#one of my favorites of his little hideaways

[jimmyspades]

Red’s apartment in Baltimore <3

[satellite-evans]

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.

[m00njelly2]

/\___/\

꒰ ˶• ༝ - ˶꒱

./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎

|￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣|

| read the post |

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

Hello

This is my little hideaway for my horny thoughts! I’m a 19 year old, born in 2005, from the USA, & bi. You might recognize me from my old blogs @/littlec0ner, @/princessje11yf1sh, & @/moonjelly! I do have a throne list, telegram & cash app if you would like to support me they are at the very bottom !

BACK UP @m00njelly3 PLEASE FOLLOW IT

DNI

MINORS

Blank blogs

Racists

homophobic & Transphobic people

Zionists

MAGA weridos

What I’m into

Age g@p, daddy k!nk, size difference, strength k!nk, br33ding kink, fauc3t, an@l, r@pe fantasy, oral fixation etc (will add more as I remember & explore)

What I’m not into

R@ce Play, extreme violence, scat, toilet stuff, that animal stuff forgot what it’s called

Disclaimer

I don’t condone anything illegal, if you think/ wish anything about my fantasizes are real gtf off my blog! All fantasizes are between consenting adults with pre-established limits

How to interact with Me

First and foremost, I love interacting with people but I have rules that I asked that are followed for my own personal safety & comfort!

I prefer asks over DM’s: my DM’s get flooded easily & quickly, I’m more likely to respond if you send an ask!

When send asks make sure it’s something you would say to someone you just met, even if it’s a kinky ask the same thought process applies

If I don’t answer your ask don’t take it personally: either I don’t want to answer it, or I’ve answered something like this before, or it’s already answered in this post

If you chose to DM me remember: one if I don’t respond don’t take it personally. Two, I’m not always in the mood for sexting so if you come into the conversation with that energy I’ll straight up tell you I’m not down. Three, if I stop responding, again, don’t take it personally my DM’s probably got flooded again or I’m busy

I do have sessions but there are separate rules for that

Sessions

05433e9ef5daf73d221f2d4b46ded8720c7f5e416562e5efdb445acf1dc8500020

I’m more selective on sessions I’ll be honest lol

I’m more likely to respond if you send something interesting (aka be original 😭🙏🏽)

Featured Tags

Jelly’s thoughts - for all my thoughts

Jelly’s pics - for all my pics/videos

Jelly’s answer - when I answer asks

Jelly’s psa - all my important announcements

Physical Description

5’0 or 4’11

130 pounds

32 DDD / 32E

Long wavy/ curly black hair

More about me

I’m a student so I’m not here all the time a lot of what I post is on queue/ schedules

I’m a cat mom of 2

I’m an active person, I weight lift, swim, and hike

I’m a homebody, but still extroverted

I yap… like alot

My hobbies include reading, cooking(learning how to), kpop, anime, marine biology, Star Wars, & DC comics

I’m a virgin lol

Tend to follow back if I think you/your blog is cool/funny or if I like the aesthetic

If you decide to spoil me ($10 or more) let me know in my DM’s and send me proof, I’ll send you something special🤭 (just make sure I can submit media into your inbox, and remind me I forgot )

[wonderjanga]

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:

[bigtreefest]

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

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

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.

[butlervibesonly]

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."

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Eight

TW: nsfw, past traumas + mental health discussion, domestic violence mention

When you finally return to your apartment together you are tired, yet happy, with Tom’s hand engulfing yours, his other arm filled with takeout from your favorite Thai eatery and a bag full of fresh blueberries for his famous morning breakfast.

You feel like somehow, everything is going to turn out ok. You have this warm glow in your chest that you suspect might be an elusive thing like peace, or acceptance, or some other such nonsense this steadfast man beside you is making you believe in again. 

That good feeling disintegrates like cotton candy in the rain, when you realize your apartment door is ajar. Tom notices a moment after you do, and immediately he is pushing you behind him, the bags forgotten on the floor as he retrieves his gun from his ankle holster.

“Stay here,” he tells you in a whisper, as he goes to investigate. You watch while he uses the wall for cover, kicking the door open and advancing inside, sweeping your tiny apartment for intruders. 

You trail behind him after he tells you it’s clear, in shock for the mess before you.

Your apartment is trashed. Completely turned inside out. Destroyed. 

All the contents of your cabinets and drawers are emptied. Your chairs are missing legs. Your pictures are knocked off the walls. Your couch cushions are slashed. Every pot of every plant in your kitchen is broken on the floor, shards of terra cotta and earthy soil scattered across the linoleum. 

Numb, you stand amidst the rubble, finding it hard to process that this is your space. Your tiny little cozy cube that you’d made just for yourself, your personal hideaway from the world, broken to bits. It feels so personal, and you can’t fathom why someone would do this.

It doesn’t even look like they took anything. The tv is still there–with a kitchen knife through the lcd screen. You don’t own any expensive jewelry, or keep stacks of cash around. The only other real thing of value you have…is your laptop. It was on a side table, and now…it’s gone. Fuck.

If you are numb, Tom is furious, his dark eyes blown black with rage as he looks around your ruined sanctuary, his gun still hanging loose in his hand at his side.

“It’s not safe for you here, baby. See if you can get a bag together. If too much is ruined, I’ll buy you new stuff on the way.”

“Tom…don’t we need to call the cops or something?” You were sure you’d need a police report for your renter’s insurance claim, at least.

Bless him for not giving you that ‘I am the cops’ look. Instead his dark brows are drawn together in serious thought.

“Yeah. We’ll get a team to dust for prints. But I think I already know who did it.”

“Who?”

“Our shooters, sending us a message. I think I’ve got some names. Coates, and Freemont. Working on a location. With any luck…I’ll have ‘em by tomorrow.” 

You’re guessing just by his tone that have ‘em does not exactly mean due process.

He looks around at the chaos, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, baby. We’ll fix it, I promise.”

You nod absently, still feeling disjointed from it all, though a well of tears has finally started gathering in your bottom lids. You shuffle over to your prized vanda orchids, picking one up and setting it in a pile of bark medium back on its shelf. At least it will get a little light, until you can repot it.

A warm pressure lands on your shoulder, then molds into the rest of you, engulfing your body in heat and comfort, and as soon as you are hidden and safe with your face tucked into Tom’s uniform, you begin to sob. 

Wordlessly, he picks you up, and makes to leave, probably deciding he doesn’t even want you to be here anymore because you’re such a wreck of a human that can’t even handle her own apartment being robbed, but your fist gripping his shirt and incoherent words stop him in his tracks. “My…My plants. My—“

“Shh, baby, s’okay. Forget the bag, I just need to make sure you’re somewhere safe…Hey. Hey, look at me.” 

You do, quivering and feeling as tiny as a broken winged bird in his arms even though you are a whole woman. There’s no pity in his eyes, just worry and something else. Something bright burning that lights his black orbs gold. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Maybe realizing this is not the right time to say what he wants to, but rather what you need to hear. 

“I don’t care what happens, you’re going to be safe. I don’t care if I have to burn this city down and then the LAPD along with it. I will do anything to keep you safe. Even if you do decide that I am an asshole and you hate me after all. I need you to tell me that you understand that. That you’ll trust me to keep you safe.” 

“I do,” you manage to choke out. “I do, Tom. Fuck, I do.” 

“And if there is anything. Anything you are keeping from me, then I need to know right now.” He pins you with that impossible to hold gaze…and you look down, earning a tsk. 

It was worth a try. 

And you know he means something you’re not telling him about the case, about the shooting, but all you can think of is Julian—cheating on Tom—how stupid you are. 

You lie. Right to his face. You lie, because you don’t know what else to do. “There’s nothing, Tom.” 

You know you’re lying, he knows you’re lying. Hell, the fucking dying plants know you’re lying. Luckily, it’s not hard to change the subject into more pressing matters, like how you’re sobbing uncontrollably again and burying your face into his thick shirt. 

Thank God that he is a good man. A good man who doesn’t get pissy with you about emotions. A good man who doesn’t tell you to cut the bullshit. A good man who holds you tight and mumbles words of comfort into the top of your hair. 

You don’t deserve him. Not one bit. So, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold on for dear life. Tom is wrong, he is not Poison Ivy’s boyfriend, nor Batman or the Punisher. He is Superman and you are a selfish, pathetic civilian who tricked him into loving you. He could be with Lois Lane or Wonder Woman, and here you are holding him back. 

***

“Y/n? Baby?” 

“I’m in here—the bathroom.” 

“Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey, I—what in the hell.” An amused, lopsided grin cuts through the serious concern on his face as he looks down at you curiously. Probably wondering why you’ve taken every crisp, cheap hotel blanket and pillow and made a nest in the bathtub with them. 

“I like the hotel bathtubs,” you tell him, glowering, in such an obvious mood that a smile dare not even tap you on the shoulder lest you throttle it. 

Tom has other plans for your pity party. He chuckles, and leans down to kiss-whisper into your forehead. “I really didn’t think you could get cuter.” 

You flush, grab his collar, and pull him down, into the porcelain kingdom with you, not exactly thinking about how he is long and the tub is short. You just want his big solid body on top of you whether he breaks a leg or not, and thank god he’s sturdy. 

Because he bumps his head on the rim, slams his elbow on the bottom basin in an attempt not to shove it into your tummy, and both his legs end up hanging out the side by the knee joint in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position.  

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” you tell him, trying somehow to maneuver his heavy torso and put him back together. He laughs, maybe because you’re tickling him, and definitely because you’re so concerned about his well being. 

Somehow, you both situate, and it’s with you fully on top of him, curled against his chest with his legs bent in half so he’s able to barely fit inside the bowl. You bury your face into his pleasant, itchy stubble, and sigh contentedly. 

“Bathtub a safe space, hm?” 

You nod, and he gets it, stays silent with you wrapped up safe against him, occasionally humming, kissing your hair, running his fingers over the curves and pocks and shiver-inducing spaces in your back. Tom is not built for contortionist work at all, but if he is uncomfortable, he does not voice it. 

You wonder, as your eyes are fluttering closed and your breathing is deepening with the threat of sleep, if you should tell him that you can’t remember a time—ever—where you felt this safe. 

Usually…lately…it’s the bigger part of your brain—the one that is doubtful and cynical and self critical—that plays highest bidder in the auction of your devotion. Not here, in Tom Ludlow’s arms. Here, critical brain function takes a backseat in the trunk of the cerebrum locked inside a tight suitcase, because the rest of your mind (And Heart) is sure that this long man will burn LA down for you, just like he said. 

It's a heady feeling. Tonight, you’re just selfish enough to hold onto it. 

You wake up drooling on his uniform, feeling gross and hot and cramped and sweaty. His head is angled awkwardly against the hard walls of the bath, and you pat his cheek to wake him up. “Tom,” you whisper. “Tom.”

“Yeah, what—what’s up?” His snores cut off abruptly, and he jerks to life, restrained by the confines of the small enclosure. He smiles when he sees you, and you really hope it’s not because of your trainwreck hair and smeared mascara. 

“Can we go to bed?” You ask him, rubbing some drool off the side of his mouth. 

Except sleeping is the last thing you can focus on when he stretches his full body, bare out on the cool linoleum after taking his clothes off. For some reason, you think back to your neighbor, and how she was a strong lady for not having an instant heart attack when he knocked on her door in probably only boxers. 

Speaking of your neighbor…

“Did you talk to the lady next door? Is she okay?” 

He stands you up and pulls your scrub top off. “She’s okay.” A kiss to the spillage of your breasts. “She didn’t hear or see anything, but wasn’t home most of the day.”

“Do you think they’ll come back?” You ask him, sharp little breaths pumping your chest while he kisses up your collar, over the heaving skin on your throat. His fingers pull at your bottoms, discard them in a puddle with his own dirty clothes on the floor. 

“No,” he tells you, smoothing back your tangled, puffed hair. “No, they won’t. They got what they needed. I have some of your pajamas, you wanna put them on?” 

“No,” you reply, the word cut by a hungry kiss. 

Despite the day’s events, or maybe yesterday's events—you can’t tell, because it’s pitch black outside; the kind of devouring dark that only comes after midnight—your cunt still swells and weeps for this man, and you end up sitting on top of him with his cockhead nestling your cervix and his big hands digging into your plush hips. 

You’re too tired to keep a rhythm, or really do anything but whine and grind, but it’s enough to make you both cum and stain the sheets, even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t be the asshole person in the hotel room that gets bodily fluids on everything. It’s hard, however, to think about that—or anything—when this man is bare, hard, and leaking in front of you. 

He’s still softening inside of you when you fall asleep, and you don’t even stir when he gets a warm towel to clean you up, or when he wraps his arms around you and follows you into dreamland. 

The next time you wake up, there is invasive, awful sunlight peeking through the curtains, and you are screaming. 

Soak and wet, soapy Tom is by your side in less than a second, trying to wipe your tears and just getting your cheeks wetter with his mid-shower hands. “Baby…baby. Hey, it’s okay, I’m here.” 

You’re pathetic for doing this to him. A burden through and through. Your parents were right, the man who was just starring in your violent dream was right. They were all right about you and being too much and ruining lives with the burden of your existence. 

No, no no no no. You have to pull yourself back, get it together. PTSD nightmares be damned. It’s been a while since you’ve had one that bad, but you have the skills to rationalize through it and get off the ledge before these violent, hating thoughts eclipse reason and reality. 

Tom’s there to help with reassuring words and damp fingers and the heat of his body. He lets you cry for God knows how long, even with the water still running in the bathroom. 

The first thing you can say through ugly hiccups and heavy breaths is, “is the water going to get cold?” 

He murmurs a soft laugh into your cheek. “No, baby, they keep it warm. C’Mon.”

By the time you're freshened, cleaned, rinsed, and moisturized with little bottles of complimentary lotion by Tom’s big hands in what seems to be his way of soothing you, you feel a lot better. He even tries to brush your wet tangled hair, although it doesn’t work out because he’s way too gentle and afraid to do anything but press the bristles to your outer strands. 

When you rake it through to show him how, he snatches the paddle back, giving you a hard look. “You’re tearing it out!”

You laugh at him. “I’ve been doing it that way for my entire life, Tom.” 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He holds the brush higher as you try to snatch it back. 

“Not really, my scalp is strong. Give me—“

The phone ringing stops your reaching hand midair. 

“Scuse’ me,” he grins, going to answer and taking your brush with him, obviously underestimating your ability to comb through it with your fingers instead. 

But you don’t, because you like it when he just barely pulls the tips through your locs, fingers tickling over your shoulders and neck and ears. It’s fine, he can brush it all day if he wants, especially if it keeps him holed up in this little hotel room with you. 

You put your wild mane into a loose bun on top of your head, brush your teeth, and grab the clothes you have prepared from the back of the toilet, not expecting such a familiar smell to waft from the pile and physically push you back two steps. You drop the cotton dress and the black shorts as your back hits the sink lip with a painful thud. 

You’d recognize that cheap, Walmart cologne anywhere. It could bring you back from the dead. Hell, it probably has a few times when he hit you hard enough to knock you unconscious. 

The stench puffs from your clothes in a billowy cloud that turns your stomach sour. You have to turn and lean over the sink, get your head right, close your eyes to guard against the onslaught of ruthless memories jostled by this abrasive odor.

Grounding yourself involves picking out three things you can see, and three things that you can hear. It's all you can do to prevent another panic attack. 

Tom’s muffled voice talking on the phone, the drip of a leaky faucet, the whirring air conditioner, the pristine white porcelain of the sink, the bright blue of your toothbrush, the open bottle of Tom’s cologne…Oh.

Trauma is a funny thing. Too many triggers happen too close together—it makes your brain play tricks in the quest to keep itself safe. Brain wants to hide, jump right back in the bathtub and lock this bathroom door and stay huddled up in the damp shelter for the foreseeable future. 

You grab Tom’s cologne and take a whiff, then breathe a heavy sigh of relief when you realize that the smell has the same musky undertone, but none of the gaudy sweet notes that your mind was fabricating. 

It wasn’t from your now wet clothes—they smell like your detergent, and you put them on despite the patches of liquid that cool your skin and make you shiver. 

You walk out of the bathroom, and Tom is sitting on the couch in his jeans and tshirt, legs spread wide, looking at something intently on his phone until his attention is captured by your presence. He looks so good, all sprawled out and formidable, and all you want to do is wrap yourself around him like a soft little koala hugging a thick eucalyptus. 

“Are you leaving?” You ask him timidly, arms crossed defensively against an answer you don’t want to hear. 

“No, I’m not,” he says.

“You can if you have to,” you tell him, lying, forgetting that this man can read you like the alphabet. “I know you have things to do.” 

He tilts his head at you, mouth perking up just a tiny bit in that way that makes your insides flare with fiery fervor. “How about you?” He muses, “you have somewhere to go?”

“Well,” you start, now that he mentions it, “I should go and clean up my place, maybe.”

“You could…” He seems to think on this matter, eyes darkening mischievously. “Or you could come sit on my lap.” He pats his knee, and you giggle at his usual antics.

“Mmmm…I dunno, Tom.” You attempt a sly, flirty grin, hoping you’re not resembling more of an awkward alligator than a pretty fox. Seductive feels a little strange for you right now…You might have to settle for the Koala. “Maybe you should beg me to sit in your lap?” 

Tom Ludlow, bless his heart, and despite all that testosterone dominating his personality, settles back into the couch cushions and submits to you. “Please, baby, please come sit in my lap. I need you.” 

It feels a little wrong—he’d be a bad actor—and it makes you giggle at him, covering your mouth to keep the snorts away. 

He pouts at you, and it makes you laugh harder, because he looks so adorable, and because a scary, big man should not look so adorable, and because you fucking love him and it’s driving you insane. 

You don’t realize he’s pulling you on top of him, falling back to the couch with you in his arms—you’re too busy laughing, then crying, although for an entirely different reason now. 

“Honey,” he whispers, pushing the wisps of loose hair away from your teary, sticky cheeks and letting you snot on his fresh, laundered shirt. “Honey, I’m sorry. I’ve got you.” 

But that’s the problem. He’s got you—your little thin skinned heart right in his strong hand, and it’s so ready to burst like an overripe cherry at any moment and kill whatever part is left of you that cares enough about human connection to let someone baby and shush and pamper you. You try to push him away, and he holds you tighter. 

“Tom…”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say around a sob, coiling up in his lap, giving in to clinging for dear life. 

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Xavier: Library Hideaway | Drabble

This is one of the five drabbles i wrote for Xavier (All SFW). I wrote each drabble in ten minutes for my writing sprints so they're not like my normal quality of writing. However these were a good way for me to warm up with my characterization of Xavier! I'll be posting the other drabbles later (probably will queue them) so look out for those!

Pairing: Xavier x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

“What are you doing?” Xavier’s voice was so close that you almost jumped. You spun around on the comfortable bean bag chair you had claimed. Xavier was on the one right behind you and the two of you managed to use your backs to help support one another while you read. It had been so quiet and serene that you hadn’t expected to suddenly hear his voice.

“Reading?” You said with an amused chuckle. Obviously you were reading since your nose was deep in a book right now.

Xavier was still facing away but you could see his profile, the gentle smile on his face while he shook his head, “Not…that.” He finally said. He took a moment to look at you, making eye contact, “You keep shifting.”

Oh, you hadn’t even noticed. You were currently reading an action scene in the book, trying to think of all the details as vividly as you could. You guessed during all that imagination you had been moving around a bit. A small flush went up at the realization. You cleared your throat before speaking in a hushed tone.

“I just got to an exciting part in this book, that’s all.” You mustered up and you heard the subtle huff of his laughter. You guys were trying to be quiet at the moment, the library commanded a certain air to it that you were compelled to abide by. That and…

The two of you heard footsteps, someone passing by your secret little reading nook you had found. When you guys discovered this place a month ago you were surprised to have found it. Right behind one of the shelves was a nook area that was covered in dust, as though nobody had cleaned it in years. The two of you made the assumption that perhaps nobody in the library knew about it and took it upon yourselves to clean it.

Now if was your favorite place to be, grabbing drinks and a book then heading over. It was also fun, seeing people pass by the nook and not knowing the two of you were right beyond a shelf. Once the footsteps went away you let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Xavier finally spoke, “What’s the scene about?” He said, shifting more. It was enough that you began falling backwards, only to feel his hand on your back as he steadied you.

“Just an action scene.” You said then paused for a moment, “Did you…want to read it?” You finally asked. You could see the gentle smile on Xavier’s face as he nodded. You were about to hand the book over when you suddenly felt your center of gravity shifting. You let out a small, surprised noise as he adjusted the two of you.

He placed you on his lap, crossing his legs to create a little space for you. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as he looked over the words on the pace. “Don’t be too loud, unless you want them to find us.” He said and you let out a small groan.

“You could’ve warned me…besides we’re in public and this is inappropriate.” You scolded him, yet despite your words leaned into his chest some more, his natural body heat warming you up.

“Nobody knows about this place.” Xavier’s breath ghosted over your neck before you felt his lips pressing down on the valley between your head and shoulder, “It’s our own little getaway, right?”

You sighed but nodded your head, “Ya, it is. Now if you want to understand this scene we’re gonna have to read the entire book together now.” You pointed it out to him.

“Read it to me?” He asked and you chuckled.

“Can we take turns?” He squeezed gently at your waist after you asked that, then you felt him nod.

“Ya, I think I can manage that.”

One of my buddies really did put Xavier into perspective with a vast majority of the fandom: He's kinda the middle child. I noticed my masterlist only had two NSFW things written for him, so I decided to fix that. I tend to write a lot for Zayne and even Rafayel, but I'm thinking of taking turns of just writing several drabbles of one specific character at a time! Of course as long as I can keep up with it, I don't wanna burn myself out.

Still, with that being said...I do have one NSFW fic for Zayne that I forgot was in my drafts that'll be posted soon, as well as...something angsty for the man. A friend asked me to make him hurt so alas I did.

[cryptictongues]

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.”

[leeknot]

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

[fishsticksloser]

Rottmnt fluff hc of Girlfriend reader who surprise her boyfriend (separately including the future turtles) by making her boyfriend stay at a high class, 5 stars+ hotel.

When the boys asks how she got it, she say " my parents own the hotel so they allowed us to stay here for free for a week ", reader did this to spoil her boyfriend.

Weekend Getaway

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, aged up, yo'kai!reader, mention of alcohol

A/N: nothing explicit, maybe some innuendo but nothing more. I didn't include the future turtles. I also just finished watching Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. III and... Ouchie...

Donnie

He overworks himself

So you decided to take him out on a getaway

He's suspicious because you go radio silent for a while

You only told Leo about it because the other two (especially Mikey) are bad at keeping secrets

When you guys got there

Donnie was shocked

Silk sheets, champagnes and wine, anything he could want

He was very confused as to how you afforded such a nice hotel in the Hidden City

When you told him that your parents owned it he nodded and mumbled a little

Then dove into the soft sheets

He really loves how they feel on his skin and shell

(And how pretty you look on them)

Leo

He stresses out a lot

So he take a few vacations with you every once in a while

He can teleport you anywhere in the world after all

Leo normally hand a rough plan of what was you guys were gonna do

But after a while of hardly seeing each other and a few stressful weeks

You decided to surprise him with a getaway

With the help of Raph, you kidnapped him

He woke up, confused and alert

But felt the soft sheets and saw you

He immediately relaxed

Leo enjoyed the spa, the alcohol, the pool

Everything

It was one of his favorite trips

It'll be one of his favorite memories forever

Mikey

You decided to take him away to get away from his brothers

We all know he desperately needs it

It was a fantastic get away

Mikey never felt more relaxed

He thanked your parents over and over

His favorite parts were probably the hotel room itself

The beautiful decor and bouncy mattress made it the perfect hideaway

In fact, you hardly left the room the whole week

Raph

Does this man need a break or what?

Well luckily, he has you

He was very stubborn, not wanting to leave his brothers

Worried about the mess they'll make while he's gone

But they promised to be on their best behavior (they weren't)

That first night, he hadn't slept that well in months maybe even years

Raph feels so refreshed and energized

Definitely goes hiking and other outdoor activities

He also really enjoyed the pool

He was a lot more active and alert

It made for an interesting week

[skele-bunny]

GIVE ME MORE WATER DEW & MY LIFE IS YOURS ARU

cough anyways: ,,, water dew and delta pretty pleaseeee,,,,

There's a pipebomb in your mailbox that in 1.2 seconds will detonate. Expect it.

Where to start!! They first met in the open bay in the hospital, accidentally being sat next to each other. Just sniffing, pawing, trying to figure out this summon-mate... Unfortunately, the thing is, waters newly summoned can't be around each other that close at ALL. They're super vicious to those not from the same territory. Long story short, they tried mauling each other LMAO. They got separated and eventually had the slow meeting and calm around one another. The others tease them about it. "hey remember when you guys tried to kill each other?"

Delta was super attractive to Dew. He's never met an albino water before, just pure white that glows red and pink. Delta thought Dew was the most attractive thing he's ever seen, too. Once they were able to get past their territory differences and started being around each other, they kept attempting to court one another in the further months hehe. Little things like Dew ruffling his spine for Delta, and in return Delta would give his fallen teeth for him to have.

Swim!!! Obviously!!! They didn't really like swimming alone that much, and could always be found together in the lake; rare when not. Delta as a Moray Eel and Dew as a betta fish, they kept hiding and finding each other just for little chases. Delta was mainly the hider and Dew the seeker, just so curious and loved leading on the "hunt" for him. Delta preferred swimming at night but didn't mind negotiating with Dew to swim at sunset instead!

Speaking of hunt!!! Delta usually had the chore of assisting others with fishing and he always snuck a salmon to Dew since he knew it was his absolute favorite. Dew learned how to make sushi and he'd constantly pack Delta's lunch with at least 2 sushis rolls inside with tempura!!

Sometimes Delta would have difficulty with their second row of teeth, and Dew wouldn't mind helping brush and care for them. Dew didn't need the help but Delta always returned the favor for their own double fangs. Also is the one to help Delta with their angel fangs piercings once they got them. "You didn't have enough teeth already?"

Nesting to the fucking max. There's a little hideaway they found after spending the entire day travelling the lake, and have both a land nest and a water nest. Lotta seaweed, coontails, sunken lily pads, hydrilla, tape grass, and even small pebbles to outline it. If you see bubbles in there, don't ask. Their land one is in Delta's room as his room is bigger. So many plushies, blankets, pillows, and their clothes thrown in. Sometimes there's hoarded snacks within the mound, so they just have to dig around and not get up :3

Always linking tails during practice!!!! Delta is super stoic and doesn't move a lot, so it's such a different comparison to Dewdrop who's literally bouncing around, head banging, stomping, and swaying. They still have fun a whole bunch and always leans against each other. It sounds super cool when Dew is able to join them, two bases at once? Phew.

Spicy wise? Good god save us all. (CW - LACTATION, BREEDING KINK, EGGS)

It seemed like after spending more time together their heat/rut synced and everyone heard about it. Literally. It happened once during tour and Papa had to invest in headphones for everyone while they secluded Delta and Dew to the lounge. LOUD. AND HYPNOTIC. Before the headphones, Omega literally had to hold Alpha back. "YOU WILL BE EATEN IN THERE DO NOT!!"

Dew's always had a high egg count, now add in Delta's tentacle pumping him full? Honestly looked knocked up each time JENEKD. They preferred having sex in the tub or lake, but obviously that wasn't always possible so they'd make do. Big about breeding and Delta purring about fertilizing the eggs. They were so thankful birth control exists once they came out of their haze LMAO.

The one thing Dew honestly didn't like about their sync is Dew's chest would get super swollen and get ready to produce. Birth control or not, unfortunately that's how water ghoul anatomy is :,) Delta didn't mind helping massage the issue he helped cause, but sometimes the others would as well. Dew just melted in his hold and whining. Water ghoul milk is a lot more watery, too. One time Pebble tugged Dew's nipple, it shot out, and Delta had to coax Dew out of the bathroom while sobbing from the embarrassment after biting Pebble for doing that.

A specific thing before water ghouls fuck is they fight. Rain does this too, but he's a lot more docile since it's not with another water. One time they were in the common room, just growling and hitting at each other, fangs bared with blood. Aër tried separating only to see Dew's pants off and Delta's tentacle out, both calm the moment they seen him. "Oh! Sorry Aër, did you wanna join?" They got banned from having sex in the common room.

So about the bubbles in the water nest.... Yeah it's just Dew saying he wants to fuck. Betta fish do that to make little nests to prepare for eggs and it's very much an invitation for Delta when they're laying in their little nest. Loves touching over Delta's slit and coaxing his tentacle out just to show his own slit and teeth spread for him. Just pressed completely against each other, biting, clawing, and squirming together and desperate to keep their tails as close as possible.

Little freaks who I love so so much

[violetsiren90]

Beacons Ashore

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; new friendship; angst and fluff; Yoongi POV

Summary: A few months after first stumbling across you in his favorite spot, Yoongi finds himself at the hideaway ledge on a night in March.

Content Warnings: PG, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; minor injuries and allusions to domestic violence; allusions to minors smoking cigarettes; sad birthday boy; first aid; sweet beginnings

Author's note: Just a quick birthday drabble in honor of Yoongi and my favorite fic couple. It's exactly 1000 words! Short and sweet. A Yoongi POV. 💕

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! Yoongi certainly loves you, and I do too! 🧜‍♀️💜

The moon watched Yoongi shift impatiently where he sat.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    This was his spot, after all - you had stolen it. Intruded. You kept insisting that it was very possible that you had in fact found it first, and that the both of you had simply never retreated to the little nook in the cliffside on the same night until that night, last year, but Yoongi found the notion highly improbably.

    It wasn't that he would ever complain that you were now part of his nightly reprieves more often than not. You weren't noisy or bothersome, and always brought cozy blankets and oatmeal crème cakes you were willing to share. You were easy to talk to, when there were words, and when there were none, your silence was easy as well - a peaceful companion in the darkness like the crash of the waters below.

    It was a Tuesday, and you were always here on Tuesdays. Your mother was gone playing bunco and your father was...working late. Yoongi shifted again where he sat, tossing a pebble over the lip of the ledge. He hadn't been able to lift any cigarettes tonight, not after the incident with the soup. His stomach rumbled. Yoongi held himself around the middle and stared out at the water shimmering under the chilly, pale yellow light of the March moon.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    He wasn't.

    And then little scuffling noises from above found him springing to his feet and leaning over the railing to see you tottering down the steps wearing a backpack and carrying a flannel blanket in your arms that nearly obscured the front of you with its bundled mass. Yoongi hopped over the rail and trotted up the stairs to take the blanket and the backpack while you clambered over the railing to reach the ledge.

    You were so tiny that you had to drop to the ground after pushing your tummy off the bar. It made Yoongi smile to himself. He wished you weren't so cute, like a tiny little bear in your puffy coat and Ugg boots. If you weren't so endearing he could begrudge you for setting up camp in this little corner of his life.

    Yoongi didn't let people in, it was easier that way. People thought they wanted to get to know him, sure...but people always overestimated themselves. People were soft, ignorant idiots who recoiled when they discovered the ugly, messy truth his life, quietly excusing themselves from his association thereafter.

    That's why when you asked him what had happened to his hands, he lied.

    "I fell."

    It wasn't exactly a lie. He had fallen. When his mother had shoved him out the door and locked it behind him, screaming for him to go, to run, while she took the blows meant for him, he had fallen.

    Your eyes dropped to his scraped knees. Yoongi tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The innocence of your knitted brow seemed to ask why he was always bleeding. Under his jacket the soft skin of Yoongi's tummy burned from the scalding overturned bowl of seaweed soup. Suddenly, he wanted to run away - but he was already where he'd end up if he did.

    You watched Yoongi's eyes dart over your face. You watched his foot scrape back over the stone of the ledge. You huffed and stuck your legs out in front of you in a little V, pulling your backpack into your lap. It was almost as big as you were.

    Yoongi's heart squeezed in spite of the pulse rushing in his ears.

Cute. Damn it.

You plunged your arm in past the zipper of the bag and pulled out a little white box, setting it between your legs and glancing back up at him to pat the ground beside you. Yoongi raised an eyebrow skeptically, but you tilted your head to the side and raised your own brows in a way he had quickly learned meant he better just cooperate.

    He sat down beside you, his back to the cold rock and his knees drawn up to his chest. You shoved your backpack aside and skootched in next to him, cracking open the plastic lid of the box to reveal the contents of a first-aid kit. Yoongi's heart squeezed again.

    You peeled open an alcohol pad and warned that it would hurt. He scoffed, then clenched his jaw to keep from yelping when you gently patted the cool wet pad over the bloodied knees peeking through the rips in his jeans. Then you pursed your little lips and leaned in to blow on his skin. What on earth that was supposed to do to help Yoongi hadn't the faintest notion, but he did know that your small, gentle touches were taking up enough space in his mind to push away everything else.

    You stretched a bandage over one knee. It was white with bright pink hearts and tiny pictures of Hello Kitty. Absolutely garish, and the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

"It's my birthday," Yoongi blurted out, surprising himself with his own words.

    You drew back and blinked at him.

    "I..." he mumbled, reaching for something to justify the sudden revelation, "I'm thirteen."

    You turned away to rummage in your bag again. Yoongi was kicking himself for being such a weirdo, and he stood again to go, when you turned back with something in your hands. You looked up at him with a silly grin, holding an unwrapped oatmeal crème cake with a Q-tip from the first aid kit stabbed like a candle in its soft center.

    "Got a light?" you asked, teasingly.

    He reached out and gingerly took the little confection in his battered palms, pulling a weathered Zippo from his jacket pocket.

    The moon watched as he lit the the little cotton swab.

    It watched him shush you as you tried to sing to him then mush the snack cake against your face when you wouldn't stop.

    From far up and away in the cold March sky, the moon saw Yoongi begin to glow at your side - long after the make-shift candle had been blown out.                                                                                                                           

-Fin-

[afewproblems]

For the writing prompts - steddie, 3. “I’m not jealous” or 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”? Pls & Ty

-steddierthings

Thank you so much @steddierthings for your lovely prompt! I chose number 3, "I'm not Jealous" (I was trying to get both prompts but just couldn't come up with a solid enough idea for the two of them)

This is partly inspired by this post that I read recently but I really like this idea and I do hope that you enjoy!

This was the last straw, Gareth thinks to himself, his face in his hands, fingers dangerously close to plunging themselves into his eyes. 

“I can’t take it anymore man,” Gareth groans as Jeff takes a seat at their favorite table. It’s tucked away into the far corner of the Hideaway, the thick shiny veneer has been dulled over the years and the honey wood beneath is covered in thick layers of graffiti and carved initials. Jeff is particularly proud of the Metallica logo he painstakingly free-drew out on one of the corners while the bartender wasn’t looking. 

Jeff snorts as his gaze travels to Eddie at the bar before falling back to Gareth, who has dropped his hands in favour of glaring at the back of their friend. 

"If I have to hear him fuckin' harp about Harringtons perfect lips one more time I swear I'm going to lose it," he mutters before taking one last pull on the nearly empty bottle in front of him. Gareth winces at the taste of warm beer as he swallows the dregs and puts the bottle down a tad harsher than he means to. 

Jeff rolls his eyes and smirks, "I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon dude, he's too much of a chicken-shit to actually do anything about it," he shrugs and takes a swig of his own beer, "besides, you remember him after the senior swim meet?" 

"Oh my Goood," Gareth groans and drops his head to the sticky table surface, "he didn't shut up about that swim suit, or his moles, for a fucking month". 

Now admittedly, Gareth could appreciate that Steve Harrington was hot, he had eyes in his head after all. 

But he just couldn't understand this sudden resurgence of Eddie's very vocal pining from afar. 

After the whole business with poor Chrissy, the man-hunt that left Gareth and Jeff incredibly spooked, and the sudden earthquakes that swallowed much of their small town, Eddie had come back to their band with a gaggle mismatched party members that trailed after him like lost puppies -including Steve Harrington. 

Now, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler made sense. Robin was one of their own -a band geek, sheep adjacent in her own right and Nancy was Mike's sister, whip-smart and twice as scary. 

But Steve, former jock and King of the hallways of Hawkins high? 

It made no sense. 

But, he had been there for Eddie through it all apparently. Steve had sat at his bedside in the hospital, trading off with Wayne and Dustin to let them go home for a rest while they waited for Eddie to wake up. He had brought over food to the Munson's new trailer to help while Eddie was still recovering, and even offered to host their renewed Hellfire nights at the Harrington House rather than the school. 

As much as Gareth hated to admit it, Steve Harrington actually seemed to have turned into a decent dude. 

Which brings him back to the issue at hand. 

"I just don't get why he won't shut up about him man," Gareth says with a sigh, he looks over at Jeff who is busy rolling his eyes and looking for an empty spot on their table to tag with his pen.

"I mean, you would if you've ever been hopelessly in love with someone before," Jeff says with a shrug before elbowing Gareth sharply as Eddie makes his way back to the table with three beers.

Oh…well shit.

"Maybe he just needs a little push," Gareth hums under his breath to Jeff as Eddie plunks the bottles down and slides them across the table toward them.

"What are we talking about?" Eddie asks as he takes a seat on one of the mismatched chairs on the far side of the table, he looks between Jeff and Gareth expectantly with a crooked grin. 

Gareth takes the new bottle in front of him and tears at the slightly damp paper label with his nail, as a new thought blooms, he turns to meet Jeff's eyes with a grin and lets the thought travel through their gaze.

I have a plan.

No.

Dude, trust me!

Jeff shakes his head and hides a smile behind his beer as he takes another swig.

"We were just talking about the next Hellfire meeting, maybe we can sweet talk Harrington into hosting again for us," Gareth says, trying to keep his voice level, he leans forward on his elbows and ignores the sigh that escapes Jeff beside him. 

Eddie brightens slightly and smiles for a moment before it disappears as his eyes narrow suspiciously, "probably," he says after a beat, "why?" 

"No reason," Gareth hums again as innocently as he can manage, "Steve's great, it'll be cool to catch up on how the Hoosiers are doing, that's all". 

Eddie freezes across the table and Jeff kicks Gareth's leg, hard, he fights off a wince at the impact and kicks back. 

"I uh," Eddie stutters out as he slowly seems to gain his movement back, "I didn't know you liked Basketball". 

Gareth waves his left hand and drops his gaze back to the bottle in his right, trap set. 

"I don't follow it that closely, that's why it's nice to talk to Steve about it," he lies.

Gareth has no interest in Basketball and has not in fact spoken to Steve much, outside of thanking him for hosting their last session. He can feel Jeff's gaze boring into the side of his face, it's one lie, one little white lie and it's for a good purpose, right? For love!

He tries not to let Eddie's somber face eat away at him for the rest of the night.

It's at the next Hellfire night that Gareth decides to kick things up a notch despite Jeff's warnings. 

"Just don't do anything really stupid man," Jeff tells him over the phone before the game. It wasn't like it was malicious, Eddie just needed a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe a big push.

Gareth takes a deep breath as he walks into the kitchen of the Harrington house, he'd never been here himself during the wild party phase King Steve had been infamous for and he can see why it was the central hub for the popular crowd. 

The kitchen itself is massive and the in-ground pool outside the window seems like it would be fun in the summer without the chill of April winds and the tarp covering it. 

Steve is in the kitchen talking with Eddie, he's wearing a slightly oversized forest green sweater and tight blue-jeans which --even Gareth catches himself staring a little too long at. Focus.

He's bent over the oven and putting something on a cookie sheet onto the middle rack before standing back up and closing the door. Steve takes off the floral oven mitts and sweeps his wild hair away from his heat-flushed face. Eddie seems to be listening but his eyes are just slightly glazed over and lingered far too long on the swell of Steve's jean-clad ass as he bent over.

"Hey man," Gareth calls out from the kitchen entrance, he ignores the way Eddie freezes again before slumping into a pout.

"Oh hey," Steve says, his voice tinged with slight surprise, "you excited for the session tonight?" 

Gareth nods and siddles up closer to the pair, he leans around to take a peek at the oven behind them and sniffs the air exaggeratedly, "oh what did you make for us this time Harrington? I swear, if you cooked for me like that every day I'd die a happy man". 

A pretty pink blush blooms over Steve's cheeks and ears as he fumbles with one of the oven mitts, and Okay, if Eddie doesn't make a move soon maybe….

No. Focus up man.

Steve's large hazel eyes flick from Gareth to Eddie so fast he almost misses it. 

"Uh, I mean, it's just some pizza rolls, I didn't actually have time today," Steve mumbles with a shrug, he doesn't seem to notice the furious glare that Eddie shoots Gareth's way, too busy turning around to set the timer on the little plastic egg on the counter. 

"Next time, I'm sure," Gareth says with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Steves and leaning into his space, a startled high pitched laugh bubbles out of Steve who shrugs again. 

Eddie reaches out and slings an arm around Steve's shoulders, tugging him slightly away from Gareth and into Eddie's space. He watches, fascinated as Steve relaxes slightly into Eddie's hold. 

"Stevie here does such a good job taking care of us," Eddie says sweetly into Steve's ear, he may as well have pissed in a circle around the kitchen and told Gareth to back off and eat glass, it doesn't go unnoticed the way Steve seems to bask in the attention -to Gareth anyway.

Ah well, in for a penny.

"How is it that someone hasn't snatched you up yet Harrington? He cooks, he cleans, he hosts game nights? Like a regular Carol Brady or something," Gareth asks, his voice almost wavers as Eddie's hackles rise. Eddie's normally soft brown eyes have hardened and he's looking at Gareth as though trying to figure out if he could actually get away with kicking him in the shin, or somewhere slightly higher.

But then all at once Eddie sags, he abruptly drops his arm from Steve's shoulder and stomps out of the kitchen leaving Steve and Gareth alone as the back door slams shut. 

Well shit.

Steve's eyebrows crinkle together worriedly as he bites his bottom lip, his eyes trained on the back door, "that was mean," he says softly before finally shifting his gaze to meet Gareth's surprised face, "I know what you were trying to do, but I don't think he was really ready to talk about it yet man," Steve continues with a shake of his head before seemingly steeling himself.

Steve breathes out a long sigh and hands Gareth the oven mitt in his hand without looking at him, "that timer is going to go off in about eight more minutes, just flip them when it goes off and then put them back for another ten".

And with that Steve steps around him to follow Eddie out the door. 

"I told you not to do anything stupid man," Jeff's voice floats into the kitchen from the hall, Gareth resists the urge to knock his head into the wall beside him.

"I know, I know," he mumbles as Jeff takes the spot that Eddie and Steve had vacated, "I should probably go apologize, can you watch these?" Gareth gestures towards the oven as he hands over the mitts.

Jeff's nods and rolls his eyes again as he leans back against the counter, "I better hear groveling dude," he calls out as Gareth makes his way towards the back door, "don't think Eddie wouldn't kill your character just to spite you!"

Gareth walks a little faster at the thought.

Without a porch light the yard is dark but for the pale moonlight that stretches over the lawn and patio. He makes his way down the stairs but pauses as soft voices reach his ears. 

"I'm not, I'm not jealous man," Eddie scoffs, his voice comes out in a sharp growl.

"No, Eds, that's not what I'm saying--" 

"Why would I be jealous, I don't own you, you can date or screw whoever you want Harrington," Eddie says again, his voice now bitter and soft.

There's silence for a moment before Steve speaks slowly, "whoever I want huh?" 

"Be my guest," Eddie scoffs again.

Gareth tip toes over, closer to the corner of the house and crouches down beside the bushes before peeking around the corner, just in time to see Steve step forward and slowly cup Eddie's face before leaning in to kiss him. 

Gareth resists the urge to cheer in relief, but it's a near thing. 

Eddie is frozen for a moment before he seems to come back to himself, his hands rise up to thread into Steve's hair and around the small of his back as Eddie walks them backwards into the side of the house, he presses Steve against it drawing out a surprised gasp which Eddie swallows with a please hum.

Gareth takes this as his queue to back away slowly and tip toe back up the stairs, no need to add voyeurism to his list of crimes for the day. 

When Steve and Eddie do finally return to the kitchen, Steve's hair is in complete disarray and his lips are nearly as red as his flushed cheeks. Eddie grins widely, radiating happiness, and saunters in with his arm loosely draped around Steve's waist. 

Eddie spots Gareth hovering awkwardly near the oven, Jeff pays neither of them any mind as he takes out their treats from the oven and asks Steve for a hand plating everything for the kids in the living room. Steve smiles knowingly at Jeff, his eyes trail over to Eddie and Gareth once before he snags a platter from the cupboard and leads Jeff to the farthest side of the kitchen. 

"I suppose I have you to thank for that?" Eddie says quietly, the rising volume in the living room teases the arrival of the kids at any moment. 

"Yeah, look I'm sorry man--" 

Eddie waves him off and claps him on the back with a small smile, "eh, it's fine, I needed a little push, wasted a lot of time thinking I didn't deserve everything I wanted," he says softly. 

Eddie snorts suddenly and a playful grin blooms over his face as he brings up his hand to poke Gareths chest, "Besides, I'm your DM remember? I can throw an ancient red dragon at you guys next time and tell the kids it's your fault". 

Eddie cackles as he leaves Gareth in stunned silence to join Steve and Jeff on their way into the hallway. He slips his hand into Steve's back pocket as he joins them. 

Gareth groans quietly, and starts mentally writing out a new character backstory, he has a feeling his current Elf Ranger wasn't going to last that much longer. 

[bewarethewolfarmy]

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.