#Relaxing Piano Music for Babies

[snowvies]

Mr. Badgley

Penn Badgley x Fem!Reader

summary: you can't stop thinking about your married piano teacher, Mr. Badgley. and one day he slides under the instrument to show you how much he's been thinking about you too.

wc: 1k

cw: age gap (reader 19, Penn late thirties), cheating, piano teacher x student, pussy eating, fingering, female masturbation

Sundays are your favorite days, especially ones like this when the clouds hang low with a murky swirl in the sky. You're nineteen, and college is kicking your ass but you promised yourself you wouldn't think about the papers due when you're here, at Mr. Badgley's house.

You found his ad on craigslist, piano lessons..fifty bucks an hour you would've scrolled past it until you saw him, and his family. You felt safer in a random man's house when his wife and newborn baby were in the same room with you. So you started going there, ever since your freshman year.

Your raggedy car rolllsss to stop and you get out to see the lonely house, picked apart to be perfect, not a single thing out of place... except yourself.

His wife answers the door a few minutes after knocking, the cold biting your bare legs as you run in for warmth, completely missing her scowl at your lack of kicking the mat with your dirty boots.

Mr. Badgley offers you a warm smile, hair combed perfectly, sweater ironed and pants straight like every weekend. His eyes always look a little empty when you come. His wife jingles her keys around her finger as she readjusts the baby on her hip

"I'm going out, be done when I'm home" the same line. Every week. You smile her way but she doesn't pay mind to it, leaving you and her husband to play. you turn to Mr. Badgley but he's already walking to the connecting living room of the tiny house, sitting on the worn bench as he slides the fallboard up.

You sit next to him as he wears an excited smile, when he's like this, playing with you, it doesn't seem orchestrated by his wife. Every move he makes is analyzed by her, except this. The only reason he's allowed to do this is because they needed the extra money.

"Let's start where we left off last week, yes?" he asked and you nodded, you inhaled the mixture of musk and old books that surrounded the pianist as he began the background cords. his eyes are on you, they shine as his spine relaxes into the music and you begin your part. fingers dancing over keys as you try to remember the pattern

Your eyes squeezed shut once you messed the keys up. He smiles softly and lets a laugh out of his nose at your reaction

"Like this," his larger palm rests on top of yours as he guides your fingers, you nod and try again.

Soon enough an hour passes and you both rise from the bench and you dig into your purse for the fifty bucks you crumpled into it this morning, but, warm hands slide on top of your shoulder and the older man shakes his head.

"No need" he grins and tries to send you off but you insist, grabbing the money but he pushes you out the door.

"I will not have you pay for something that I enjoy just as much, Y/n, have a lovely week" The door softly shuts and you're left stunned.

.

You roll around your dorm bed, restless as the man's words keep ringing in your head. Why didn't he let you pay?

Maybe you're being dramatic. But it isn't like the Badgleys are set either.

You shut your eyes in a huff, suffocating yourself in the pillow under you as you replay the keys in an attempt to lull you asleep

But it isn't just the keys you're thinking about...

It's how his hand guided yours, it's how he looked at you when it was your part to play, it's his scent, it's his being. It's driving you mad.

You arch your back slowly, fingers sliding down your body until you get to your aching core. slick-filled fingers rubbing yourself at the thought of your teacher's hands touching you, grabbing you, loving you.

You moan into the pillow, legs shaking as you cream around your fingers, the thought of him drives you wild.

So just how will you act the next time you see him?

.

Before you know it, it's Sunday and you're back at the Badgleys, with his wife announcing her departure and the formal greetings of you and your teacher, you're back at that bench, side by side.

He starts the cords, and you follow trying to calm your shaking legs as you think about what fueled you that night. You couldn't even look him in the eyes this session.

His hand softly squeezes your bare thigh and you look back at the man.

"You're completely off" he informs you and you don't think your face could get redder.

"I-I'm so sorry...let's try again" you panic but his thumb rubs loving circles on your flesh.

"You usually think the world ends when you mess up, but you kept playing this time, you're mind is somewhere else Ms. Y/n."

"Sorry Mr. Badgley" you murmur

"Talk to me, get it off your chest so we can get back to playing" he smiles and you nod slowly

"...Why didn't you let me pay last time?" you ask, he stops for a moment as the hand on your thigh now rests on his face as he thinks for a moment.

"I just feel like, something so pleasurable shouldn't be bought," he says above a whisper and you feel your entire face glow, and he must have noticed with how he laughs.

"Not those pleasures, Ms. Y/n" he smiles and you don't think you've ever been so embarrassed. But when his laughter stops, his eyes swirl softly into something darker, in that moment you feel exposed to every thought as he eyes you.

He stands, hands finding your shoulders

"Keep playing"

You take a shaky breath as your thighs begin to shake once more, fingers finding the keys as you start the song

"Good," he whispers, his scents overwhelming you now as you feel almost dizzy while playing, you barely notice how he slips under the piano.

"Mr. Badgley, what are you doing?" you gasp as his dark brown eyes gaze up at you

"Keep.playing" he says sternly, and with a swallow, you keep going

He kisses your knees and you feel yourself sticking to your panties as he spreads them apart.

He has a wife. He has a kid. What are you doing?

"You're doing great" he huffs, kissing your thighs, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as his fingers dance up to your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, your wetness sticking to the fabric before they are lost in his pockets

Your bare pussy is in front of your teacher's face as he rubs up and down your thighs taking a shaky breath in

You slam the keys as his tongue licks up your pussy, he moans into you before forcing you to scoot closer into his face, his hands wrapping around your ass as he slurps and moans at your cunt.

"Mr.- fuck" you cry, hands climbing to try and stop your moans as your hips buck up to hump his face

"You taste so so good" he groans, making out with your pussy as he sucks at your clit just to tongue fuck your hole

Hot tears flow down your face as he stares up at you, watching you come undone for him.

You shake around him, orgasm approaching closer with every lick, he sucks on your slit before adding a long finger to your hole. You throw your head back as he fingers you, flicking his tongue relentlessly as his finger curls inside you.

You feel him whine and moan against your pussy, and when you look down you see him gripping and grabbing at his hard-on as he eats you out. You cry as that sends you over and you cum around his finger

You're panting as he curls his fingers a few more times before shoving it into his mouth and licking you clean, you're shaking and wide-eyed as hair sticks to your face and he crawls out from under the piano

Right, weren't you two supposed to be playing right now? Isn't his wife about to be home and he's sucking his fingers because they still taste like you?

He helps you off the bench and you stare into the stained cushion but he turns your chin to him before kissing you deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue before breaking it off with a simple

"My wife is on her way...see you in our next session Ms. Y/n"

And you can't wait for next Sunday.

an: lmk how obvious it is idk anything about pianos. This is based on a dream I had last night 😵‍💫🖤 I hope you liked it <333

[ch6sos]

✧.* nanami headcanons <3

He hums/sings while showering and feels embarrassed when confronted about it.

When someone he enjoys talking to speaks to him, he usually appears serious, but his expression is always unreadable. The expression conveys pure fondness for the person!! He enjoys hearing them ramble about their day, their lives, etc. He gives them a warm look.

Definitely a listener more than a rambler. He listens to people all the time, and remembers the small details about them. He tends to bring them up sometimes, which surprises the other person. But, he is extremely attentive to detail and loves getting to know people.

You know how in Korean dramas, the male lead is always a jack of all trades or something? Nanami is exactly that guy. Need assistance with your plumbing? He is there. Do you need to fix a lightbulb? He is there. Need help building a house? He is there.

He plays an instrument. He would play either the piano, violin, or flute.

He definitely enjoys watching movies in his spare time. When he is not doing anything, he enjoys watching movies. If he existed in the modern world, he would for sure have a Letterboxd account.

In a Modern AU, Nanami would undoubtedly be an English/History major. I do not care what anyone says. Maybe philosophy or business. But he would be one of those fine humanities majors you notice and immediately fall for.

Books are his specialty. He probably has several places where he goes to relax and read a book he recently purchased.

Speaking of books, if he gets a partner, he will read to them. He would cuddle them in bed, holding them in his arms while he read silently to them, pressing his lips against their ear, the soft, deep tone of his voice sounding like a musical masterpiece in their ear.

Pottery!! He enjoys pottery so much. He probably went to a pottery event/class when he was bored (he failed, the bowl looked like a deformed apple) but he really enjoyed the process. He definitely began to watch more videos on pottery and probably got himself a pottery wheel.

He is definitely an animal lover. he doesn't look like it, but he loves, LOVES, LOVES animals. If he sees a dog, his heart flutters but he doesn't touch it just in case. But, he's an animal attractor of course. The dogs are all over him at the dog park, and he smiles a little while petting them.

Speaking of animals, he probably has a cat. The cat is named after a food for sure. It is most definitely a type of bread or sandwich or a nut. For example, Pistachio or Baguette.

Super gentle with children. He genuinely enjoys being around them. Ask him about having children He will Be On Board.

HE WOULD NOT BE MEAN. The amount of people I have seen mischaracterize him by making him mean just because he's serious. No. He is just introverted and serious and needs to be comfortable around a person.

During relationships, he genuinely enjoys checking in on the person he is dating. He is always there for them, comforting, cherishing, and listening. He tries to get off work as soon as possible so that he can spend time with his significant other.

If he is shown too much affection, he does not snap or become angry with the person. He just blushes. He just lets out a soft "hm" and pretends to be serious, but his heart is racing, and his cheeks, ears, and neck indicate otherwise. He also gives them a slightly surprised look that quickly turns to his stoic look.

He definitely bought baby shoes at a store just because he thought they were so cute. Mans just wants a baby.

He would be both a girl and a boy dad. I do not care what anyone says; he loves both. If he has a son, he will do everything in his power to raise him as a gentleman while also showing him a lot of love and affection. If he has a daughter, he will be so gentle with her while also raising her to be a sophisticated, strong young woman.

Genuinely would be the grandpa of the friend group. Come on. Just look at him.

As a teenager, he probably would do the emo hair flip thing because his fringe kept getting onto his eye. Gojo probably laughed his ass off.

Secretly really touch-starved. People think he is not affectionate, but he is, just not in public. He would most likely grab his significant other while they were doing something and attack them with kisses. He probably likes being a little spoon sometimes even though he looks like an old man. He is clingy, okay? But not overly clingy. Sometimes he needs his own space.

Loves kissing their partner's beauty moles. The ones under their nose, the ones on their ear, the ones on scattered around their face, the ones in other areas... Wherever they are located, he will kiss them.

Sometimes he needs to be reassured. He needs to know if he is doing okay, if he is treating a person well. It looks like he does not need it, but he genuinely sometimes gets insecure about how others perceive him or how well he treats them. He worries about hurting someone's feelings.

Loves to try and hype up his partner with extreme amount of compliments. He is truly the number one simp and hype man.

I am a strong advocate for the fact that Nanami loves people of color. Like he will date a person of color. I don't CARE. I am Afro-Latina let me have my headcanon in peace : (

Once again. He is NOT mean. He will not yell. If he is angry, he is calm. He does not yell and if he does it is extremely rare. But he would never in his life yell at his partner or children if he has any. The only way he shows disappointment is by staying calm.

Speaking of being angry, he is not the type to show silent treatment. He would much rather talk rather than give a cold shoulder. He is a grown man. He knows how to communicate, people.

Old-fashioned nicknames. That is all. My love. Darling. Sweetheart.

He is probably fluent in several languages. I understand he is overly perfect, but he is perfect in my eyes. He probably takes the time to learn languages so that people feel included. Plus, he genuinely enjoys learning about different cultures.

Owned a bakery or worked as a chef at some point in his life. Maybe even a barista.

Helps old ladies cross the street, assists people with heavy bags, is courteous to his neighbors, and is the grandson of every old neighbor ever.

Probably is the type of guy to sit down on the couch and not try at Just Dance, and ends up winning.

Despite being serious, he would genuinely be bad at the game Among Us. This is so random but hear me out.

Favorite ice cream flavor is probably coffee or pistachio. Maybe even basic vanilla. He is not a big fan anyway.

Jazz music, classical music, old music is his speciality. In high school during his emo hair era he more so listened to 90s rock/punk rock.

His most used app(s) on his Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra is WhatsApp and Candy Crush.

Definitely has a whole closet of clothing and browses through them every night to see what suit he wants to wear for the next day.

When he shops or gets food, he goes to local family owned shops. He does not go to Starbucks for his coffee. He goes to the local family owned coffee shop.

Dry texter but if he gets a partner who is not a dry texter, he genuinely begins to pick up their habits. If they type with emojis he begins using emojis. I apologize but he'd unironically use the laughing crying emoji. "Haha! 😂". Okay but genuinely, he would actually keyboard slam at some point. He sends them a photo, they go like "jshekehdkehdjdlsjdl" and one time they did the same thing and he was like:

"....Kshskshdjxbsnab." You know?

He is low key sassy. He was affected by sassy man apocalypse. He hides it in that serious exterior of his but he gives the biggest side eyes sometimes, crosses his legs too.

Snores like a dad. Bro was probably recorded by Haibara while he was in the dorms and bro was snoring like a regular ol dad. Drooling too. What a silly guy.

Anyway...

Overall, the best man ever. He is the man ever and that is why he is not real. Unfortunately.

forever angel <33

[spicycinnabun]

another ficlet from the same verse as i’m sorry, christofern 🪴

~

Eddie unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He couldn’t breathe. The waiter was sneering down at him—at his piercings, tattoos, fingernails blackened with polish and chipping. He didn’t belong at this fine establishment, and it was noticeable to everyone.

The piano man was going to town playing a Beethoven Sonata near their table, and Eddie was this close to shoving him off the bench and showing him how to play some real fucking music.

But Steve was also sitting across from him, looking suave with his hair combed back like an old Hollywood movie star. He was beaming at Eddie, and Eddie was helpless to it.

Even if the menu was giving him a goddamn heart attack, and he was trying not to keel over behind it as Steve ordered the lobster bisque—to start.

Eddie ordered the garden salad.

Steve gave him a weird look. “You sure that's what you want? I thought you didn't like salad.”

“I’m sure,” Eddie said. The salad wouldn't demolish his wallet like any of the things that actually sounded good. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Eating healthier.”

“Uh-huh. You’re already as skinny as a string bean. I don't think you need to eat healthier. You probably need to eat more."

“No can do. I’ve become a slut for vegetables.” Eddie grinned. It was maniacal. “Can't resist a big, juicy cucumber in my mouth.”

The waiter left, looking deeply disturbed, and Steve kicked him under the table, blushing. “Eddie! Jesus.”

“What? Can't a man freely express his joy for deepthroating gourds?”

Steve choked on his water, putting the glass down hastily as he coughed. “You’re such a…” He didn't finish that sentence, but Eddie could fill in the blank.

💚🌱🌿💚

Their first course came, and Eddie pretended to like his salad.

“Yeah, you really look like you're into that,” Steve said, stirring his soup.

Eddie swallowed hard. “It’s absolutely succulent, Steven, thank you.”

He absolutely hated it. The slimy vinaigrette, too.

“Oh, man. Look at that string of pearls,” Steve said, letting it go as he pointed over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d like one of those.”

Usually, Eddie was the one lacking manners. “Kinda rude to point at people, baby.”

Also, pearls? Eddie was going to be in the red right after this dinner. He hoped Steve wasn’t expecting those any time soon.

Steve laughed, dropping his hand on the table. “No, I’m not. Look.”

Eddie turned in his chair, then groaned in realization when he saw what was hanging from the ceiling.

Steve wasn’t pointing at some woman wearing a pearl necklace. He was geeking out over a fucking plant. Even in public, he was a devoted plant daddy.

“We can get you one of those,” Eddie told him. Steve wanted a pearl plant? Done.

Steve leaned back in his seat, assessing him with his warm brown gaze. Eddie tried not to squirm. “What?”

“You don't like it here.”

Eddie balked. “I like it fine—” he started, then deflated a little under Steve’s skeptical eyebrow quirk. “Okay, I don't like it here. But you do, right?”

“It actually kinda reminds me of my parents.” Steve’s nose wrinkled. “I just wanted to have a good time with you and treat you to something special, but it backfired on me.”

Oh. Hell.

“Hey, it didn't backfire, sweetheart,” Eddie told him, voice low. His hand twitched. He wanted to reach across the table for Steve’s but knew he couldn’t—especially not here. Here, they were no more than friends.

“You wanna ditch and go get a pizza?” Steve asked, nails scratching along the crisp white tablecloth like he was thinking the same thing. “We can catch the next creature feature at the drive-in. Eat on the hood of my car?”

Eddie sighed, feeling his entire self relax. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let’s go.”

They grinned at each other and got up, slinging on their coats. They paid for their half-eaten meals. Neither of them tipped the snooty waiter.

Steve caught his hand in the parking lot as they walked to his car. It was risky, but the walk was less than a minute. They linked fingers.

[plum-writes]

Black Noir x Piano!Player!Reader

Summary: Black Noir is known for having a knack of taking over the piano when anyone from your agency is sent to play for Vought. You’ve been warned of this, and although you have played for Vought before, you’ve never come across the mysterious hero. Something you are very grateful for. But your luck can only last for so long.

A/n: this baby doesn’t get enough love so I had to write something xx

Your fingers were on autopilot as they played the music for the prestigious party. Your ears mindlessly listened to the gossip and conversations around you as you played. The music was rather somber, the conversations consisting of information you’d rather not ever know, and no one was really paying attention otherwise to the notes you played. No one ever did, really.

The music at these Vought parties served as a filler. It was there to ward off any awkward moments, and fill a light vibe in the air between the many governing officials that more or less put up fake appearances when interacting with each other. It was just background noise to the dull, materialistic atmosphere that surrounded the party. You had done this same routine every time you were scheduled to play for Vought, and almost every time things went the same.

You got hired to play at a party by Vought for 5 hours, sitting all night long at the piano, and had a 30 minute break in between your hours. The same routine you followed whenever you were booked by Vought. No one came to check up on you throughout the party, or really make sure you were playing the music, and you were in charge of making sure you didn’t skip your break.

So it wouldn’t hurt to kick things up a bit now, would it? Not like anyone would notice, or more likely care, would they?

Your fingers fluidly transferred the slow melody into an upbeat one, your hands now dancing over the keys instead of gliding over them, a jubilant tune washing over the party. You let a little smile break your professional exterior, and your rod straight posture used when playing, relaxed slightly. As expected, no one turned around at the change of the music, too invested in their conversations to notice or care. And a little selfishly, you preferred it this way.

You played on and on, taking this opportunity to practice some music you had been rehearsing on your downtime, those moments being the only times where you spared a glance towards Madelyn Stilwell and the other Vought officials, seeing if they noticed you weren’t playing the pieces of music they requested of you. Of course, they didn’t even so much as twitch their heads in your direction, and your posture relaxed some more, this comfort allowing you to play the unapproved music for longer than what was allowed. But no harm, no foul right? No one noticed you going off script, so why not take advantage. If only you knew about the hidden eyes that were watching you from the shadows.

After about an hour of passing the time indulging yourself, you fell into the light flow of music again and went back to the scheduled sheets of music. You huffed slightly, a little disappointed at having to quit the lively tunes, but keeping the self satisfied little smile plastered on your face as you played on. After all, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to play something else other than the same 12 melodies.

So yet again, you fell into the muscle memory of the notes, eyes glazing over in the disassociation that came with doing a repetitive action, mindlessly humming the notes lowly to yourself. So blissfully oblivious and unassuming of your surroundings at the time. So when looking back at this moment in the future, you would want to slap yourself for not noticing the approaching figure that had snuck up next to you. Because you really should’ve with how many times you had been warned.

You quickly choked on your hum when you felt the weight of someone else sit down next to you on the bench, and your ghost of a smile immediately vanished when you spotted the black combat boots placed closely to your own black professional shoes.

You knew exactly who it was.

How couldn’t you?

He was somewhat infamous to you piano players who were always scheduled for Vought. The many tales of Black Noir’s taking over the piano when someone was playing for the party was one too many. Thomas, a man who played for Vought more than you, warned you many times about Black Noir’s tendencies.

“Aye, he has a knack for sitting down next to you, and just waiting for you to leave.”

You swallowed to yourself now, hating how you were in the same position right this second, your body quickly feeling a buzz that urged you to run. The only thing stopping you was the memory of the next words Thomas had told you.

“Don’t fight him on the piano if it ever happens to you, lass.” His face was uncharacteristically serious, dulled down with a grim expression, his Scottish accent losing the playful hitch it always had. It scared you a bit, quite honestly, never having seen Thomas act this way.

You had tilted your head at Thomas then, looking down, and thinking about it at the time. Of course, you would never fight Noir on the piano if he had ever done what he had done to every other piano player that played for Vought. You were so scared of the advantage supes had on you that you equated fighting any average C-List supe to fighting Homelander. But the way Thomas talked about it, holding a more serious tone rather than a bitter one of having to give away their working time just cause a supe demanded gave you a more chilling feeling than anything about them.And when Thomas had continued, it just solidified your thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter if he butts in just two hours after you started playing, and you don’t get paid for the rest of the night- It’s better not to cause any problems at Vought, lassie.”

God, did you ever agree with Thomas right now more than you ever have before.

You were tense, so tense next to Back Noir, playing with a rigid frame, and resolutely keeping your eyes on the sheet of music in front of you even though you didn’t even need to read it. Your heart was beating fast and you wondered minutely if he could hear it before scratching that thought out of your brain, and finishing the rest of the notes of the melody. The keys faded out, the music slowly dying, and you rested your hands on the keys for a few more moments after the song ended before raising them up. There was another beat of silence as you sat impeccably still, and his eyes burned the side of your face.

You turned towards him with a stiff neck, heart jumping at seeing him already looking at you. It made your hands tremble, and you clenched yours fists tight as you forced the words out of your mouth as you gestured to the piano with a small flick of your eyes. “I- it’s all yours, sir.”

You got up, trying not to make it obvious that you were in a haste to leave and at the same time trying to get the fuck away from him as fast as possible, but a gloved hand gripping your wrist had you paralyzed again.

Your breath stopped. Why? You screamed to yourself. This never happened to anyone else, Black Noir always let them leave without any struggle, what is so different about now??

You gave a trembling gasp, and turned towards Black Noir calmly. You gave him what you hoped was an inquisitive look, but you knew yourself too well to know it was anything but. Especially because he was looking at you dead in the eyes, his black mask creating an unnerving stare that you tried your best to meet. Your head snapped down at his hand that gently placed a little piece of paper on the piano keys.

‘keep playing’

You felt your breath slowly release itself, and you looked towards him again. He was still staring at you in the same way as before, but this time you felt a little less threatened.

It’s okay, it’s okay, he didn’t threaten you, and there’s too many witnesses for him to do something, right?

After a few moments of calming yourself you slowly nodded at him, your once fleeting stance relaxing some. He released his hold on your wrist, and you turned towards the keys immediately with a seat, sitting down a few more inches away from him. Your body felt a bit more grounded, and face turning more composed. Your heart was still racing, but one glance towards the person next to you let you know that he could honestly care less about that. Just play, that’s all you have to do and then he’ll leave you alone. With another deep breath that you would later chastise yourself for being so obvious, your hands started pressing down on the keys, and you resumed playing the songs Vought gave you. Though, the melody hardly went past the first eight notes because you quickly stopped when a hand reached out to grab your wrist again, this time harder to stop your from playing. You abruptly stopped with a fearful gasp, and harsh press of the keys that had some people glancing over before they looked away again.

You internally screamed to yourself, knowing that if Noir suddenly decided that he didn’t want to be so calm, no one would come to your help. You don’t allow yourself to know much about supes, but you know that they get away with almost anything.

Your head snapped up at him, and you couldn’t even hide the fear written all over your face if you tried. He placed another note next to your hands.

‘Play what you were playing before’

What the fuck? You desperately thought to yourself, immediately racking your brain for what he could mean. Is he talking about the song I played before he told me to sit back down-?

‘Not the Vought songs Play from before’

You had a look of realization on your face before you looked up at him again. He was looking at you straight in the eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush for just a second.

He heard you playing your other songs??

You felt like crawling under a rock, because dammit you thought no one had noticed you indulging in your guilty pleasure of being unnoticed at these parties to stray off script- something that would surely get you in the hot seat since Vought was notorious to always making sure everyone was sticking to directions. Instead, you swallowed the newfound terror stick in your throat and, nodded once again and turned back to the keys.

You were still so tense, your heart was still beating against your chest like a sledgehammer and you felt the weight of Black Noir’s presence weighing so heavily on your head that it felt impossible to play right now. But even so, you forced yourself to.

Your hands started dancing over the keys again, and the only reprieve you felt in this suffocating situation was that you had to focus more intently on the notes since they came from memory, and it helped you ignore the person sitting next to you. As time passed, you got more and more comfortable, and you eventually fell into a steady rhythm, transitioning into the different melodies with more emotion now. Everything started to feel a bit more natural, and a little less forced.

Next to you, you noticed how Noir leaned his head back slightly, sitting up almost as rod straight as you were, hands resting on his thighs as he slightly swayed his head to the music. You could see him tapping his fingers along to the notes on his thighs, almost as if he were playing on the keys and not you. He was listening to the music. He was listening to you play the music.

It made you more nervous than you’d like to feel right now.

Especially when people started now glancing at you two.

You could imagine the picture you two made, with Noir clearly enjoying the music with a lax posture, and you with your rigid one, fingers flying over the keys with your pale face. You would’ve laughed with how comical and absurd this all was if you weren’t solely involved in this.

You’re grateful when Madelyn Stillwell comes over and puts on her PR smile, informing Black Noir that he is needed for a charity event, notably meeting your eyes when she says this.

Yes, yes, take him. I won’t keep him from you.

You keep playing as she tells him, just lightly pressing down on the keys so as to not play over their conversation, eyes resolutely staying away from them. You do feel Black Noir turn towards you, his eye grazing your side profile, and you try not to look up once again.

“C’mon, Noir. I’m sure you’ll see her very soon again, we don’t want to bother her any longer.” Madelyn’s voice carry’s over you like a cold chill, making you shudder and clench your jaw even tighter.

She talks about you like you’re not even there, and she talks to Noir like a child- no. More like a dog, you conclude. Her mother knows best tone grates on your nerves, and you can hear the demanding undertone it carry’s when she talks to him.

You don’t know why you feel for him at this moment, why you feel for all supes that have to always be on a tight schedule for publicity. It doesn’t last long when you remember they’re supes and will always have more privileges than you and everyone else you know.

So you’re not too torn up when Noir gets up, and turns to follow Ms. Stillwell. They both leave you alone at the piano, playing with tense fingers and not even bothering to care about the timing you come in nor about how you press the keys too harshly and lightly at some points. You’re finally able to breathe, able to relax without a killing machine sitting next to you.

You’d say you’re allowed some leverage on your poor playing.

You sneak a look at the clock on your wrist, and finally let out your shuddering sigh of relief.

Only two more hours, and you can go home.

Only two more hours.

*

Once the two hour mark hits, you’re closing up with a small, light melody. One that you admittedly rush through, and as soon as the last note hits, you don’t wait for it to reverberate all the way before you’re closing the lid of the piano and getting up. You push in the bench, and straighten your work suit as you rush to the exit doors.

You walk briskly to it, smiling quickly, and nodding your appreciation to the few people who half meaninglessly praise your playing. You open the doors of the room with a desperate push, greeting the muted hallway like it’s your savior.

You feel so much better already.

You go to the elevator, and as the doors are closing you don’t know why you expect Black Noir to come out at this moment, but you do. You’ve been feeling it ever since he sat down next to you, expecting him to influence a preemptive event after all this, and you wait with baited breath as the doors close. Your stomach is turning in anxiety and fear, and you’re just waiting for the moment he comes in and- shit, you don’t even know- kill you or something. It’s something you’d most expect to happen at these Vought parties.

You were paid to much attention to to not have something happen, right?

The doors close without any interruption, though, and you go down to the bottom floor alone without anything happening. You immediately walk outside when you reach your designated floor, not wanting to push your luck. You don’t heed the front desk clerk who is wishing you a good night, feeling a bit rude but needing to get home as soon as possible.

You get in your car and practically race home, driving a little over the speeding limit, and swerving your turns. When you reach your house, the porch light still on, and nothing looking too disturbed, you park in the driveway and sit in your car for a few moments in the dark.

This is when you feel like you can breathe.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you feel a bit better. When you had came home last night you reasoned to yourself that things weren’t really as bad as it had felt in the moment. I mean, Noir could’ve done a lot worse, couldn’t he? And he would’ve if he wanted to surely, maybe he just really liked your playing and that’s why he decided to stay by your side for who knows how long. You got lucky, luckier than most anyone you knew.

So when you sit at your table, little dog rubbing by your feet, and a steaming cup of coffee blowing against your face, you don’t feel lucky when you open your phone and see new text messages in your box from multiple people. There’s one from Thomas, one from your hard ass boss, and one from an unknown number. They all vary in tones that an anxiety fueled pit twists your stomach. You open them before you can think, hoping that reading this messages will calm your cramping stomach. It doesn’t.

Thomas: Lassie, what’d you do?? Everyone’s going bonkers right now

Giovanni Cruz(boss): You must’ve made quite the impression at Vought. Good job, this is the type of work I’m expecting.

Impression? Your stomach dropped, and you looked at the message from the unknown number, seeing part of it in the little notification box. Before you can allow yourself to stay scared, you open the text message.

Unknown: Congratulations! Vought was very impressed by your piano skills, and our Party Planning Committee has decided to book you for all of our events this fall. Here are the dates and times, along with the prices we are offering…

You didn’t even bother to finish reading the whole text message, your phone slipping from your hands, and thumping onto the table. You were motionless, your hand limply hanging in the air where you were holding your phone, and eyes wide and unblinking as you just processed what the fuck Vought had sent you.

After a while, you started laughing.

Because when you would go back to play for Vought three weeks later, and you played a new sheet of music filled with the songs you had played for Noir last time, you didn’t even have to feel his gaze to know he was the one who wanted you back.

And when he sat down next to you on the bench, content to listen as you played, you were surprised to find yourself less tense. Less scared. You didn’t think he’d hurt you.

You hoped you weren’t wrong.

***

Thank you so much for reading <3<3 Thinking about doing a part two but idkkk, maybe🤭

[yourstrqly]

★ . . . 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐏𝐆𝟏𝟎

pairing: pierre gasly x gf!reader

in which you want to welcome your boyfriend home with a plate of his favourite cake but he craves the sweetness of you more

warning: kitchen sex, penetrative sex, bare (wrap it if you don't want babies!), french nickname for reader ( ma minette = my kitten), just a small smut for my fav french fucker

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!

the kitchen looked like a tiny battlefield as you searched the drawers for cinnamon, which was needed for your boyfriend's favourite cake. in the background softly played piano music, creating a relaxed atmosphere; it was your ideal afternoon and in just under 30 minutes pierre would walk through the front door of your shared apartment.

time flies, the cake baked in the oven whilst you cleaned the counters, deep in thoughts which resulted in not hearing the man of the house coming home.

pierre smiled at your swaying figure, entertaining the thought of you having a child, his mini me or yours, besides you excitingly telling you about the day — he'd loved to being the father of your children but that would have to wait for another year or so as he wanted to focus on your relationship a bit more. his eyes darted over your body, spotting a white tee of his, kinda see-through if he was being honest, and if this wouldn't turn him on, then nothing else could. the French was a sucker for you and after two weeks of being separated from you, he'll do anything to fuck you now and later make love to you in your shared bed.

but for now he was going to fuck you in this kitchen as his way of welcoming you back in his arms. he just had to have you now.

a gasp left you as you felt something, someone pressing against your back, striking heat, and a bulge hidden under the rough jeans fabric rubbing against your ass. you immediately fell backwards, lowering your head against your man's shoulder to catch his eyes.

"how i've missed you, ma minette", pierre mumbled against your ear, his hand tracing along your jawline down to your breasts while watching you fall apart by the second. "to see you quiver under my touch."

he stepped away from you, quickly undressing himself as you catch your breath, holding onto the cold stone. then he grabbed the hem of your panties to pull them down your hips, letting you step out of it, and kicked it away. you could already guess what was coming next, based on the strong arm around your stomach and his hot length rubbing against your legs.

the french rumbled behind you, feeling your wetness gathered around the head of his cock even though he hadn't entered you yet.

you waited, feeling desperate for him, desperate to be close to him again, to have him inside you, so you trust a bit back; pierre gripped your hips and rushed his length in your cunt, groaning loudly as a nasty squelch chimed though the kitchen. you're no better, moaning in relief and arousal at the feeling of his hard cock plunging into you over and over again, going at a rapid speed that has you grip the edge of the counter tightly. his need of you reaches out to you, as he worked his body almost frantically — you needed him just the same.

one of pierre's hands returned to your breasts to stimulate them in turns, drawing circles against the swell of your soft flesh and pulling on your hard nipples. his cock inside you felt wide and long, hitting your spots just too good.

your clit throbbed, hungry for attention, and pierre, a man knowing which buttons to press, slid his hand down your stomach to your pussy. his fingertips landed on the slick bundle of nerves, fingers rubbing over it, playing you like a piano. the French knew exactly how to please you and it was mere moments before you felt your orgasm approaching. you shrudder as it nears, moaning and whining as the rough fingers pinched and rubbed against your clit, his thick length bullying its way inside, just to leave his fat tip in your cunt — then he plunged deeply into you again, making you see the stars and getting a groan out of you, a sound he loved to hear, tipping him over the edge.

[justallmyfantasies]

usage of his piano

piano, piano, piano.

series masterlist

contains: 18+ smut! (unprotected p-in-v)

word count: 2.4k

MINORS DONT INTERACT!

the side of the bed next to you was cold, had been for the last few nights. you felt alone. all you wanted was to lie in bed with your husband, alex and just sleep next to him with his warmth against you. but instead of that, he was cooped up in the office in your house working on a new album for his band.

obviously you were proud of alex, seriously you were. you couldn’t express it any other way. but this was frustrating for you, hardly seeing him, hardly speaking to him. it just started to feel like you were just in this house all by yourself.

you’d make dinner every night for the both of you, only for his to go cold. alex hated missing out on working on a new song just to go and do something else. if he had an idea, he’d had to get it done right there, right now.

but this was a repeating cycle every night. he would promise to come to bed with you then end up not. instead, he’d fall asleep on the chair in his office and wake up midday.

you had tried your best to get him to notice you again, you missed the way he looked at you, the way his hands felt on you, the way would always play with your hair when you were cuddling, you just missed him.

but explaining this to him wasn’t the easiest, he would easily get frustrated and say that he’s just doing what he loves. you knew that, you were proud of him, like you had told him many times.

so after a while, you stopped going in there to check on him, to ask when he was gonna head to bed, to tell him food is done. it was a waste of time. but of course you still loved him. he was your husband after all, you still cared about him you just wondered if he did with you.

one evening, you were sat on the sofa. your legs propped up on the poof and a tv remote in hand. you were flicking through the different channels. you had been for the past half hour. usually, alex would pick what to watch. you hadn’t got a clue what was the latest thing that was trending on tv. after a while you decided to go up to the office. after all, you missed him.

you quickly knocked on the office, checking if you were okay to come in. you hated disturbing him.

“baby?” you called out. waiting for an answer.

you heard a sigh, not an annoyed sigh but a tired one. “come in.” he answered.

you opened the door to see alex sat at his piano, the look on his face making you wonder if he actually had been sleeping lately. what a stupid question, of course he hadn’t.

“i just wanted to see if you were okay.” you said, making his eyes twitch up to look at you. he smiled faintly and nodded.

“i’m okay.” he replied. “album is frustrating me out.” he sighed.

you leaned against the door frame, folding your arms as you looked at him. “alex, you look exhausted.”

he sighed again as he turned back to his piano, his fingers running over the keys. “yeah, i know. i haven’t really slept much these days.”

you took a step into the room, your gaze flickering over the scattered sheets of music. “you’ve been working yourself too hard again.”

he shrugged. “it’s just this new song, love. i can’t get it right. it’s irritating me more than usual.”

you walked over to him, standing behind him. you placed your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging him. “your shoulders are so tense. don’t you think you should take a break?”

he let out a sigh at your touch, relaxing his shoulders. he leaned his head back and looked up at you, his tired eyes meeting your concerned ones. “i can’t stop right now. but i’ll make it up to you later.”

you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “you always say that, and you never come to bed.”

alex winced a bit, knowing you were right. he reached up and grabbed your hand, pulling you into his lap. he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest.

“i really am sorry, baby. you know i am. it’s just this song is driving me crazy.” he murmured, his voice muffled against your shirt.

you threaded your fingers through his hair, your thumb gently rubbing his temple. “i know you’re sorry. i know how passionate you are about your music, love. i know how important this album is to you.”

you gently grabbed his chin, making him look up at you. you could feel the stubble of his beard growing. “but i miss you. i miss having you in our bed, next to me.”

his face frowned, he felt guilty. “i’m sorry, i am. i do miss yo-“ but before he could continue, your lips crashed onto his in a desperate need.

he made a surprised noise, but he returned the kiss almost immediately. he pulled you closer, his arms circling tighter around your waist. it had been so long since he had felt your lips on his.

he was desperate for your kiss, his lips moving greedily against yours as he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap properly, straddling him.

you ran your fingers through his hair as the kiss deepened. his hands slid under your shirt, his touch burning your skin. his tongue traced your lower lip, pleading access to your mouth.

you parted your lips for him, letting him explore the warmth of your mouth. his touch against you was like fire and you couldn’t get enough. you tugged on his hair making him let out a low moan.

his lips left yours, trailing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. his beard slightly tickling your skin. he nipped at your skin gently, his fingers pressing into your hips. you let out a soft sigh, arching your body into him, silently begging him for more.

he could feel the heat between your legs, his hips instinctively bucked against yours. he was aching for you, aching to touch and feel you. he needed you, and if he was being completely honest, he had been craving your touch.

he pulled your shirt off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. his hands roamed over your bare skin, his lips finding their way back to your neck. "i've missed you.." he breathed against your skin.

you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand slipping under his shirt. you wanted to feel his skin against yours. you pushed his shirt off, his chest now bared to you. you pressed kisses on his collarbone, your teeth grazing over his skin.

he let out a shaky moan, his hands moving up to your breasts, his thumb rubbing over your hardened nipple. he shifted his hips, pulling you closer to him. "i need you.."

you moved your lips to his ear, gently nipping on his earlobe. "then have me." you whispered in his ear, feeling him shiver.

he grabbed you and flipped you onto the piano, his body hovering over yours. he leaned down, his lips trailing down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake until he reached your hips.

his fingers hooked under the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them off with the underwear, tossing them behind him. he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "you're so beautiful.. so perfect." he murmured, his hands running over your thighs. he pushed your legs apart, making space for himself between them.

your body ached for him, your skin burning under his touch. you reached up to pull him down for a kiss, your lips meeting his in a hungry, needy kiss. his tongue traced your lower lip, his hips pressing against your core.

"alex.." you breathed, breaking away from the kiss. you could feel him, hard and aching against you. "i need you, now."

he let out a shaky breath, nodding. he needed you just as much. he didn't know why he had been so dumb to not touch you for so long. you were perfect, the most beautiful person in the world for him. he quickly removed his pants, pushing them off the piano.

he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours. he looked down at you, his eyes meeting your gaze and his hands gripping your hips.

he leaned down and kissed you, his tongue tangling with yours as he slowly pushed into you. you let out a soft moan, your hands gripping his shoulders. it had been so long since you had him like this that it felt like the first time again.

he groaned in pleasure as he pushed further into you, his lips finding their way to your neck, kissing, sucking and biting on your skin. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until he was all the way inside of you.

he let out a shaky moan, his hands gripping your hips harder. he started to move slowly, his pace slow and steady. you could feel every inch of him inside of you and it was driving you crazy. you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling his head up so you could kiss him.

he responded eagerly, his lips moving against yours in a desperate kiss. his tongue slipping into your mouth, his hands wandering over your body, tracing over your curves.

he started to move faster, the sounds of moans and gasps filling the room. he was getting lost in the heat of the moment, in the way you felt under him, in the way you gripped his shoulders, in the way you were looking at him. he had never felt this way before, so completely and utterly consumed by you.

he broke away, panting. "say my name." he murmured, his voice low and deep.

"alex.." you breathed, your head falling back against the piano as he started to move faster.

he groaned, his thrusts becoming harder and more frantic. he loved the way you said his name. "i can’t hear you, love.” he teased. of course he could hear you.

"alex..." you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. he was hitting just the right spot, his body perfectly molded against yours. it felt so good, so right. "don't stop, please don't stop." you whispered, arching your back off the piano. he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, his pace getting faster.

you could feel your orgasm building, your body quivering with pleasure. you clung to him, your hips bucking against his. he was driving you insane, making you feel things you never knew were possible. he was the only one who could make you feel this way, the only one who could make you feel so good.

he broke the kiss, his head falling down to your neck. he let out a low moan against your skin, his body starting to shiver. he was so close, so close to climax. he just needed a little bit more.

"i'm so close, love.” he panted, his hands gripping your hips. he could feel you clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

you let out a gasp, your nails digging deeper into his skin. you were right there, so close to the edge. you could hear his breaths getting heavier, his body shaking with effort. "i can't hold on much longer.." he groaned against your neck.

"look at me." he murmured, his fingers tangled in your hair making you look up at him. his eyes were dark, filled with desire and need. he wanted to see your face as you came undone.

you looked into his eyes, your body on the brink of release. you could feel it building, the pressure almost too much. his intense gaze was making you feel even more vulnerable and exposed, yet you loved it. you wanted him to see everything, to see how he made you feel.

"you're so beautiful.." he said, "just let go, baby. come for me." he whispered, his hands caressing your body.

his words were all it took to push you over the edge. a loud moan escaped your lips as your body shook with pleasure, your release washing over you like a wave. he watched you, his eyes never leaving your face as you clung to him, your vision going white. he had never seen anything more beautiful.

he gave one more hard thrust before he came undone too, his face burying into your neck as he let out a low moan. you could feel his body shudder against yours, his breathing ragged and heavy. he held onto you tightly, like he never wanted to let go. he had needed this, needed you. he was a fool to have gone so long without you.

the both of you lay there for a few moments, too exhausted to move. his body was still on top of you, his head resting on your chest. you tangled your fingers his hair, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

you both layed there in silence for a while, the only sound in the room was your breathing. finally, alex broke the silence.

"i love you." he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin.

your heart skipped a beat at his words. it had been so long since he had said that to you. it almost made you tear up hearing it again.

you ran your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. "i love you too." you whispered back. “also, never did i ever think you would fuck me on this piano.” you laughed.

alex let out a light laugh, his head lifting to look at you. "i've had a couple thoughts about it here and there," he admitted, a sly grin on his face.

you giggled and swatted his shoulder. "you're terrible." you teased, shaking your head at him.

he chuckled, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. "but you love me." he said with a smirk, his hand rubbing your hip.

you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "unfortunately." you joked, but you couldn't help the smile on your face.

[izvmimi]

cw: female anatomy, period talk (no blood mention), smut elements, minors dni.

you lay in a dark room, arms tight around a body pillow, the end tucked tightly between your thighs. you've been mostly immobile for the last thirty minutes and irritated from the constant throb in your lower belly. you're sick of this.

your period's hitting you especially hard for whatever reason and the ibuprofen you just took ten minutes ago is taking longer than it should to hit. no relief exists, no position feels comfortable or right.

you're too busy trying to drown out your discomfort in loud guitar blasting through your headphones to realize your favorite person is watching you.

"what's wrong, baby?" his voice doesn't cut clear enough over the music and it's only when he approaches and taps your ankle, tangled a thin blanket, that you open your eyes and realize he's there.

"oh... hi," you answer weakly.

izuku gives you a once over, frowning slightly, then leans forward, shielding your eyes with a hand before he turns on the lamp atop the end table on your side of the bed. he looks again over your body carefully, and your own eyes follow him.

"i'm fine," you mumble.

he twists his mouth to the side, then kneels at your bedside so that he's at your eye level.

"cramps?" he asks.

you nod.

he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"did you take medicine?"

you nod. he pats your head gently for a moment and gives you an empathetic smile. you hold his gaze for a second and then he breaks it hesitantly, disappearing into the bathroom to wash dirt, grime, and whatever else he's picked up in the business of rescuing and regulating, then makes his way back to you just as quickly.

warm and fresh, he fits himself in the space around you, adjusting to the curve of your body, and slowly peeling the blankets off of you so that he is close enough that your legs graze together in your pajama shorts and his chin nuzzles close to yours.

you feel his breath on your neck, allowing the quiet closeness to soothe you. his hand makes its way around your waist, and lowers, pressing itself gently on your lower belly. scarred palms rub as gently as they can on the throbbing pain. he kisses your neck and you sigh.

"tell me if i'm not helping."

your hand covers his and presses harder and you can feel him laugh, the rumble run through both of your bodies. a smile creeps up on your lips.

"you're always helping," you whisper softly. he presses against you still closer, and you let go of your body pillow, casting it aside.

"can i move you?" he asks, gently kissing the skin of your shoulder. you nod again, and he moves you gently, pulling you into his direction. his hand presses against your lower belly still, and he watches for your reaction. your lip quivers and he kisses the lower one, then lets his hand travel lower, slipping below the hem of your cotton shorts. you bite your lip as he waits for your approval. your eyes tell him to go lower, and he does, an index finger tracing the split of your vulva. the touch makes you shudder and he stops.

"no, keep going..." you murmur despite yourself.

he rises to sitting and positions you slowly so that you're on your back. your legs part, as he hangs above you and a finger slips inside you. you whimper, and his free hand moves up your shirt to your neck, and he kisses the skin in between sore breasts.

softly, softly, softly, his fingers tease you apart until your focus is less on waves of pain and more on the drag of one, then two fingers along your walls, the tap of pads of fingers playing clit and all like piano music, the passage of his tongue on your skin. you gasp as you reach crescendo and again, he smiles, satisfied at the deepening of your complexion, expression that is lethargic not from pain but from a soothing pleasure and relaxation.

it's enough to send him into ecstasy himself but tonight he's focused on you. he continues to pamper you with soft words and tongues until you're relaxed and your arms reach for him to hold you close.

"stop being so good to me," you speak softly into his chest.

"never."

you laugh finally, and he's more pleased than anything.

[wonwooslibrary]

svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition

member: joshua x reader genre: established relationship, bullet points word count: 738 summary: joshua's boyfriend things ;) warnings: mentions of food and i think that's it! let me know if i missed anything! author's note: y'all i am almost two whole days late with this oh god it keeps getting worse. i am...very tired haha i've been working a lot to build up some money while i'm not in school so yeah. i lowkey forgot about joshua/taehyung day until i opened twitter and saw people talking abt shua and i was like WAIT THAT IS TODAY anyway moral of the story i'm tired and need a break but here is the joshua fic we've all been waiting for! ily all and enjoy <3

He lowkey gives the vibes of like. The foreign exchange student bf with a relationship with a deadline 

He’s the silly bf!!! 

He’s also one of the members I see the least as a boyfriend so this is going to be interesting to write…

Quality Time 

Mans is a fan of everything fr !!! He absolutely loves spending time with you and your shared group of friends 

Loves doing silly little activities with you like making bracelets and painting 

He might just be the artsy bf we all want 

Joshua loves to go to different places with you like thrift stores, arcades, cafes, literally anything as long as he is with you <3

Loves the feeling of mixing his friend groups - the day you meet his friends aka his brothers he will be imploding with love for everyone 

Is the “i get bored easily” bf so y’all gotta be doing like ten different things at once 

Will totally ask you to dance or just close your eyes and be with him when a slow song comes on at a party / get together / playing music at home 

Words of Affirmation

You totally call him Joshy or Shua and he loves every minute of it bc he thinks it’s cute 

“Darling, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?” SCREECHING 

Believes the relationship revolves around pet names (ie. baby, sweetie, darling) he's adorable 

Is always proud of you and encouraging!!! 

Likes to leave little notes for you around the house. Maybe by your favorite drink in the fridge that reads, “I got these for you. stay hydrated, love” 

At the beginning of the relationship he was so formal with you, that it took him saying “I love you” for the first time to relax for five seconds LOL 

Physical Touch

Joshua loves handholding ‼️

This man always wants to have some sort of contact with you, whether that be holding hands, linking fingers or rubbing your back

Loves having you sit on his lap or lay your legs across his 

His go-to move when you are in public is linking your pinkies together (how cute :3) 

Leans on you when he laughs because he cannot sit still 

I feel like Joshua would like. move his fingers on your leg in the way of playing piano keys but with guitar if that makes sense? Like where the frets are? Idk

Is also the type to be scared of touching you in front of others until you explicitly tell him that it's okay

Acts of Service 

Loves doing the chores for you

“Hey, baby, I'm gonna fill my water bottle. Do you need me to fill yours?” 

Or even a, “hey i borrowed your car, but i filled the tank before bringing it back” we love a man who can afford to fill a vehicle’s tank at this point in time

Likes to bring you lunch once or twice a week --- he’ll make it himself and pack it in a cute little bag and everything 

Helps you in little ways like folding the laundry or helping you pick out outfits on those days that you struggle to do anything 

Is always there for you when literally anything happens. You need someone to help fix your car? He’s on the phone finding a shop. You can’t reach a high shelf or your back hurts too much to bend down to get something from a low cupboard? He’s right there ready to help

Gift Giving 

I touched on this a tiny bit earlier but !! handmade jewelry omg he would make matching bracelets for y’all or even a necklace or earrings for you if bracelets interfere with your job

Always buys little trinkets that remind him of you or your relationship 

“Hey I found this little glass rose decoration and it reminded me of the time i got you flowers when i asked you out the first time” 

HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE CUTE SHY SMILE WHEN HE GIVES YOU SOMETHING TOO as if you’ll ever tell him that you dislike something he got for you 

He would also love if you gave him gifts too like, “hey joshy I got this little container that can help you keep your beads organized” and he’s melt into a puddle of goo onto your living room floor 

Also gets something for you (usually your favorite snack or drink) when you’re especially sad or stressed out - like a super gift instead of his regular daily gifts or something 

Idk just know he’s really sweet and enjoys crafting

[aloysiavirgata]

What do you think Scully and Mulder would disagree on as parents? A prompt, if you will.

Scully wanted schedules. Meal plans. Calendars. She wanted piano lessons on Thursdays, swim lessons on Mondays, and labeled bins for the Legos and Thomas train cars. She wanted whole grains and bento boxes and clothes from Boden and Hanna Andersson and Tea Collection. Vacations in the Galapagos and the Grand Canyon. She wanted - in her most secret heart - for him to be the star of the soccer or lacrosse teams. Or both.

Mulder wanted the gauche consumerism of Disney World every spring. He wanted drippy ice cream cones and a perpetually muddy dog and troops of sticky neighbor children marauding through the back door so he could say JESUS CHRIST WILLIAM I’M NOT PAYING TO AIR CONDITION THE WHOLE STREET. He imagined burnt pig-anus hot dogs over a campfire, a floor strewn with action figures, snow angels, Chef Boyardee. No chess coach, no deportment classes, those new-fangled sneakers that lit up. He imagined Welch’s grape juice stains on the couch.

***

Scully, luscious and fully fleshed again, with William suckling at her blue-veined breast. Scully like a Renaissance Madonna reimagined by Margaret Atwood.

“My mother sold her wedding dress to pay for Charlie’s football gear,” she says, touching William’s rose petal cheek. “My father made pretty good money for the Navy and all, but four kids so close together…we ate a lot of spaghetti. Lots of hand me downs. Missy shoplifted makeup a whole lot, if my mother ever knew…”

“Malnutrition why you’re so short?” he asks, because he knows she wasn’t actually malnourished.

She scowls. “It was never dirty, my mother would have died first. But just…you know. Heaps of rain boots at the door and school books on the table and hair ribbons and pencil stubs and recorder sheet music and half a cream-cheese-and-jelly sandwich withering on a plate because Bill and Missy were pinching each other…”

Scully trails off, switches the baby to her other breast. Remembers dinners of store-brand fish sticks and creamed corn because one of them had an unexpected pricey field trip.

William gurgles, clutches a fistful of his mother’s silky hair. Blows a raspberry beneath her Delft pottery gaze.

Mulder kisses William’s warm, fragrant head.

Mulder remembers his father, pleasantly loquacious on bourbon, teaching him about shoulder lines and top-stitching at 8. His mother and Samantha in matching ruffled Gunne Saxe dresses, the starched disapproval of the maid when he tracked footprints over the fresh vacuum lines in the carpet.

Chicken a la King, wedge salad, Steak Diane, swigs of his mother’s sidecar…

William hiccups, dribbling milk down his fat cheek. He begins to hiccup more, which makes him laugh at first, and which then makes him cry.

“It was just always loud and chaotic,” Scully says, propping the baby against her shoulder. “Someone was always hurt or in trouble or pulling hair or getting their hair pulled…it was impossible to think or relax. College was such a gift.” She remembers a study- fort she built in the San Diego coat closet.

William belches, then cheerfully vomits down her cleavage.

Scully groans.

Mulder mops her up with tender precision, watches William try to stuff his dinner-roll fist into his mouth.

“It’s been silent at my house for twenty-eight years,” Mulder says.

[bornagainmurdock]

coming back from space (sub!matt version)

author's note: almost unrelated, but what's matt's astrological chart? bc he has to be a water sun, fire moon, and fire rising, right? please

contents: 18+ ONLY, suggestive but ultimately fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, sub!matt, coming back from subspace, aftercare, mentions of dumbification, use of 'mutt,' biting

work count: 1.3k

Matt's head was fuzzy, and unable to process everything around him. The bed under his body was slowly entering his senses, and it was agonizing. The sheets were soft enough to keep him from panicking, but it was too much, his entire back, ass, and thighs raw from the sensation.

"Matty? Hey baby, you coming back to me now?" Your voice broke though the static in Matt's head, overpowering the fuzzy noises of the city sneaking through the cracks in the windows.

"Hmm." He hummed, now trying to figure out what was under his head. Soft and smooth, and warm, and he smiled. It was you.

"How are you feeling? You were really deep there." When Matt started wiggling, you placed your hand in his hair, petting through the strands and untangling them with care.

His hearing was still uneven, his right ear amplified and his left still coming back to earth. Your voice made it would like he was underwater, or in the shower prying water out of his ears.

"What am— where am I?" He was blinking over and over, eventually rubbing his eyes and try to clear the fog.

"Did i sink you so far down you forgot you're blind? Matthew that's concerning." You were giggling, but serious as could be.

He blinked a few more times before realizing you were right, removing his hands from his eyes, looking around without seeing.

"Oh yah. Was so far into space, saw pluto. I guess didn't see pluto, but I knew it was there. All the way out with the asteroid belt. Zoomin." He was smiling. It was gentle and loving, and addicting to see him so happy.

"Pluto, hmm? That's pretty impressive." You were slow to bring him back. You knew how hard it was to come down from subspace.

Matt turned his head to nuzzle into your thigh, his nose poking at your skin. The warmth was tempting, he wanted to dig his way to your bones, nuzzle in there and be a part of you.

"Think I'm only at saturn, that's not too far away right? Still close? Maybe? What are the nine planets?" He wiggled and readjusted, shrinking in on himself until he was a small ball in your lap, innocent expression looking up at you.

"What's the first one?" You knew he could barely remember his own name right now.

"Think it's mars. NO! No nonononono. It's the other 'M' one. Mmmmmm— mmmmmm?" His tone trailed with the question. "Mercury!"

"Good job baby! First one is mercury. What's next?" You petted his cheek, leaning down to kiss ove the blush as a reward.

"I'm a lawyer, not an astronaut. Why would I know that?"

"It's that one Mitski lyric. Planet of love?" Matt didn't listen to Mitski, but you did, and that man could hear you blasting 'Be The Cowboy' from streets over, texting you to make sure you were mentally stable.

In a sing-songy tone, Matt danced in your lap, "Venus, planet of love, was destROYED!"

"Such a good singer, baby." You smiled down at him. "My favorite singer."

"Can we listen to music?" He asked shyly, not worried that you'd say no, but worried you'd play something too silly for the moment.

"Of course baby." You twisted to grab your phone off the side of the bed, unlocking it to open spotify and search for your designated aftercare playlist. "How about Debussy?"

"Mmhm, yes please."

You hit play and Matt relaxed into your skin, bobbing his head with the beat and relaxing into the piano.

You both sat cuddled together, curling in on one another and wiggling to get as much skin to skin contact. Matt naked and shivering wherever your body wasn't, and you, half dressed, clothing pulled and tugged at by Matt's hands just a few minutes ago.

You traced your fingers over the expanse of his body, tickling the sides of his stomach and the backs of his knees. He wriggled in your hold, but smiley whole time.

"Matty, do you wanna talk about the scene now? I wanna know what you liked." You broke the silence, trying to get Matt closer and closer to reality.

"You. I like you." He nipped at the skin pulled over your collarbones.

"You know that is not what I asked, baby."

"Hmph," Matt said defeated, "I liked when you were mean to me. Like that a lot. You could be meaner though." He poked your belly with the last word.

"Yah? Like what?" You pushed him further, liking the view of him searching through his memory.

"Welllll, don't remember things exactly, but at one point you called me a dumb mutt and I think I died and went to heaven. Never called me that before. Didn't think I'd like it. Maybe just liked the way you said it." He sorted through the scene, still looking for highlights.

"Good boy. And such a dumb mutt, too! I'm glad you liked it. Felt it in the moment, but was worried it was too much." You said.

He nosed up at your chin, silently begging for more attention.

"Can't say it anymore it's tooooo good. Want me back in space?" He was already a bit dazed again.

"I know my love, just teasing you." You giggled. "What else did you like?"

"I liked when you looked at me with those eyes. Can't see them, but could feel you saw me in half with those lasers. Felt like I was burning up and exploding and like I was the smallest thing in the world," Matt was losing his breath as he talked, pushing through each word, "Liked when you bit me too. Can still feel it radiating through me, your tooth marks, they are still there aren't there."

"Yes baby, clear as day, can still see them," You reached over to his shoulder, pressing into the bite marks, feeling where your teeth were. "They still feel warm."

"Toasty!" Matt whispered, wiggling again in your lap.

"I'm glad you liked that. I liked it too."

"Do it again?" He pouted.

You lifted his body up for his shoudler to be mouth level to you, starting by dragging your teeth over the marks that were already there. Matt was already a mess again, whimpering and begging. You licked over the marks, absorbing some of the heat form his skin.

"Ready, baby?" You flicked you tongue, pressing a bit harder than you had previously.

Matt's back arched, his shoulder pushing closer to your mouth. This was the leverage you needed.

You bit down softly at first, then slowly increasing the pressure allowing Matt time to adjust to the sensation. And the you bit down heard, Matt throwing his head back against you unable to stop himself from moaning and squirming.

His hips bucked up, legs straining under his body. Matt reached a hand up to your face, just to be met with one of your hands pinning his wrist to his chest instead. His finger nails dug into his skin, imprinting there.

You pressed a little harder before pulling away to view the damage.

"I hmmm," Matt struggled to make a sentence. "Thank you."

"The world for you." You licked at the teeth marks again.

"Hmmm. One more?" He asked hopeful.

"No more. Time to get cleaned up lovebug. Let me help you up." You pushed his body away from you to swing your legs over the bed from around Matt, dragging him with you.

"Bath?" He tried to get his footing but ultimately relied on you to stand.

"Of course, let me go fill the tub. Want to pick a bathbomb?"

"Yes, please."

[skywriter97]

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

A ShadowxAurora One Shot

Shadow never meant to keep it. With the limited space in his apartment, a piano wasn't exactly practical. But he'd seen it sitting on the street while on a run, a pathetic little spinet that apparently wasn't worth the effort for repair according to the owner, so it sat in wait for the dump truck.

Omega thought he was nuts when Shadow had used Chaos Control to transport the piano into the apartment, and perhaps he was. The instrument had definitely seen better days, and it would take more than a simple tune up to get it in pristine condition again.

That didn't stop Shadow from shoving the spinet against the wall between his mattress and the front door and then going out to purchase the necessary items for piano repairs.

The spinet became Shadow's passion project over the next several weeks. Any spare moment between his mercenary work with Omega and dates with Aurora, Shadow could be found with the spinet piano, painstakingly doting over the instrument to set it to rights again.

"You never told me you can fix instruments." Aurora had noted once, sitting on the little bench with her legs swinging while half of Shadow's body was inside the back of the spinet.

"Never came up." Shadow had grunted.

"Where'd you learn?" She'd pressed.

Shadow had shrugged. "I did a lot of things while off world, Light. Sometimes I was asked to fix things, and music is universal." Aurora had accepted that answer, and Shadow minutely relaxed.

No way he was EVER going to tell her that some aristocrat across the galaxy had taken fancy to him and tried to get his attention by breaking her piano, just so he'd come and fix it. It was the fastest he'd ever fled a planet. Omega still hadn't let him live it down.

The plan for the spinet once he'd finished repairs was simple enough: take it to the resale shop and get a decent sum of cash for it. He'd contacted the shop, gotten a good offer, and was set to deliver and receive his rings, but when he arrived and saw the buyer...a mother and son duo, the latter whom was whining about how much he HATED piano lessons and was currently and carelessly swinging a baseball bat around in his fit....Shadow took his piano and left.

No way was Shadow going to let all his hard work repairing his baby go to waste on some ungrateful brat that lacked basic appreciation. So, the little spinet piano became a permanent fixture in his apartment.

Shadow had never considered himself a musician of any sort. He was a warrior, a mercenary, the Ultimate Lifeform, a guardian. Music...required a certain softness that Shadow, with all his broken pieces and jagged edges, simply did not possess. But, somehow, that didn't matter. Sitting at his little spinet, gingerly filling his apartment with the soft tones of the classics centered him with a kind of peace he rarely ever achieved...with one exception. When he played, Shadow could pretend that was all there was. Just him and his spinet, creating something beautiful together. It was almost magical, if he believed in such a thing.

Shadow huffed a quiet chuckle, gently resting his hand atop the keys but not pressing down, his thoughts drifting towards the other almost-magical thing in his life. Honestly, if it magic was a thing, Shadow could believe it, because of her. The way she pranced through life, with such light and arms wide open, eager and excited for whatever came her way...could anything else but magical describe his precious Light?

Almost without his command, his fingers gently drifted across the spinet's keys, a delicate melody that swirled and danced through the air. Shadow sighed.

"Though I tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her

In my heart.

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done

From the start."

How many times has Shadow looked into those emerald eyes, seen that smile, and choked? It was three simple words, why was it so difficult? He's made peace with the past, hasn't he?

"Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

A sniffle behind him had Shadow whirling around, Chaos Spear halfway formed in his hand and a snarl on his muzzle, when those same piercing emerald eyes damp with tears stopped him dead. Shadow gulped, his ears flattening against his head. Damn. How long had she- Shadow made get up, averting his eyes as embarrassment colored his cheeks rosy red.

And then she's right there, pushing him back down on the bench with pleas of "Please don't stop, don't mind me-," and she's still looking at him with those eyes, pleading and wet, her body pressed tight against his side, lips protruding in the most pitiful pout...

Chaos, he was screwed, wasn't he?

Shadow sighed and tapped her nose with his finger. "You will say nothing to anyone about this." He commanded, and tried to ignore how distracting that beaming smile was in order to return to the piano. He gulped, frozen with his fingers in position. He knew his voice was not what anyone would call gifted, hers was so much better, and he chanced a glance down to his shoulder where she'd laid her head. She smiled at him again, eager and encouraging, and Shadow gulped and resumed playing.

"Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days

SInce we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me

That ends up getting wet.

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

Shadow rested his cheek against the top of her head, mindful of the short grouping of quills that acted as bangs, closing his eyes momentarily and just breathing.

"I resolve to call her up

A thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me

In some old fashioned way.

But my silent fears have gripped me

Long before I reach the phone.

Long before my tongue has tripped me

Must I always be alone?"

Her arms squeezed him gently, reassuringly, around his middle, and he pressed a kiss to her head in response, smiling at the growing damp spot on his shoulder.

"Every little thing she does is magic,

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on,"

Shadow dropped one hand from the piano and cupped Aurora's cheek, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes, shining with light and joy, and he knew his words wouldn't fail him this time. He smiled at her and leaned his forehead on hers.

"Every little thing you do is magic

Everything you do just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Know that my love for you goes on."

Shadow ended the song with a soft kiss to her lips, sealing his declaration of devotion with all the love and passion and dedication he had in his heart in the best way he knew how. Words always failed him, but somehow, in this moment, it didn't matter. Aurora wept through his kiss, and he smiled as they parted, a quirk of his mouth so gentle and loving that only she would ever get to see it.

Aurora pounced on him a single moment later, using her own gift of speed to press kiss after kiss on his lips, face, head, everywhere she could reach, glowing so brightly and joyfully exclaiming "I love you"s between kisses. Shadow briefly wondered how she wasn't suffocating before dismissing the thought and basking in their shared love, trading her kisses and words with ones of his own. It didn't matter anyway.

Every little thing she did was magic, after all.