his. Erik's eyes widened behind his mask and you knew that his whole face was turning red, could feel his hands lighten their grip, his body start to stiffen as it often did when you kissed him only to relax again. And move to grab your arms and pull you ever closer; Erik was a master of music but he was a slave to your love and desperate as always for every bit of it he could get. To be kissed by you was something he seemed always to want more and normally you delighted in giving it to him, everything you could. All the love you could muster for this sweet broken man. But the fire inside you was still burning and the aching that grew from the way he had spoken, the power of the Angel of Music, and there was plenty of desperation of your own as you leaned into the kiss, into him, only to have to break away for the all too human need of air. You both panted and you could see how blown out his pupils seemed to be as he looked at you.

“Songbird,” he said in a low voice.

“No fair,” you muttered in response and bit your lip, “All too unfair.” How did this man, this phantom in the dark, have such power yet seem so delicate and sensitive so much of the time? You did not know the answer to it but you knew it was unfair, that such a beautiful soul had to feel and be trapped by the past, by insecurities, by others.

“What is unfair?” he asked and there was still an edge, a trace of the angel within the man.

“Everything,” you stated and looked back at him, into those eyes that roiled with such emotion and thought, at your Erik, “But especially that you only seem able to have confidence in yourself and your place in the world when it comes to music.”

That seemed to fluster him but you took the opportunity to kiss him again, no little light thing as the flame inside continued to burn. If not for the violin and bow in your hands you would have grabbed hold of him but you did not dare drop the precious instrument, for him and for yourself, thus you could only lean into him and want more while getting only that. You heard him whine behind the kiss but Erik did not resist it and that grip he had on you loosened only so he could wrap his arms around you. How he delighted in holding you, it burned you more because here was his soft side showing again and you felt a tear hit your face. Not your own, his; the kiss broke again and he was looking at you with that sad expression he would get when things started to overwhelm the man, filling him up and demanding to be let out.

“Songbird,” he repeated with the essence of the whine woven in.

“We will have to continue the lesson later.” When you can explain better, when you can tell him gently how much it made your heart race to feel his touch, your skin burn to feel his breath against your neck, your body yearn because of the power of the Angel's voice and the love for the man. But right now you could not, need was too strong and he nodded all too quickly, sidetracked so easily by you.

He let you go long enough for you to be able to put the violin and bow safely away and close the case but not a second longer. His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you close and picked you up, burying his face in your neck. “Your Erik wishes to be loved by you, please.”

“I wish to be loved by you as well, mon ange,” you whispered to him.

That's all you needed to say. The instruments and music were left behind as he carried you off to his room, to make music with you of a different type.

#erik x reader #erik destler x reader #phantom of the opera #poto #phantom of the opera x reader #fanfiction #the phantom and his songbird

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