#God I want to ballroom dance with him so bad

[mm-lurking]

It's 11pm and I can't stop thinking of ballroom dancing with Blade. Thinking of how he's a man of few emotions. He doesn't smile much, he doesn't talk much and he looks so annoyed as he was held hostage to attend this ballroom dance but when he sees you in the distance, standing at the base of the wide staircase, you swear you see his face change. It's subtle. The change in his expression is subtle, like the faint breeze that seems to blow past your face when you walk closer to him. There are several hundred people in this large banquet hall but all you see is him. There are so many men wearing elegant suits but they all look dull compared to this handsome man who dons the most exquisite four-piece suit you have seen in your life.

It doesn't matter what he is to you. A stranger, an enemy, a friend or a lover, you're mesmerised. Perhaps it is the soft lights of the hall that cause everything to be coated in a heavenly glow or perhaps it is the enchanting live music that's playing in the background; you don't know what it is, all you know is you're spellbound by this man.

You're speechless as you watch his figure come closer to you, his aura both scaring you and captivating you. You know he is a dangerous man and the way he walks and keeps his head high is a clear indication of that but you never feared danger and you most certainly didn't fear him. If he was a glass of poison and you were a parched prisoner, you would most happily drink it down with a smile on your face. This man was the epitome of risks and you were willing to hand yourself over to him.

He stands before you with a blank face but god you can tell that underneath his icy exterior, he's pleased to see you. Amidst the hundreds of strangers he's drawn to you and you only, like a moth that finds its way to the light no matter the obstacles in the path. You mentally trace his figure and with each passing second your heart is beating louder and louder as if confirming your want for him.

The way his large calloused hand extend outward to silently invite you to a dance, the way your small fragile hand perfectly fits into his like a missing puzzle piece; perhaps that's exactly what you were to him, the missing shard of his shattered heart. A silly little smile spreads on your face and you cannot stop yourself from doing so as you look into his crimson eyes. His eyes speak a thousand words to your soul and you just know he's going to be your Achilles heel. You forget how to breathe as your lungs collapse and the oxygen leaves your body when he gently wraps an arm around your waist. The grip he has on you surprises you, it is not a request but a statement of how he wants you. You swear you feel his fingers through the layers of your dress and by god do you feel weak under his touch.

He gently sways you at the first beat of the song, intertwining his free hand into yours as his gaze remains fixated on you. The candles in the room so beautifully mirror that crimson blaze of his eyes and you find yourself lost in his eyes, completely enthralled by how wonderful they look. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and you could finally attest to this, for his eyes swirled with peril and terror. You knew what you were getting yourself into and you had no objections.

He continues to lead the dance, spinning you around as you both make your way through the ballroom in each other's arms. Neither of you says a word; the way you're holding each other with so much conviction and the silent long gazes in each other's eyes speak more than any word that comes out of your mouth will. Yet he finally says something.

"Stunning."

You tilt your head in confusion, wondering what he's talking about.

"You are stunning."

"Oh."

A blush spreads on your face and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed by his compliment. He softly chuckles which makes you burn up even more.

"T-thank you."

You manage to say and continue to avert your gaze away from him. The ballroom music fills the silence between you both before he speaks again.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He brings your joint hand to your chin and gently lifts it to face him better. Chills run down your spine from his touch and you gulp. You feel bare under his sharp gaze as you watch his eyes trace your facial features before making eye contact. Subconsciously, you hold onto his hand letting the warmth of his skin diffuse into yours.

In the heat of the moment, you fail to realise that both of you are away from the public eyes, hidden away in the dark corners of the banquet hall where no man will see. It is only when you take notice of the quietness surrounding you does it dawn upon you. You look back at him and hurriedly speak, afraid someone might catch you both in such a position.

"We should head back."

"Not so fast."

"Blade-"

He tugs on your waist causing you to stumble forward and grip his suit coat. The proximity of you both makes your heart beat furiously and you know he can hear the pounding. The arm on your waist only tightens as he leans into your ear.

"When will I see you again?"

He whispers and that deep rumbling of his voice drives you crazy, causing your brain to short-circuit. You inhale his strong masculine scent and grip his coat harder.

"Ask for me at the gates of the estate."

"Asking for you is not enough, I desire you."

His words are shutting down every sensible nerve in you, like a poison taking over its victim, sweetly and slowly.

"You know better than anyone else I cannot hand myself over to you. Not like this."

"My mortal vessel desires you more than I need air for my lungs."

You say nothing more and inch closer to his face, planting a kiss near his lips. You know you are too deep in the water but at this point, you would rather drown in your desire than drag yourself out of his currents.

"I will see you when dusk approaches tomorrow. Ask for me."

You whisper back and smile, slowly pulling yourself away from his arms. The loss of contact already gives you severe withdrawals and you know you have signed up for trouble. He lets you go, watching you disappear from his line of sight as he clenches and unclenches his fist. Want was not a strong enough word to explain what he felt for you.

No, this was the very need of his existence. You being his, by his side was the sole reason his heart had to continue beating. His eyes never leave your body as he finally loses you from his vision and sighs. When will he see you, the one whose name he has etched into his heart, again?

On the other end of the banquet hall, you find yourself clasping the hand he held, breathing heavily as you replay everything in your head again.

If wanting him was going to destroy you, you would gladly be torn into pieces and put back together by him. If loving him was going to hurt, you were willing to let every fibre of your body beg for mercy. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[hyperactively-me]

black tie affair (part 2)

“You’re beautiful. So handsome,” you coo, beaming up at him with a certain tenderness that he’s only ever seen you use with him. He’s stunned, his eyes widened and jaw ticking. He wants to fuck you so bad. He doesn’t think he can wait a moment longer.  “I want to rip this dress off your body. ‘S all I was thinkin’ about all night,” he says huskily, murmuring close to your ear. “I could barely control myself when you called me here to zip up this dress.” “I know,” you whisper, eyes searching his as you lean your face closer and closer. “Simon, I want you. I want you, I want you.”

hi guys. this is my first time writing smut, therefore 18+ only. 5.4k words. hope you like it. have fun. bye guys.

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: smuttyyy smut

The military ball was in full swing in the grand ballroom of the elegant hotel, the area bedecked with glistening chandeliers and adorned with gold and maroon hues. Soldiers and their partners mingled in the room, their attire resplendent and their medals glistening brilliantly. 

You felt like you were on cloud nine, soaring high in the sky. He remained relatively quiet, but he kept taking “sneaky” glances at you. God, he thought you couldn’t see, but you noticed. You noticed every time. You noticed during training, during meals at the mess hall, during debriefing meetings, during missions. His eyes bored into your being, your soul. 

At one point, a champagne toast was made, the bubbly liquid dripping down your throat as you took little sips here and there. You had handed Simon his glass, clinking the edge of it to yours before everyone took a collective sip, a nod to the reason of the occasion. Simon had swirled the liquid in his flute, eyeing you as you took a small sip from your own glass. He observed the way your painted lips hugged the edge of the glass, wishing nothing more than for your soft lips to be on his own. And maybe on his cock. 

As the night progressed, people had started taking to the dance floor, swinging their partners to the tempo of the music. The dance floor beckoned them in as the orchestra played a steady tune. Simon extended his hand to you, his eyes turning up into what you assumed to be a smile behind his mask. Your eyes lit up as you placed your hand in his, your pulse racing at the thought of dancing with him.

You stepped onto the floor, surrounded by fellow soldiers and their partners. The ambiance of the room fades away as he places a firm hand on your waist, the other taking your hand. His body aligned perfectly with yours, molding together as if they were meant to fit. You could tell he was nervous. His movements were stiff, calculated as he kept his eyes trained to the floor as if to prevent himself from taking a misstep. 

"I know you’re nervous," you smile gently at him, nudging him slightly. 

His eyes flicker to yours, a lighthearted scoff threatening to spill over. He didn’t want to make a fool of you. 

“Just tryin’ to make it seem like I know what I’m doin’,” he admits. 

You squeeze his hand in yours. 

“Just follow me,” you say, pulling him towards you slightly. You led him through the dance, already impressed enough that he had the courage to ask you to dance with him. The melody acts as a guiding force, you pull Simon along with you, slowly, methodically. You can feel the tension leaving his body as you move him, his hand squeezing yours, a silent thank you.  

As the ball came to a close, you took Simon’s arm, laughing and smiling like there was no tomorrow. 

“Simon, there’s absolutely no way that I’m letting you go back to your room right now,” you smile, a giggle escaping your lips. You tug on his arm gently, leading him towards the elevators in the lobby. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on going back, love,” he quips. “Besides, how else am I going to find out what’s under that dress of yours?” A smug expression takes over his face.  

Your face heats as you tug on your dress. Did it just get hotter here? You snuggle closer to his arm, your face rubbing up against the fabric of his tux, leaning your cheek on his muscled bicep. 

The elevator arrives with a quiet ding, making you stand up a bit straighter as you realize what's about to happen. Simon has been wanting you, needing you, since the moment he laid eyes on you all that time ago. He leads you in the elevator, and you let go of his arm, much to his dismay. He looks at you for a moment, but you look up at him with a reassuring smile, bumping your arm against his own. 

“Don’t get frowny on me,” you joke, brushing some stray hair behind your ear. 

“‘M not,” he deadpans, flitting his gaze to you for a moment. 

He quickly presses the button to the fourth floor, rocking side to side, as if the elevator was taking its sweet time going up. 

“Impatient, I see” you giggle, watching him press the button to your floor repeatedly. 

“I’ve been patient for a long, long time,” his voice was gruff and low, a mocking tone solely for you to hear. You nod once, letting this revelation sink in. Oh. Oh. 

As soon as the elevator door opens, you grab his hand tightly, yanking him out into the hallway. He stumbles for a moment, and that's when you turn around, grabbing him by his tie, pulling him down to your eye level. A grunt escapes his lips as you pull him down, his hands come to settle on your waist. You lean over to his ear, hot breath fanning over the shell of his ear. 

“And I’ve been waiting for you the whole time, big man,” you whisper, tightening your grip on his tie.

His cock twitches in his pants. You give him goosebumps, but you can’t see them. God he wishes you could. He wishes you could see how much you affect him. Simon’s mouth is agape under the mask, a small pant coming through the fabric. You step back, letting go of his tie, smoothing it out before turning around on your heel making your way to your room. He stands there, unabashedly staring at your ass before following behind you.

You pull open your door, but his hand reaches above your head to hold the door open for you to enter first. As soon as you step into the room, you toe off your heels, kicking them to the side. You turn to watch him shut the door, his eyes trained on you. You’re brought back to what happened in this very room a few hours ago, and you’re already pressing your thighs together, trying to savor this moment for a little longer.

“What are you waiting for?” you question, batting your eyes at him, a smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. 

“I’m just lookin’ at you,” he says as if he’s in a trance. “Jus’, let me look at you.”

He lands a hand on your face, cupping your cheek. You press into it, a small whimper building in your throat. His skin feels rough and calloused, despite how gently he drags his thumb along your cheekbone, savoring the silky texture of your skin. You stare at each other, all silent communication. You turn your face into his hand, bringing up your hand to cup his own, and inhale, taking in his scent. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that, right?” he murmurs, watching your every movement. 

“Mhm,” you acknowledge weakly, dragging your lips across his palm. You see him shiver as your lips brush over his skin. Simon handles you with care, dragging his thumb to the corner of your lip, stroking your lip. 

You take his hand in yours, pulling it down as you grab his free hand, squeezing them both in your grasp. You push up onto your toes, pressing a feather light kiss against his mask on the corner of his lips. You pull away, admiring the lipstick mark you left on the skull, a stark contrast of the symbolism behind it. 

He stares at you, shellshocked, pupils blown wide by your tenderness, and in an instant, he’s trying to pry his mask off his face, hands fumbling with the edges as his fine motor skills are knocked down a few pegs as if he was drunk from the kiss.

“Need this thing off,” he murmurs, and you push up on your toes and grasp the hem of the mask. He stills immediately, hands coming up to rest on your hips. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, and in one motion, you slip his mask off his face.

His eyes. Oh god, his eyes. His eyes. They’re staring straight into your soul. There's nothing for him to hide behind anymore, his final and strongest wall down. He’s laid bare in front of you. All he wants is you, you, you. You make him feel like he can’t breathe, like he can’t function, like he’ll evaporate from even the slightest acknowledgement from you. You can see a redness dusted over his cheeks and ears, his pupils blown wide, blond eyelashes dancing as he blinks, once, twice. His stubble-covered face and muscular jaw look appetizing, as if it was sculpted by the gods. His dirty blond hair is disheveled, but you don’t care. Frankly, you think it's endearing. You gingerly bring your hands up to his cheeks, running your hands over his skin as if you can’t believe he’s standing in front of you, face bare.

“Simon.”

He blinks, trying to register your words. He feels like he can’t breathe, your face is so close to his. 

“Hm,” he hums, entranced by you. He can’t help himself. The way you’re looking at him, the way you’re dressed, the way you’re able to walk into a room and light the whole place. He can’t help that he wants you, needs you, wants to make you feel like you’re the most special woman in the world. The way his name rolls off your tongue so perfectly makes him want to collapse. 

“You’re beautiful. So handsome,” you coo, beaming up at him with a certain tenderness that he’s only ever seen you use with him. He’s stunned, his eyes widened and jaw ticking. He wants to fuck you so bad. He doesn’t think he can wait a moment longer. 

“I want to rip this dress off your body. ‘S all I was thinkin’ about all night,” he says huskily, murmuring close to your ear. “I could barely control myself when you called me here to zip up this dress.”

“I know,” you whisper, eyes searching his as you lean your face closer and closer. “Simon, I want you. I want you, I want you.”

You leaned closer, your breath mingling with Simon's, your lips slightly parted. Your eyes flicker from his gaze to his lips, then back to his eyes. Simon takes the chance and places a delicate, chaste kiss on your lips. There is no urgency or intensity, only a gentle press, a delicate touch, and a defining moment that cannot be expressed through words. Your lips brush across his, feather-light, the contact lingering only a fleeting moment. Your heart overflows with affection, care, and tenderness as he gently draws away, his gaze fixed on yours. 

The next thing you know, he’s crashing his lips on yours, hard, filled to the brim with passion. You’re grabbing his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you flush against you, squeezing the flesh of your hips as he presses into you. More, more, more. He swipes his tongue over your lips, asking for permission. He kisses you like a man starved, your lipstick smearing across his own lips as your teeth clacked and tongues pushed against one other. You didn't bother suppressing the lovely moan that escaped your lips, swallowed by the man in front of you. The two of you pulled away from each other hesitantly, your hand raking through his hair, pulling at it gently. You leaned in and bit his lower lip, placing a brief kiss on his cheek while rolling your hips against him. He walks you backwards until your back slams into the wall behind you, pressing you against the wall. You gasp into his mouth as he paws at your dress, pulling your sleeves off your shoulders, lips not breaking contact from yours. Finally, he pulls away, looking at you for a moment before flipping you around, pressing your face up against the wall. 

“I’ve been waitin’ to do this all night, darlin’,” he says gruffly, his hot breath against your ear, making you shiver in anticipation. “I’m goin’ t’ take my time.”

You clench your thighs together at his words, a throaty, quiet moan escaping your lips. His hand brushes up against your back, his hot touch nearly making you moan. He toys with your zipper, then agonizingly slowly, starts pulling it down. His touch is hot, you swear your skin is melting off your body as he works his way down, his hand unabashedly caressing your skin until the zipper reaches the bottom, stopping with a singular click. Your breathing nearly stops as your dress falls off your body, leaving you in your bra and panties. 

He chuckles slowly, watching your reaction with narrowed eyes. Simon starts to lean your head back, exposing your bare neck to him. He drags his tongue from your ear to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along the delicate skin, lightly biting along the soft flesh of your neck. Simon grinds himself hard against you, pushing you back into being pinned against the wall. His hand begins to graze down your body, his hand slipping under your bra strap, fingertips gliding along your bare shoulder.

You moan lightly as he nips at your neck, you press your back up against him just to get closer, wanting to feel every part of him. He suddenly flips you around, grabbing onto your shoulders like it's his lifeline. Leaning down again, he lightly licks along your collarbone, inching down to lick across the top of your breasts, reaching around behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it drop to the floor. You shiver as your bare skin hits the cool air, clasping your hands on his shoulders as he moves back up to kiss you, hard, for a couple of seconds. Pulling away, he moves lower down to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking it as his tongue flicks against it. 

You gasp, hands squeezing his shoulders hard, shuddering at the warmth of his tongue toying with your nipple. 

“Where can I go?” he asks quietly, so quietly that you don't notice it at first.

"Any- anywhere," you exclaim as his mouth descends, one hand gently caressing between your tits, tongue locating your other nipple and sucking hard. You gasp, unconsciously arching your back higher, and you can feel him tighten even more as he pushes his hips deeper into the space between your legs. 

“Oh– more, more please.”

You gasp, wanting him there forever, and suddenly, he's gone, kissing up your collarbone and to your neck. He latches onto the valley between your neck and shoulder, sucking at the skin hard, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. He hums as he pulls back, admiring the bruise forming against your skin.

“Here?”

He's taking his time with you, exactly as he promised, barely brushing up against you when you want him to fucking ram into you at this very moment. He's relishing you, every inch of you, leaving no stone left unturned, but you want him to devour you, take you as you are now. God, your frantic mind is screaming right now, chest heaving as anticipation threatens to bubble out.

“More everywhere,” you manage, your voice quivering. You can't bear how desperately you want him inside you. “Please—will you– please,” you whimper, nonsensical.

He shoves two of his fingers in your mouth, shutting you up. You think you see stars as he pushes his two digits against your tongue, beckoning you, teasing you to suck. 

“Good girl,” he says simply. “Just be quiet and let me make you feel good, pretty girl.” 

His breathing grows ragged as you suck, moving your tongue between his fingers and circling around the skin. He groans at the pressure, adjusting his dress pants. You whimper slightly as he pulls his fingers from your lips. Strings of your saliva drip as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. He pauses for a moment, looking straight at you before plunging his two wet fingers into his own mouth, sucking them clean. You stand there, mouth agape, your panties becoming significantly wetter as you watch his tongue dart out to lap at your saliva. 

“Hot,” you pant out, eyes half lidded. You run your hands over his chest, the fabric of his tux blocking you out.

“You need this off,” you say, pawing at the fabric, gliding your hands up to start pushing his tux jacket off. He doesn’t move, letting you take it off for him. A shiver runs up his spine as your fingers deftly move to his collarbone, fiddling with his tie. You slowly, agonizingly slowly, start to loosen it, untying the loops you had created it into a few hours ago. Finally, you yank it off, twisting the fabric in your fingers for a moment before letting it fall to the floor. His cock jumps in his pants as he watches you bite your lip, eyeing him with a look of pure lust.

“Darlin’ you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he mutters, bringing his hands up suddenly to help you unbutton his white dress shirt. 

“No, let me do it for you,” you stop him.

He’s letting all of his barriers down, letting you see every inch of himself. He’s wanted this, wanted to feel your fingers grace the bare skin of his chest, his face, his arms. You lean up to his neck, still unbuttoning his shirt as you move. You start to suckle on his neck, your searing hot tongue surging against his skin. He groans, your teeth nipping his skin ever so gently. You shake his shirt off his shoulders, his chest finally bare in front of you. You lightly run your hands over remnants of scars, reminders from his past. He shudders, the urge to pull away, to hide himself again, imminent. But, when you lean down to kiss a scar above his pec, he stills. Warmth. Warmth is all he feels, all he wants, all he craves. The warmth from you, your touch, everything about you. 

“Simon Riley, you are so beautiful,” you mumble against his skin, gingerly tracing over old scars on his back. You press the front of your body against his, just embracing him in a hug. A fucking hug. He flounders for a moment, his heart feels like it's going to explode out his chest. He’s dizzy, chest heaving from the overwhelming urge to take you, to let you know that he fucking craves you, sees you for who you are, remind you that you are a beautiful person, inside and out. His primal desire bursts out, he can't hold back anymore.

“‘M gonna fuck you so hard n’ good, just like you deserve, love.”

Your knees go weak as Simon grabs your upper arms, walking you backwards until your knees hit the bed. He takes your back in his arms, slowly laying you down on the bed. He takes a step back, just staring at your body, raking his eyes up and down your form. He brings his eyes right up to yours, gaze unwavering as he opens his mouth

“‘M gonna savor this.” 

You whimper at his words, getting impossibly wetter, slick coating the insides of your thighs. Your thighs press together, trying to alleviate the growing pressure low in your abdomen, your clit throbbing for release. 

“Please,” you whimper, eyes flitting to his form.

“Needy, needy,” he tuts, a smirk tugging at his lips. He chuckles slowly, leaning forward, kneeling on the bed over you. His hands ghost over your thighs, coming up to your soaked panties. He reaches forward, palming over your clothed cunt, fingers pressing into your wetness. You moan at his touch, back arching to press him closer. This time, even more encouraged by your moan, Simon reaches for the waistband, and slowly pulls it off your frame, revealing your dripping cunt to him. Unbeknownst to you, he slips your panties into his back pocket. 

A little treat for later he thinks to himself.

He slides off the side of the bed, now kneeling on the floor, eyes trained on you. Simon takes a sharp breath, sinking down to eye-level with your pussy, picking up your ankles and throwing them over his shoulder, yanking your hips down the bed. His hands come under you to rest on your ass, giving you a hard squeeze. You let out a small yelp, hands gripping onto the duvet, nearly shaking from anticipation. You know he’s staring, his gaze locked in between your thighs, then you feel his searing tongue drag up your pussy, a single stripe.

“Si- Simon,” you mewl, hands searching for his hair.

The second you mewled his name, moaning for him, his mouth grows into a blaze against you, his tongue a blazing inferno. It's skilled, and he drags it everywhere you want without saying a single word. You just moan, loudly and haphazardly, as the tip of it grinds up against your clit, scorching. His nose presses against your clit as he dives down, licking and sucking your wetness. He's starving. His groans are muted and blazing with desire against your wet cunt, lapping at your arousal and drowning in you. You can feel him drooling against you, worshiping you, and he gasps, heated, against you when your floundering hands manage to tangle in his hair.

“So fucking good for me,” he grunts against your throbbing clit, “such a pretty girl.” 

“Y- you, really good– I’m gonna–” you moan breathlessly, chest heaving as the tight coil of an orgasm builds higher and higher in your abdomen, mere moments away from being released. You clench around nothing, cunt throbbing as he works his mouth on you.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” 

“Such a perfect girl, tasting so good for me,” he moans out, slightly lifting up so you can hear him clearly. You keen at his praises, tugging at his hair harder, pulling more grunts and sounds from his busy mouth. 

He starts to run a finger through your slick folds, finger gliding along until it stops at your clit. You gasp at the slight pressure he applies, before fully massaging your clit. You nearly scream from the sensation, knees jerking and back arching, bucking your hips into his face as he plays with your clit. 

“Such a beautiful girl you are, y’ taste so good,” he slurs. The vibration of a grunt rumbles against your sensitive skin, causing you to nearly faint, the pressure in your abdomen about to snap.

“‘M gonna cum—” It's half-gasped before tearing through you like a flash of electricity, strong and brilliantly tight, ripping every ounce of strength from your body and every ounce of sanity from your thoughts. You climax forcefully in his mouth and then simply lay there weakly and let him taste you, let him stroke your swollen pussy with his tongue. He groans, lapping up as much as he can before pulling away, eyes boring into yours. His nose, mouth, and chin are glistening, dripping in your slick. 

“S’ perfect,” he groans whilst licking his lips, rubbing his chin slightly. You’re panting, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling, blissed out from your first orgasm. 

“Fuck, Simon, you eat pussy like a champ,” you chuckle breathlessly.

“Look at me, love,” he says, removing your legs from over his shoulders. He starts to crawl over you, and you can see how incredibly hard he is, his cock straining against his pants. You push yourself up onto your elbows, eyeing his bulge with interest. First, he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He shoves his tongue in your mouth, licking the inside of your mouth fervently. As he pulls away, strings of saliva leak from his mouth, making you clench your thighs together once more.

His hands begin to travel over your body, following the contours of your curves. He rubs the flesh of your ass, eliciting a tiny moan from you. He groans softly in your ear, brutally smacking your ass, your brief moan encouraging him.

“I want it so badly,” you grunt. You were the first to snap, feeling his palms graze the flesh of your thigh, his grasp so tight that he would probably leave some bruises. 

“Go on, then. Take it.”

Your gentle fingers ease his belt free from the hoops of his dress pants, nipping at his neck as you remove it from his waist. You bring your hands to the edge of his pants, quickly pulling them down and off his legs, letting him kick them off the bed from his ankles. He's bent over you, his lips on the shell of your ear.  

"You're such a tease" he grumbles, his hips shifting to grind against your core.

"So are you," you taunt back, grabbing his massive bulge through his underwear, palming your hand over his length. You finally pull down his boxers, letting his cock spring free from its confines. It's massive. You nearly moan just from the sight itself, the tip leaking precum. You immediately grasp it in your hold, wrapping your hand around it, stroking his length into your hand. You caressed his big cock, prompting him to press his hips into your hand while he groaned, high-pitched and needy. 

“N– need you right now,” he groans, crawling on top of you, pressing his cock up against your stomach, grinding it over your soft skin. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, hand coming up to stroke his cock. 

Although he hasn't made any attempt to put anything inside you yet, his hips thrust into yours, like he’s trying to create a mental image for himself for the task at hand, burying his lips back under your ear, and you can hear how hard he's breathing, and before you can say anything, his lips are back on yours, his hand moving your legs open to give him more room.

“If—I'm too rough,” he growls, his voice resonating in your ear drums, “you need to tell me.”

Your pupils dilate. “You can do whatever you want to me,” you assert, “fucking ruin me— be as rough as you want, if that's what you want—”

“D- don't say that," he says, his lips brushing against yours. You bring your hand between his legs, wrapping it around his cock, pumping him once. He moans so loudly, it sounds like music to your ears, and then he pushes the tip of it against you. “I won't be able to control myself.” The blood rushes into your ears, your heart wants to sprint out of your chest.

“Fuck me, Simon,” you breath, barely audible.

That’s all he needed to hear.

“‘M gonna fuck you senseless.”

In a rush, he’s pushing your back into the bed, lining the tip of his cock up with your sopping entrance before he pushes the tip inside you, letting you adjust to his size. The stretch was a bit painful, but you didn’t let the pain stop you from releasing a deep seated moan. Your back arches as the sensation, a gargled moan erupting from the depths of your body. This only encourages him, as he starts to slide the full length of his cock into.

“Fu– fuck,” he moans, his voice husky and high-pitched, “y- you feel so fucking good, so fucking perfect—.”

He bottoms out, his hips meeting yours as he pants, his thumb coming up to rest on your clit once more. He stays completely still, feeling your tight pussy squeezing his hard cock just right. He growls and thrusts himself into you as far as he can. It's nearly too much, God, it's nothing like you've ever felt before. You can barely even breathe while he's pounding into you, you feel like you’re choking on air, your vision being taken up entirely by Simon. His body rocks in a steady pace against yours. 

“Too perfect—beautiful," he grunts. "You're so soft, so soft, and so wet—that's my good girl.”

Your face flushes at his praises, you want to shy away, too flattered by his words to even look at him. 

"Keep your eyes on me, love" he demands, pulling at your chin with his hand quickly, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

You feel giddy, pure bliss at the thought of him holding you in such high regard. He hits something deep inside you, and you moan as you're abruptly pulled into the sensation of him circling your clit as he fucks you into the mattress. A coil of heat builds faster by the second, your stomach muscles clenching. 

His hand comes back down to grip your waist, his hold tightening on you as he continues to thrust into you at a brutal pace. You grasp his neck, weak with the motion because every muscle in your body is fatigued from his unbelievable pace. He slides your hands down to his shoulders, grounding you as he keeps himself upright, continuing to slam his hips onto you. He massages your clit, knowing the way your cunt flutters around his cock, you’re close to another orgasm. You moan loudly, savoring the way the sound bursts out of you. 

“Fuck– fucking me so— so amazing,” you blubber, trying to convey how fucking amazing he’s making you feel right now. And then he's pulling back out, tearing into you again, and you can't even find the proper words in your head, you just listen to Simon absolutely fucking you into oblivion.

“You're squeezing around me— so perfectly, love,” he strangles out, and you feel his hips buck up against yours, and you try to find his collarbone, and you bury your face into it, leaving open mouthed kisses along his skin. You can hear Simon mewling against your ear, guttural and deep, and all you can do is close your eyes and attempt to stay in this moment forever. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum—” you blurt out.

“Good girl, cum for me, sweetheart,” he gasps, death grip on your hips.

The coil inside your core snaps as he hits the perfect spot inside you. You clench your eyes tight only to realize it's because you're in the middle of an orgasm, the rest of the world fading away, until it's just you and him.

“‘M gonna cum,” he blurts out, you feel his cock twitch inside you. You can feel him pulsating and throbbing as he grunts his way through his orgasm, breathing heavily and unloading his cum deep inside you. It was enough for you to see stars as his orgasm ripped through him, a loud moan pressed up against your neck escaping his lips as his cum filled you to the brim. He falls on top of you, sweat glistening on his forehead as he comes to take deep gulps of air. 

Neither of you say a word as you both catch your breath, brains fucked out. He rolls off of you, laying by your side as you both stare up at the ceiling.

“Holy fuck,” you say first. You're done for. Panting and worn out, you find yourself in the exact position he left you in. You try to move but can't seem to do so. You merely lie on your back and wait for the feeling to return to your body.

Simon turns back towards you, pushing himself to sit up, leaning over to stare at you. You reach a hand up, pressing it into his jaw

“You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart. Everything I ever dreamed about and more.”

You hum under him as he comes to lay his upper body on top of you, his fingers tangling into your hair as he stretches his muscles out. You turn your face just in time to feel all the oxygen rush out of your lungs the second he kisses you.

“Says you,” you murmur as he pulls away from the kiss.

Sleep threatens to take over both of you, waves of exhaustion and bliss intermingling. Simon stills on top of you, before flipping over on his back and pulling you on top of him. He takes your hand in his own, eclipsing it, squeezing it once, twice. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Hm?” you hum, nearly asleep.

“Let’s do this again tomorrow.” 

You press your face into his chest, he feels your smile against his skin.

"For the rest of time."

.

.

.

@neoarchipelago @allaboutirem0 @galagcica @alexia77 @rioluxx @madysato @ghostlythots @broken-kneecaps @poohkie90 @1-fuzzy-squirrels @simpingforfakes @kaysav608 @lieblinqs

[cass1dyyy]

“can i have this dance?”

warnings: a kiss on the cheek, angst, thats it i think. (hermione is not in this story btw)

lorenzo berkshire x reader

where a gryffindor who hates slytherins gets swept off her feet by one at the yule ball..

“are you guys really not going to dance at all?” i huff, exasperated.

im currently sitting down at a table with ron and harry, watching boredly as everyone dances with their partners. i’d had to go with harry to the yule ball, because i (embarrassingly) had no one else to go with.

“correct.” says ron, lazily manspreading next to me.

i roll my eyes. padma patil is also sitting with us, as she’d come with ron. bad luck for her i guess. suddenly, she’s swept off by a hufflepuff boy, who asks her to dance.

“arm, leg, im yours!” she says excitedly.

i groan, watching her leave. god, im not too fond of dancing, but anything would be better than this. i scan the large ballroom, and my eyes land on the slytherin boys. the only ones with dates are draco and blaise. the others just go with anyone they want, it gives them more freedom i suppose. then, i could’ve sworn i caught lorenzo berkshire’s eye. i brush it off, shaking my head. i mean, how could i have?

the music changes to a slow, romantic song. im just about to get up and leave to go to the bathroom to avoid the embarrassment, when ron speaks up, surprised.

“what the hell does that old git want?” he says judgmentally. i look up and follow his gaze, and see enzo berkshire walking towards us. ron’s right, what could he possibly want?

we watch cautiously, as he gradually comes closer, his stupid smirk plastered on his face. i frown at him, wondering if he’s confused or something. the slytherin boys hate our trio, and we hate them. what’s going on?? he walks up to us, and holds out his arm to me.

“can i have this dance?” he asks calmly, his lips curling into a smug smirk. i look at ron and harry, confused. they’re giving me a ‘dont you dare’ look. i mean.. its only one dance.. and i want to have a good night. the yule ball only happens once!

i take his arm, and he sweeps me away onto the dance floor. i dont bother looking back at harry and ron’s outraged expressions, i know that they hate lorenzo. my cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he grabs my waist, pulling me closer. i sling my hands over his neck, as we sway to the rhythm of the slow song.

“are you drunk?” i murmur to him. im still trying to wrap my head around the fact he’s asked me to dance, out of all these girls.

“what? no, of course not. why do you ask?” he asks, smiling slightly. gosh, sometimes i wish i could slap that smirk off his face.

“no reason.” i mutter.

after the song ends, he asks me if i want a drink. it surprises me, as i thought he’d just ditch me and go find another girl to flirt with. i excuse myself to go and ask harry and ron if they want one quickly. enzo doesnt mind, and kisses me on the cheek, before going to talk to one of his fellow slytherin mates. stunned, i turn on my heel and walk back to harry and ron.

“oh you’re finally back are you? have fun with that prat? you looked like you did.” snarled ron.

“what are you talking about? it was one dance, nothing happened!” i say, annoyed.

ron gets up, practically dragging harry with him. i run after them, furious. my heels click and clack as i walk frustratedly down the cold, uninviting hallway. suddenly, ron turns around.

“what the bloody hell do you want now?” he yells.

“why are you so fucking annoying? all i did was dance with someone, because youre too lazy to get up off your ass!” i scream at him, tears forming in my eyes. i know im ruining my makeup, but i dont care at this point.

“we all agreed that we hate them, and you just HAVE to rebel against the rules, dont you?” he spat.

“rebel? what is this, some sort of cult?!”

“im sick of this, why dont you go and get your face eaten off by that berkshire git? its all he wants from you. you’re stupid honestly, thinking he actually likes you.” he yells at me.

i stand there in shock, tears pouring down. harry and him run up the stairs, as ron mutters to harry,

“they get scary when theyre older.”

“ron, you spoiled EVERYTHING!” i yell at him. they rush off and i sit down on the stairs, yanking my shoes off, and start sobbing.

A/N: this was pretty bad im ngl, i kinda ran out of ideas at the end, so its pretty repetitive. my next post will be better i promise!

[jishyucks]

Gleam and Glitter — hhj

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

‣ wc: 3.4k

‣ summary: You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

‣ warnings: lots of being annoyed at the rich (even though reader and hyunjin are rich), 1st world problems, reader’s wearing a dress and heels but no specific pronouns are used (I’m pretty sure), the pair eat some desserts

‣ an: 2nd part for my True Love Gave to Me Series! It's a little slow at first but the parts near the end are cute! Just like the Mark one, I wish I could write more for these two, I srsly think I could've done more but still,,, ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

The venue was beautiful. 

The ballroom was transformed into the party’s theme, Winter Wonderland, adorned with white, silver, and royal blue decorations. From the ceiling hung giant snowflakes, lit up with twinkling lights that glowed softly within the dim room. 

The dance floor, placed in the middle of the room, was surrounded by tables draped in pearly white table cloths, giving it all a sleek, clean look. You can tell how much planning had gone into the centrepieces—delicate ice-looking glass sculptures of various animals. Within each of them were more lights, drawing out the details of the sculptures.

At the other corner of the room, the live band had already begun their setlist. They were dressed in blue or white, or both, as it was the theme of the party. You couldn’t quite tell what song they were playing, but it sounded nice and classy. 

And guests were trickling in, entering the room hand in hand with their plus ones. You can tell that they were all in awe from the scene. I mean you don’t blame them—the scene looked like something straight from a movie. Whoever had planned and decorated the venue knew what they were doing. 

The venue was beautiful… Too bad most of the people attending were snobby rich bitches who really don’t deserve anything good (respectfully).

The main purpose of the event was to raise money for charities involving children for god’s sake—sure it was okay to go all out and grab the attention of the wealthy, but it was so painfully obvious that two-thirds of the guests didn’t give a single fuck about the charities. They were just there for the publicity, hoping to look good in front of the press and it pained you. 

It pained you because, although you barely had the capacity to have passions for anything, you did know that you wanted to use your money for good. And heavy on the good for children.

The party was now in full swing, guests mingling in practically every corner of the room. The live band had just been replaced with a DJ, party songs blasting through the speakers. A small part of you does want to join in, but you wouldn’t say that you associated yourself with any of the people here. 

There was one person who you did love being around—your best friend, Hyunjin—but you simply weren’t sure where he had disappeared off to since you had greeted him at the start of the party. 

“Shit.”

You’re not sure how you hear Hyunjin groan as he slumps in the seat next to you. He stretches his back over the chair before falling limp. 

You can’t help but laugh, “What’s up with you?” You shift in your own chair to look at him, your blue evening gown getting twisted underneath your ass.

“My parents introduced me to like—I don’t know—six old business owners?” Hyunjin mutters, “I don’t even remember a single one of them.” 

“Well, you gotta start working on that future CEO,” you joke, slapping his back, “Don’t wanna be the boss who calls his employees by the wrong name, do you?” You know Hyunjin hates when you call him future CEO, because, well, he doesn’t actually want to take over his father’s company once he retires. But being the only child in his family, it’s a responsibility that he couldn’t really get out of.

“No,” he pouts, lips jutting out. 

You let out another laugh, this time rubbing his back to provide some kind of comfort. From a nearby group of people, you hear people laughing, though it didn’t seem genuine. You echo them. 

“Y/N, they’re gonna hear you!” Hyunjin nudges your arm. “No they won’t. They’re all just caught up in their own world,” You roll your eyes. Then you dramatically say, “Oh how I wish to leave this place.”

There’s a few beats of silence between the two of you. Just by watching Hyunjin, you can tell he’s thinking, eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading a page of a newspaper. 

“Would it be crazy if I asked you to run away with me?”

Your heart misses a beat, “What?”

“Run away with me,” Hyunjin repeats. He’s almost expressionless, staring back at you as he waits for a reply. 

You blink at your best friend, utterly confused by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “Hyunjin, you really need to be more specific with your words.”

Hyunjin brings a corner of his mouth up towards one side of his face, trying to word what he was asking of you. It wasn’t that difficult to explain, yet Hyunjin’s short on words right now because of all the introductions he’s just had. 

“Do you know what an Irish goodbye is?” 

You shake your head, “No? Is that even a thing?” 

“It’s when you just leave without telling anyone,” Hyunjin explains, “So… let’s leave without telling anyone.” There’s a youthful glint in his eye and you just know that Hyunjin’s ready to take off. He’s excited, even, just thinking about leaving and getting away from this place. You like the idea, too. 

“And do what?” Hyunjin shrugs and your face contorts, laughing, “You’re the one who’s suggesting to leave and you don’t have a plan?” 

The smile Hyunjin flashes is one that shows off his bottom teeth, brows raised and eyes widened, “Sorry, I didn’t actually think you’d consider it.” 

“Do you even know me?” you scoff, “Of course I wanna leave. Anything to get away from these people.” You scoot forward in anticipation to go, but you still really want to hear what Hyunjin’s plan is. 

Hyunjin searches the room as if it were going to hand him the answer. Then he hums and looks back at you, “Do you want to go downtown?” 

Without any hesitation you nod, “Yes.” 

Hyunijn watches as you scan the room, eyes trying to weed out your parents and his. You could guess they were speaking with people you’ve grown familiar with, so you try to pick them out, too. When you couldn’t spot any of your parents, your eyes darted in Hyunjin’s direction, eyes wide and round. “It’s clear.”

You don’t warn Hyunjin before you shoot up onto your feet, trying your best to keep discrete from any wandering eyes. The heels under your feet almost fail to support your pace, but you pay no mind, eyes dead set on the doorway furthest away from anyone’s attention. Hyunjin’s close at your tail, turning back every few steps to make sure that there was absolutely no one watching you both leave. 

The adrenaline’s causing your heart to pump above the average, and you can’t help but let out a laugh the moment you reach the door, soon finding yourself in an empty corridor of the venue (save for the doorman at the front and the woman attending coat check).

Hyunjin stumbles out after you, breathing heavily, “You didn’t even tell me you were going to take off like that!” 

Ignoring Hyunjin’s exclamations, you start making your way toward coat check, heels clicking against the marble floor. Hyunjin is unsure how you’re moving so quickly in heels, but he chooses not to question you.

“Y/N~” Hyunjin whines, “Slow down!”

“If we’re not quick we’re going to get caught,” you shoot a reply over your shoulder. You kindly ask for your coats, retrieving them within seconds before you toss Hyunjin his jacket. “Yeah, but we need to wait for Mr. Jang to come pick us up!” 

By the time Hyunjin finishes his sentence, you both find yourselves outside of the venue, cold air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. There were cars whizzing past, all probably on their way to your desired destination. Right at the bottom of the steps was a sleek black car, similar to what your family owned, and a man who you recognized as Mr. Jang, the Hwang’s driver. 

“So you did plan this!” you look over at Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, but Mr. Jang will jump at any chance to actually do something.” The boy leads you down the steps and reaches the vehicle before you do. He greets Mr. Jang with a bow and then tugs on the door’s handle, opening it for you to hop in. You can’t help but giggle at the gesture, giving Hyunjin a look before sliding in. He shuffles in after you, smiling out of excitement.

“Where to, son?”

“Downtown, please.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s when you both get to downtown that you realize that neither of you knew where to go. 

Sure, the plan was downtown but the city was a big place. Hyunjin should have been more specific, because right now, you were both standing in the middle of a busy street trying to decide which direction to go.

“Close your eyes, spin, and then stop when I tell you,” you suggest to Hyunjin, who’s trying to search his phone for any places you both could visit. 

“How about you do it!” Hyunjin’s brows furrow and he pouts, “It sounds like you’re going to ditch me.” 

“Now why the hell would I ditch you,” you sigh, “Just do it. I would do it, but I’m in heels.” 

You gesture for him to go on with the action, but not before he mutters a ‘the heels didn’t seem like a problem earlier’, earning him a thwack on his shoulder. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hyunjin sticks an arm out, using his index finger to point. Then, he begins to spin clockwise. From an outsider’s glance, this man probably looked ridiculous—he was dressed in formal attire and spinning like a top, almost taking out a few passerbyers in the process. 

You were finding this so amusing that you almost forgot that you had to tell him to stop. 

And when you tell Hyunjin to stop, he somehow ends up with his finger just inches away from your nose. You burst out laughing, your hands coming up to clutch your stomach because, for one, Hyunjin took the challenge seriously, and two, he looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there eyes closed and pointing. 

You don’t notice how Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open to see what was going on and how his taut expression relaxes the second they land on your bright figure just laughing, even if it is at his expense. His arm drops to his side, making a muted whap against his jacket. This catches your attention.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping a tear that has managed to slip out of the corner of your eye. And when Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, you take a step closer to him, “Hello?” 

“O-okay, so, that way!” Hyunjin’s brought back from space, head shaking. He side steps and walks around you, leading the way down the street while making sure you were following him. 

Hyunjin has no idea what just happened. It wasn’t like it was the first time he's seen you happy. In fact, you’ve always been happy around him. So, why did he suddenly freeze seeing you happy this time? 

Hyunjin shakes the thought out of his head, dismissing it as the remnants of wine from the party still in his system, and continues walking down the street, just a few paces in front of you.

You and Hyunjin weave through the people walking down the street against you, hands full with shopping bags or stuffed deep into their pockets. The pace Hyunjin had taken began to speed up, as if he had spotted something over the crowd that you couldn’t quite see even with heels. 

Glancing back, Hyunjin gently latches onto your wrist, afraid that you’d get lost in the sea of people, pulling you closer before he continues to step through the occasional gaps between bodies. 

“Where are we going?” you say out of curiosity. Hyunjin’s too occupied to answer you, still keeping his grasp firm around your wrist. He tugs you along for one more block, and by then you can tell that he did have an idea of where you were. Hyunjin knew where to go.

You feel like you’re able to breathe again when Hyunjin leads you into a plaza, and you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. There was more space for people to walk around, buskers at each corner of the opening, and restaurants decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. Some places were blasting Christmas tunes out of outdoor speakers and, from afar, you can see Santa Claus taking pictures with children. You feel your heart fill with warmth in the atmosphere, excited to wander around and kill time with Hyunjin. 

“Do you want to eat something?” Hyunjin questions. The boy halts in front of a food truck, head falling back to scan the menu. The food truck was a dessert truck—candied fruit, ice cream, cake pops, and more. You can see that they also sold drinks. 

You nod, “What are you getting?” 

“I’m thinking a cake pop… you?” The line shifts forward and you both take a step forward to follow. 

You hum and try to decide on your own treat, “Can you get me candied strawberries, please?” 

It takes a little bit to reach the front of the line and finally receive your food. When the man on the truck hands Hyunjin the food, you go to grab it but Hyunjin refuses to let you take it, pulling the treats back to his own body. “Huh?” you frown, “Do you want me to pay you back or something?” Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of the tanghulu. It was almost unrealistically red, like strawberries you’d find in cartoons. 

“It’s cold,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “You can keep your hands in your pockets… I’ll hold it for you.” Then he holds the stick up to your lips, “Here.” 

Your brows furrow and you groan, “Hyunjin, I’m capable of holding it myself, you know.” You’re quick to grab the stick from Hyunjin and give him a look, “But thanks anyway.” 

Hyunjin grins, "Alright, suit yourself." He takes a bite of his cake pop as you enjoy the sweetness of the candied strawberries. The plaza is filled with a festive atmosphere, and you decide to stroll the rest of the area while munching on the treats. 

By the time you were halfway finished with your food, you had been able to properly take in the scene of the plaza. It was actually much larger than it was at first sight, the area stretching down another block or two of buildings. It extended into a wide pedestrian mall, with shops busy on either side of the broad walkway. 

Everyone there looked happy, like characters in the background of a movie. They minded their own business, stopping to watch the street performers entertain the passerbyers, or taking impromptu stops at the local shops lined up along the mall.

And though it did seem like such a first world problem for you to want to experience this without the stress that your parents constantly impose onto you to run a company, you like to think that your feelings still count. Even just a little.

“Look over there,” Hyunjin speaks up. He’s pointing further down the road and into a smaller plaza. There were people skating on a small, man-made, ice rink. 

A gasp leaves your mouth as you when you take notice of the gigantic Christmas tree sitting off to the side of the rink. It had been strung from top to bottom in lights that occasionally changed colours. Ornaments decorated the tree with large ornaments, accented with ribbons and garland. 

It was beautiful. 

It was beautiful and you wanted to go get a better look at it. 

Leaving Hyunjin’s side, you begin walking ahead of him, long forgetting the tanghulu in your hand. And just like earlier, Hyunjin calls for you to slow down, mainly because you were charging through the crowd with a pointy skewer, but also because he cannot catch up. You paid no mind to his attempts to slow you down. You were already dead set on catching a closer glimpse of that tree.

Hyunjin reaches you when you finally choose to stop. Your head falls back to look at the tree from its topper to its base, mouth falling open in awe, “Tell me why I’ve never seen this before.” Then you turn to look at Hyunjin, who’s looking at the tree himself, “How do you think they decorated it?”

Hyunjin lets out a laugh in the form of air shooting out his nose, “Cause all we know is work and school and business. I guess we never really have the time to enjoy these things, do we?” Then he thinks up a clever answer for your second question, but fails, “And honestly, I don’t know. Maybe one of those man lifts?” 

“You’re right,” you laugh, “We need to Irish Goodbye more often if it means we get to see more things like this.” You glance around the area and find a bench nearby. Wordlessly, you grab onto Hyunjin’s sleeve and tug him along to sit. 

You can feel how cool the metal bench is through your dress, but you lean back anyways, continuing to admire the Christmas tree. It was weird because you were feeling this sort of delight growing in your chest just at the sight of the decorated tree, though if you were asked what you were feeling you wouldn’t be able to put words to it. It was like the cherry on top of the sundae, perfectly fitting the ambience of everything that you and Hyunjin have seen tonight. 

And for Hyunjin, sure the tree and the lights strung up all over the plaza were beautiful, but he was having a hard time keeping his attention on them, and instead kept taking glances your way. It was probably the fact that this happiness was different than the ones he’s seen before. It was like your inner child had jumped out, eyes filled with all the galaxies the universe held. 

The corners of his lips had stretched at the slightest, eyes following in pursuit. 

Hyunjin realizes now that if you were happy, he was happy. And he’d do anything to make it happen. 

But he wouldn’t admit that to you just yet. 

Or anyone. 

It was enough for now that he had admitted it to himself.

Feeling eyes on you, you catch Hyunjin looking at you, expression soft. "What's up with that look?" you tease, your eyes narrowing. You lean over and nudge his arm with your shoulder. 

Hyunjin feels heat rush to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of ears. He hopes that you don’t notice, “It’s nothing… just thinking about how we should actually do this more often.” Hyunjin pries his eyes away from you and forces himself to look at the tree which, frankly, wasn’t as pretty as you. 

“We should…” you nod, “This is way better than the gala.” 

Hyunjin agrees silently. 

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence, just taking in the environment. It wasn’t everyday that you both got freedom like this and it was nice. And you can tell that Hyunjin felt the same. 

Before you finally go to speak up after a while, your phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, your heart rate shoots up when you see it's your parents at the other end of the line. You quickly answer it to not cause suspicion, already sensing the concern in their voices.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, sweetheart, where are you?" your mom asks. You could hear your father’s voice saying something in the background, followed by another man’s voice. 

"I’m still at the venue," you lie, "I just needed to get air. Why?"

“We found the owner of—” You roll your eyes. Of course. 

“I’ll be right there, mom,” you say flatly, “Bye.” And you hang up. 

“So?” Hyunjin questions. You notice that he had shifted in his seat to look at you, “What did she say?” He didn’t want to get you in trouble. 

“She was talking about the owner of some company,” you shrug, “But that means we have to go.” 

You stand up and take one last look at the tree before you have to drag yourself back into your own reality. It was good while it lasted. 

Hyunjin frowns at your expression and gently takes your hand in his, “I’ll take you back here soon.”

You smile, eyes lighting up at the thought of coming back here again (and in much more comfortable clothes, too). “Promise?”

Hyunjin’s glad to see the joy instantly return to your previously deflating figure and nods.

“Promise.”

an: Thank you soso much for reading! Pls stay tuned for the upcoming members!

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Hii! Do you have any fics with either Izuku or Katsuki as dancers?

BakuDeku: Dancer AU 1 Series. 15 Works. 1 Illustrative.

Dance with Me by astralchaos ( T | 30,159 | 10/10 )

Mina pulled up a video of a young man, seemingly teen, dancing to a popular new hit, and Izuku felt his heart drop to his stomach. His skin prickled and felt clammy as he started sweating nervously, not daring to move or make a noise. His eyes were glued to the screen but he didn’t see anything – his brain was too busy going into overdrive and freaking out.

Because Mina was showing him a video of himself. The one he uploaded last night.

How on Earth did she find this? He had barely a few thousand views, he wasn’t popular, and it’s not like he was even any good, especially compared to her or Kacchan–

“That move was sexy as hell,” Kacchan said, and that was when Izuku realized that his childhood friend – his longtime crush – also leaned in to watch the video Mina was showing him.

Momentum by meteormind ( T | 59,588 | 3/3 )

"You be the girl," Katsuki tells him.

"But... we're both boys," the dummy says like Katsuki doesn't have eyes.

"So? There has to be a girl. And I'm taller." Katsuki skates his hand over the shrubby mess of Twig's hair to his own cheek. "See?"

"Why do you get to be the boy just because you're tall? There are tall girls too." Twig looks around the room at all the poofy-skirted girls. "I don't want to be the girl."

"Someone has to be the girl, and you already look like one so it might as well be you, ya girly twig-boy."

Twig gasps. "I am not a girly twig-boy!"

[Hiatus] I Dance For You by claramemories, fericide ( E | BKDK | 257,647+ | 24/35 )

Izuku Midoriya danced all his life. Born without natural talent, he devoted all his time to being the best and equal to his lost childhood friend-current rival Bakugou Katsuki.

Or ex-rival, more like.

After Izuku heard the news that cancer was eating him alive, he stopped dancing. He kept quiet, pulling up a fake smile, an act he thought went unnoticed by everyone around him.

But fuck, he was wrong, wasn't he?

In which Izuku Midoriya is running out of time, and Katsuki Bakugou is trying to revive what he has broken.

Dancing to a Love Song by EyndsOfTheEarth ( T | 13,349 | 1/1 )

Katsuki can’t stand Izuku, it’s just a fact. Yet somehow they still get paired together for an upcoming dance competition.

Oh my god- and they were rival dancers.

Fancy Footwork by GreenEyesSublime ( E | BKDK | 13,549 | 2/2 )

Izuku is a ballet dancer preparing for the biggest audition of his life - a spot with the acclaimed UA Ballet Company in Tokyo! After a nasty run-in a few months ago, his mother insists on his school hiring a bodyguard to keep him safe during the trip. Too bad the man they hired is hunky ex-boxer Katsuki, who has a fiery gaze and the bullish personality to match.

Will Katsuki prove to be more of a distraction or a motivation?

-- Or, dancer!Izuku is practicing for a big audition and bodyguard!Katsuki gets inspired to show off some of his own moves - both on and off the dance floor.

[Series] Steps of Us by schrijverr ( G&T | 21,642 | 2 Works )

Bakugo and Midoriya used to dance competitive ballroom together. When nightmares keep them awake they start dancing again and finding their friendship back as well. Until a dance lesson brings it to light.

Penché by QueerPinoy ( E | BKDK | 1,133 | 1/1 )

Midoriya is supposed to look delicate. The long arch of his back leading into slim legs and pointed toes is supposed to be elegant.

To Bakugou, it’s sexy.

From the darkness of the audience seats, he feels no shame staring blatantly as his ass, the bulge of his dick in his leotard, watches how high his leg can go and oh god, he wants him. He wants to devour the unblemished curve of his neck, break down everything that is graceful about him. He wants to fuck the angel right out of him.

Balançoire by SkantySkylar (SkarySkylar) ( E | DKBK | 27,951 | 3/3 )

“They will all love you,” He closes his eyes, listens to the applause. The roses at his feet smell like copper. Adoration glistens on each petal. “They will all love you.” . . . Katsuki is a ballerina. Izuku is a Classics Major. They fall in love. Somebody dies.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

tendrement by bazookangel ( T | 1,283 | 1/1 )

Being the first nationally recognized male pointe dancer in Japan, Izuku tends to push his wrecked body to the brink. Luckily, his partner Katsuki is always there to catch him.

‧₊˚˗ˏˋ 🩰 ˎˊ˗˚₊‧

tendrement: (adv.) tenderly, fondly, softly

To Dance With Moonlight by StevieBanks ( T | 8,675 | 1/1 )

Izuku steadies his breathing and wills his roaring heart to calm down. The blonde holds one of the red earbuds in his hand. His head tilts with a question.

"You dance?"

A silly question, but a question nonetheless.

"Nope," Izuku shrugs. "I just know the entire routine of 'Giselle, ou Les Wilis' for shits and giggles."

The blonde snorts a sound of amusement. "You know any other routines for shits and giggles then?"

"If you're here for the Summer Solstice Recital, then I know every act, scene, routine sequence, and musical number."

"Huh." The blonde gets to his feet and steps closer. He tosses the left earbud in Izuku's direction. "Then dance, nerd."

Izuku catches it with a quick hand. A smile on his face and a quip on his tongue. "You gonna join me, pretty boy?"

Only Wanna Dance With You by FatalFanfiction ( E | BKDK | 3,652 | 1/1 )

“AND THE WINNER IS…”

Katsuki knew this was his— it had to be. The tension in the air was suffocating and if he had a less level head under stress, he probably would have fainted from forgetting to breathe. He was standing on stage, an audience in front of him and his dance crew behind him. This was the first year in his ten years of competitions that Katsuki competed in a mixed tournament— Ballet, Ballroom, Tap, Hip Hop, and Jazz all competed against one another. 

Katsuki never fuckin’ lost, okay? 

(Hint: He loses.)

[AUgust Writing Challenge: Dance]

Sing a Song of Symphony by Justanotherorange ( T | 3,796 | 1/1 )

Oneshot for the UADA AU created by Kinnme on tumblr. Inspired by the song "Symphony" by Clean Bandit.

Katsuki figures out his feelings towards a certain green-headed boy with an annoyingly admirable and heart-pounding taste in musical inspiration.

[Abandoned] You Keep Me on My Toes by Fawn_Eyed_Girl ( E | BKDK | 30,474+ | 7/10 )

After seven years in the States, contemporary dancer Bakugō Katsuki has returned home to audition for the prestigious Endeavor Dance Company, with hopes of scoring a principal position. He’s trained long and hard for this moment, giving up a chance to audition for American companies, to stand in the spotlight on a home stage.

But the day of his audition, he’s astonished to see a shock of green curls, and a face he left behind years ago: Midoriya Izuku, his former best friend and dance rival, who Katsuki had once said didn’t have what it took to be a dancer.

How did Izuku get there? Why is he, all of a sudden, so ridiculously good? And, most importantly… Why is he now so hot?

Katsuki doesn’t know, but he’s determined not to allow lingering feelings in his heart to overcome his ambition…if he can help it.

With incredible art by MeowMonster!

[Abandoned] Moonlight Sonata by Silver_Weasel ( M | 16,164 | 3/5 )

As Izuku follows the smooth rhythm of Katsuki's fingers on the ivory keys, his moves slow down with the music. He finishes with a raising of his arm, reaching for the ceiling and his fingers are loose, but not without purpose. Nothing was ever done without purpose as he danced over Katsuki's music like it was Mozart's most inspiring piece.

In which Katsuki, a young ambitious pianist, is forced to serve as an accompanist for ballet rehearsals. That's how he meets Izuku, a promising dancer who'll be quick to change everything he thought he knew about music.

Pas de Deux by orabid_rabbito ( T | 2,830 | 1/1 )

Bakugou Katsuki is devastated by his growth spurt.

It came before the other kids. His legs are too dangly, his arms are too long, his chest is bigger now. All of those new changes in his body are messing with his sense of balance and his weight distribution.

A cardinal sin for a ballet dancer.

Stubbornly telling himself he would not let this come into his way, Katsuki did his very best at all rehearsals, coming early for his dancing class, and leaving after everybody else, trying to minimize the effects of his precocious puberty of affecting his dance.

Still, he wants to cry when he sees shitty Deku name selected for the Pas de Deux in the next performance.

Katsuki trains more than anyone else, and now, he does it to the point of exhaustion, the knot at the bottom of his stomach pushing him forward. He won't lose again. He can't.

What the dancer doesn't know, is that Izuku watches him. Every day, every time he stays behind to work on his stance, the greenette stays behind as well, transfixed by the raw talent and power unfolding in front of him.

Come Dance With Me by oolongmilktea ( E | BKDK | 4,966 | 1/1 )

When discussing who's going to be in which team for their second U.A. school festival performance, Katsuki claimed that he's going to be on the dance team this time around. With no one believing him, the class taunts him to show off his dance skills. Not backing down from a challenge, Katsuki drags Izuku into the demonstration, reminding him of their history as competitive Latin dancers back in their younger years.

Things get heated.

*October Prompt Fic

*P.S. I suck at summaries.

UA Dance Academy by Kinnme ( WIP | Street Dance AU )

Story in illustrations that takes place in an alternative universe where the characters have no quirks, they're just normal human beings who dance. The main Academy is a school of arts and dance. WARNING, story contains KatsuDeku and TodoDeku, male/male, also angst, stay away if you don't like the subject please.

Other Links: Character Designs

To see the original 2018 post, click here.

[suzy-queued]

The Lord and the Footman // Master Post

Lord Ian stood at the edge of the ballroom, stiff and bored. 

Shaina from Pinehall twirled in her gown. Viviette of the Meadows curtsied with a gleam in her eye. Pandering fools, all of them. 

The Duke shook Ian's shoulders. “Oh, come on. There's not a maiden here who can please you?”

Ian turned to leave … and stopped in his tracks.

Viviette's footman approached, dressed all in black with haunting blue eyes and a tempting smirk. He slipped a note to Ian. Garden arch. Midnight. Alone.

Ian palmed the scrap of paper, feeling like his future burned in his hand.

---

Ian fidgeted in the garden at midnight. His curiosity hadn't spiked this high in years … if ever.

The dark stranger stepped out of the shadows. Smoldering. Mysterious. Confident. “Is the ball to your liking?”

“It's serviceable. Smooth ale. Talented musicians.”

“You're a terrible liar.”

Who was this man, who rejected the pleasantries of court and spoke freely? Ian liked it. A lot. He relaxed against the railing. “The women are boorish. It's all lace and gossip and dance cards.”

“There's only one dance card worth your attention tonight.”

“Whose?”

The man stood tall and held out his ungloved hand. “Mine.”

---

The footman began with a two-hand turn once round, followed by a half figure-eight.

Ian caught on quickly, hearing music lilting from the main hall. They danced the Barham Down.

How odd that the shorter man led. Odder still, Ian followed the moves effortlessly.

This man was born to lead him. Sure-footed. Piercing. Strong.

They moved down an imaginary line. They gateposted around an invisible couple. They danced until the violins stopped and Ian stood breathless, heart thumping.

The footman released him. “You weren’t meant for that world. You were meant for me.” He bowed and disappeared into the shadows.

---

A minute passed. A few. The stranger was indeed gone.

“Bollocks.” Ian ran. 

He climbed the steps to the estate. No footman in sight. 

Ian hurried through the doors of the ballroom. The dancers squealed and begged him to join them. 

He flattened outside the doors, holding his pounding heart, thinking of blue eyes. You're driving me wild.

Reins cracked, and a carriage flew down the drive—Viviette's carriage, with her footman hanging off the back.

Ian wanted to follow, to throw himself in the vehicle’s path and demand that they stay. 

He'd never ever wanted to be so bad. 

---

Lord Ian ran into his father's bedchamber.  “Get up.”

The Duke rubbed his eyes and checked the mantel clock. “It's 3:15 in the morning. You should sleep.”

“I don't want to sleep. I request an audience.”

“An audience?” The Duke's eyes opened wider, suddenly interested. “With a lady?” 

“Viviette of the Meadows. Can we call on her?”

His father looked far too pleased. “We'll go this very day.”

Ian's mind raced with memories of strong arms leading him through a swing. The footman’s elderberry cologne had intoxicated him.

Something tells me I'm right about you. Don't prove me wrong.

---

Viviette received Ian in the Meadowbrook Manor parlor. “I’ve written something for you.” She blushed and clutched parchment. "He is the sun, beaming down on me…" 

Insufferable. Ian scanned the crowd. Sisters, aunts, the Duke. He finally spotted Viviette’s footman at a backdoor post. 

"He is the rain, gentle but intense…"

The man wore black and smirked, even more intriguing in the daylight.

"He is all things good." Viviette finished with a flourish. "Do you like it, Lord?"

Ian stared, enamored, sighing. "Gods, yes."

Viviette beamed at the misdirected compliment. 

Confound this charade. Ian needed to get that man alone.

---

Pianoforte. Scones. Gossip. Court pleasantries choked the joy from Ian’s day. 

On a manor tour, deep in the bowels of the wine cellar, he finally drew away from Viviette.

The footman hung back and nodded. “M’lady is pleased to see you here.”

“And you?”

A hungry gaze. “You are tolerable.”

Lord Ian had but seconds before he’d be missed. He slipped his signet ring into the footman’s hand.

“What’s this?”

Ian burned with the illicitness of it all. “A promise.” His lips parted with want. “I’ll persist until you’ll have me.” 

The footman purred into Ian’s ear. “You’re already mine.”

---

Ian’s horse trotted lazily through the forest, only to be sideswiped by the footman’s mustang.

Viviette gasped, on her white steed. “Mikhailo is such a wild rider. If you’re not careful, he’ll crash into you.”

Ian liked wild. Speed. Crashes.

Screw the propriety of the afternoon ride. He kicked his horse into a gallop.

He caught up to Mikhailo, and they raced through the oaks. Laughter. Wind. Tongues out.

Ian overtook him, blocked his path. He dismounted. “Off your horse, Mikhailo.”

The footman smirked. “That’s Mickey to you, Lord.” His boots hit the ground. He closed the gap between them.

---

In a private grove of trees, Ian advanced on Mickey. Their eyes burned. Their noses grazed. 

“How long?” Ian hoped his eyes said the rest. How long has this obsession lasted?

Mickey stayed focused. Hard. Challenging. “Since autumn.”

“Ten months?”

“Autumn ten years ago.”

“Good god.” Ian shoved against him, tangling their legs, working him to the ground. He cupped Mickey’s cheek. “Why emerge from the shadows now?”

“You’re interviewing wives. It’s now or never.”

Ian’s body pulsed. His chest heaved against Mickey’s. “A wife won’t satisfy me.” He lowered, lips parted.

Viviette’s voice cut through the grove. “Lord Ian?”

---

Ian jumped to a stand, frantic, guilty. He brushed leaves from his tailcoat.

Viviette ducked into the grove. “Everything okay?”

Mickey arched his brow. “Your lord’s a right klutz.” 

Ian caught on quickly. “Um, yeah. I let the reins slide and couldn’t recollect them. Idiot mistake, really. Your footman assisted me when I fell.”

Viviette’s gaze ping-ponged between them. Curses. She knew. This dalliance would end before it even began.

She clasped her hands. “Oh, my poor Ian. Let’s get you inside so you can rest.”

Mickey smirked.

God, the thrill of nearly being caught set fire to Ian’s veins.

---

The library. The lounge chair. Ian pulled a compress from his forehead. “I propose an arrangement.” He stood, woozy with excitement. “The fox hunt is coming up, and I need a riding coach. I’ll call on Meadowbrook Manor weekly so your footman can train me.”

Viviette fawned. “Every week? I get all that time to be with you?” 

Mickey coughed possessively. “You’re a weak rider, Lord. You need consistent practice.”

Ian fought to keep the smile from taking over his face. “What do you suggest?”

Mickey’s stare simmered with unfulfilled desire. “At least three days a week of … rigorous instruction.”

---

Back home, in the study, Ian floated on the memory of blue eyes and that smart mouth.

The Duke handed him a letter requiring a wax seal. “Where’s your signet ring?”

“Guess it slipped off at Viviette’s.”

“No doubt when you and the footman were off gallivanting in the forest.”

“I —”

“I’m your father. It’s my job to monitor every tic on your face. You’re grinning like a loon — and it has nothing to do with that maiden.” The Duke growled. “Whatever you’re playing at, stop now. The future of this estate rests on you.” 

Ian’s blood turned to ice.

---

Dawn. Ian and his thoroughbred emerged from their stable. It’d be the first — and last — day of riding lessons. 

The Duke prowled by the gate. “Come nightfall, you’ll be single or promised to Viviette. No other options. Hear?”

Ian stayed numb.

Along the journey, his tears flowed. He hugged his horse’s neck. “I have a secret, Santana. I’m in love. The day our lips touch, my fate’ll be sealed. No other lover will live up.”

Ian reached the imposing rock wall of Meadowbrook. “I can’t possess him, yet I can’t live without him. What the hell am I to do?”

---

Vivette and her footman trotted up on their horses, rosy-cheeked from their morning ride. 

Cruel fate. Of course they’d be together. 

Viviette smiled. “M’lord. Have you breakfasted?” 

Ian felt ill. He needed Mickey alone, posthaste, but there’s no way the footman knew him well enough to intuit the turmoil inside Ian’s soul, the angst he needed to unload, the cancer eating away at their blossoming happiness and the unfairness of societal – 

Mickey leaned in, concerned. “Carriage house. The one that looks like a gingerbread house. Meet me there in twenty.”

Oh, sweet shared malaise! Mickey understood his torment after all.

---

Ian fled the manor with coffee cake crumbs still dusting his upper lip. He made it to the door of the carriage house.

Mickey – celestial, bewitching Mickey – polished a bronze bridle. His hand froze.

They stared, the space between them infinite.

“Mickey, I –”

The footman tossed his rag and closed the distance. He met Ian with fiery force. Lips collided. Arms embraced. Hearts yearned. Souls intertwined.

Mickey paused. “Should we…”

Had Ian breathed before this moment? Had his heart loved ‘til now? “Give me my sin again.” He resumed his devouring.

They’d talk eventually. For now, only Mickey’s lips mattered.

[avocado-writing]

What if after the dance scene Wyll wasn’t as much of a ~gentleman~ and put his Disney prince persona aside for one night???

pairing: wyll x reader

rating: E

words: 1.3k

Pt1

You are lovely.

Ever since you convinced him to come to this party he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. You were as good as your word about your performance, hopping up on a crate repurposed as a stage and pouring your heart into your lute - all the time throwing him glances and winks. It made him hot under the collar, and not for the first time Wyll is glad that his new demonic features make it more difficult to detect a blush.

You danced with him as much as the other partygoers would let you. Harmless little ballroom-adjacent two-steps to start with, getting more joyous as the night went on; you made him help you teach the children how to dance a weave and he thrilled every time your hands brushed together. By the end of the night your arms were looped around his neck, face sleepily tucked into his shoulder as you moved together to the memory of music.

He is so glad he didn’t spend the night alone by the river.

But gods, he is suffering.

Eventually he manages to pull himself away from you under the guise that he’s going to retire for the evening. This seems plausible enough: it is late after all and most people have settled down, nodding-off children carried in the arms of adults for one more night of safe slumber before a long journey to Baldur’s Gate. The party seems to be over.

That is not the reason he hides.

Wyll has been spending the last half an hour desperately trying to hide the fact he’s hard from you. At half-mast at least, and the feeling of you up against him… gods, of your body pressed to his…

He knows it would be improper to do what he longs to do: drag you to his bedroll and spend all night worshipping you with his tongue, his hands, his cock. There is a decent way to do these things and he has too much respect for you to ask for it otherwise. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s aching in his trousers, though, so he bids you goodnight, ignores the bittersweet look in your eye as he heads off, and practically legs it to his tent.

The second the fabric of the door comes down behind him, he unlaces his fly and slips out, taking himself in his hand and trying not to groan.

He can still smell you on him. Whatever scent you wear is rich and sweet, like freshly spiced apple cider. He can feel the ghost of your touch on his skin, not shying away like he was worried you would after Mizora wrecked him, but leaning into him with love.

He begins to move his hand up and down his cock, using the other to clamp over his mouth. Despite everything he still wishes that it was your fingers doing this, not his own, and he begins to rut properly into his own palm, gods, yes, just a little sigh of your name and…

“Wyll I wanted to ask– oh.”

His head snaps around. There you are, door falling closed as you’ve entered his tent, eyes on where he’s fisting himself. Ears pricked to the moan he just let out.

His mouth goes slack. Fire floods his face.

“Gods, I am so, so sorry, I never meant for you to…”

But you don’t look disgusted. In fact, he can see the way a smile is pulling at the corners of your mouth, the way you’re approaching him, closing the small distance and then oh god there is your hand over his.

“Can I help? Please?” you ask, wide eyed and sincere. It is a punch to the gut, stealing his breath, stealing his breath, and Wyll cannot form words to properly answer.

You should not do this. They are worth waiting for, doing this properly, his head reasons.

But his soul cries out for you, so he nods. Maybe it is not so bad to give into temptation.

Your lips capture his in a searing kiss and suddenly it is your hand on his cock, not his, and gods it is wonderful. You stroke him languidly, fingers curious to explore the ridges his body has gained since Mizora’s curse. He feels you smile as your tongue meets his.

“Oh, Blade of Frontiers,” you whisper, “this is a mighty fine weapon…”

He laughs, and it breaks some of the tension, encouraging him to kiss you more fiercely. He lets himself rut a little into your hand. You are good, so so good, and he wants you like he’s never wanted anything before. He needs you more than he needs air, and oh gods when you reach up to stroke one of his horns –

Wyll gasps at the shock of pleasure which lightnings through him. You pull back, eyes wide in the fear that you might have done something wrong.

“Those are… sensitive,” he manages through gritted teeth. You get a devilish look on your face.

“What a wonderful revelation,” you sigh, and then the two of you are no longer standing, you’re lying on his bedroll together. Clothes come off in a desperate scramble of hands from two people who have been wanting this since they met, and have no reason not to indulge each other. Wyll flips you onto your back and you let out a little yelp of enthusiasm, arching your body up into his touch as he slide his cock along the fold of your thigh and hip. His leg meets your sex and you groan at it, the friction mutually delicious.

“Tell me you want this. If you desire me to stop, I will. I will wait for as long as you want me to,” he says between kisses. You wrap your arms around his neck and meet his eyes, sincere even when blown wide with lust.

“I want this. I want you,” you whisper, and his cock finds your entrance and slides in. You throw your head back in rapture as he begins to cant his hips, sliding in a little more each time until he he fully sheathed. The hot clench of you is delicious, it is heaven, and Wyll has to put all of his effort into making things slow and sweet like you deserve rather than losing himself in you. 

Your hands are everywhere. His back, his face, oh gods his horns, hanging onto him in desperation as he begins to fuck you in earnest. The thick head of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, the ridges given to him popping in and out of your hole with every thrust and driving you wild. This form might have been put upon him as a punishment but the two of you are enyoing every second of it here.

When your legs wrap around his waist, ankles crossed to drive him in deeper, he knows he is not long. You have devoured him, his soul and body, he is dedicated to you - he has never felt this way about someone before. As his hand reaches between your bodies to stroke you he pictures what he wants to give you: a lovely house, a happy marriage, as many children as the two of you can handle –

He spills inside you as your hole flutters around him, and you come all over his thighs. He silnces your orgasm with another kiss, and as the two of you return to the world he holds you tightly in his arms.

“Was that alright?” is all he can think to ask, and you laugh. Half because that is a silly question, he is still inside you right now, and half because you’ve been wanting this with your whole being since you first met him.

“More than alright. I’d have you, Wyll, in every way I can, forever. If you let me.”

His grin is felt against your mouth in his kiss.

“I do.”

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @somethingblu3

[valkyyriia]

Hello! If the request are still open I’d like to make one 😊 This is my first time requesting something so I apologize if I missed anything 🙏🏻

I’d like to request Comte as the suitor(established relationship) and rain for the prompt. Thank you 😊

A Deluge of Feelings

Words: 1401 CW: None | SFW Tags: Fluff, Non-Sexual Nudity, Google Translate French, Spoilers for Comte's name, Minor Characters from Comte's Route Prompt: Comte + Rain Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain / Reader

Note: Absolutely no worries Hikari! There's a first time for everything 😊 Glad to have another Comte enjoyer here! He's my favorite suitor!

I had several other ideas for this fic that I ended up stashing away for a rainy day (pun fully intended). I really do love Comte. ♥

Also posted on AO3 here.

When you left for the ball earlier this evening, the sky had been clear; nary a cloud in sight. The sun had been near setting when you had climbed into the carriage, its rays painting the evening sky with gorgeous shades of peach and orange. You made a mental note to ask Vincent - or Leonardo, if he felt productive - to try to paint a nineteenth-century Paris sunset for you one of these days.

So when you heard the telltale rumbles of thunder in the distance soon after arriving, it caught you - and your partner - by surprise. You had been talking to your friend, a nobleman's daughter by the name of Claudine, when the manor's windows rattled from the shockwave. Rain began to fall in light droplets, a soft pitter-patter cascading against the roof. Your partner, the ever-elegant Comte de Saint-Germain, quickly made his way to your side.

"Claudine, it's always a pleasure to see you," he greeted the other girl amicably. She curtsied and addressed him in kind, before excusing herself with a cheeky grin in your direction. Your response was a not-so-ladylike roll of the eyes, your own attention returning to the nobleman by your side.

Le Comte watched her walk off, his brow furrowed. The way girls behaved was still a mystery to him, even after God knows how many centuries of life. He would always be doomed to wonder in this regard, he supposed. Some things weren't meant to be understood.

Returning to the matter at hand, Comte placed a large hand on your back and drew you close, kissing your temple and murmuring into your ear. "We should try to get home before it gets any worse, Ma Chérie. I don't want to stay out and risk you catching cold or us getting stuck in town."

He swiftly guided you towards the doors of the manor house to call for your carriage. The rain, however, had other ideas. As you neared the door the soft droplets turned into a torrential downpour; sheets of rain fell from the sky like gauzy curtains, obscuring all but the brightest of lights. Water ran in dark, snaking rivulets across the cobblestone paths,

The pureblooded vampire exchanged a quick word with the coachman by the door. The watery onslaught was so deafening you were unable to make out much of what they were saying, but you assumed it had something to do with the carriages.

After a moment, your hypothesis was confirmed. Comte turned to you, an apologetic smile on his face.

"We won't be able to take a carriage back to the mansion in this weather, between the flooding and the low visibility. The coachman isn't certain they'd even be able to make it to the city's residential district with how bad it is," he said, kissing your forehead. "For now, we should just try to enjoy ourselves for a bit longer and hope the rain passes by."

The two of you returned inside, le Comte remaining by your side this time. He continued to greet the other nobles who approached the two of you, his hand secure on your hip. You stood by him, a placid smile on your face as you played the part of a nobleman’s partner.

Soon, you found yourselves dancing together on the ballroom floor, enjoying each other’s company as you waited for the storm to subside. Unfortunately, it seemed as though there was no end in sight. The rain continued to pour, quickly dashing any hopes you had had of returning home tonight. Normally this situation would bring you stress, but you found the thought of being stranded in town for the night didn’t bother you that much. You were with Comte, and you knew that he would stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Le Comte checked his pocket watch, a graceful frown marring his face. It had gotten quite late already, and with no sign of the rain letting up, your choices were dwindling. At your questioning glance, he smiled reassuringly.

“These things happen. We can predict the weather, but we can’t ever be fully certain how it’s going to be. It’s no matter,” Comte spoke, lovingly brushing a stray hair out of your face. “We will just have to brave the weather and head for a nearby inn, I’m afraid.”

Before you could speak up, you were interrupted by a familiar, loud voice.

“Ah, Comte de Saint-Germain,” he said. You immediately recognized this as the Duke de Guermantes, Comte’s friend and Claudine’s father. He smiled at you, greeting you as well.

You knew the Duke de Guermantes rather well, all things considered; he was the father of one of your only female friends in this time period, as well as a friend of Comte’s.

“Monsieur le Duc,” you replied in kind with a curtsy.

He turned back to le Comte with a friendly smile. “I see the two of you are stuck in town for the evening, non? The carriages won’t run in this weather.”

“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Comte agreed with resignation. “We had hoped the rain would let up long enough for us to return home, but I suppose le des intempéries had other plans.” He smiled amiably. “We were going to brave the outdoors soon and go to one of the inns nearby for the evening.”

The Duke de Guermantes shook his head dramatically. “I think not! I would make quite the poor host to force one of my dearest friends and his partner leave the safety and comfort of my home in un orage. Non, you shall stay here for the night.”

Le Comte’s features were painted in surprise. “Are you certain? I would hate for us to impose on such short notice.”

“Nonsense,” the Duke waved him off. “I shall not hear of it. You could never impose.”

“Merci beaucoup,” Comte said. “We are very grateful for your hospitality.”

Soon, you were both shown to a guest room in the Duke’s manor. Rain still beat against the windows, drowning out any other sounds.

Comte stepped up behind you, his hands deftly picking out several of the pins holding your hair up. As your hair came loose of its confines, his fingers gently combed through the strands. You sighed into his touch.

Comte’s hands slid down to your shoulders and he kissed the top of your head.

“Je t’aime,” he murmured, turning you around in his arms and brushing a hand against your cheek. “I am sorry we could not make it home tonight, Ma Chérie.”

You smiled back at him, leaning into his palm. “It’s alright, Abel. I’m happy to go anywhere so long as it’s with you.”

Le Comte’s golden eyes were filled with an indescribable deep emotion in response to your words. His hand drifted to your chin and tilted it up, his lips crashing into yours for a hungry kiss. He soon broke away from you, grimacing in discomfort.

You frowned, your hand cupping his cheek. “What is it, Abel?”

He just shook his head in response and took your hand in his, pulling it from his face. Your eyes widened in understanding.

“When did you last eat?” You murmured.

His eyes drifted to yours and he smiled knowingly. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured. “Not for anything but you, at least.”

Your cheeks flushed, but your frown deepened. You went to step away but his other hand came to grasp your waist and hold you there.

“It will pass, as it always does,” he assured you. “Un moment, s’il vous plait.”

You turned back around and began to unlace your dress. You were surprised when his fingers joined yours almost immediately, assisting you in shedding the garment. His fingers lightly skimmed over the skin that was now laid bare before him.

“You are beautiful, Ma Chérie. I still find it hard to believe that in the endless sea of eternity, I found you.” He kissed your bare shoulder. “However much I should like to ravish you this evening, I fear we must get to bed,” Comte sighed. “We still have to head back home in the morning and I think we should not abuse le Duc’s hospitality.”

With a pout, you agreed and crawled into bed with him, nestling against his warmth comfortably. He kissed your forehead. “Bonne nuit, mon amour,” Le Comte whispered. “Je t'aime, maintenant et pour toujours.”

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother

@fang-and-feather @candied-boys

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[blackllghtshadow]

The temptation of desire

Summary: you are Astarion invites you to a vampire ballroom, he gets so exited that you end in your room with him pressing you against a wall

Warning: +18 content, explicit, sex, blood.

You have been warned!

The ballroom was big, elegant, in the land of vampires was where you were, a human who was in a vampire's ballroom, the place was mesmerizing, the chandeliers shining, the vamps talking one another, all dressed in amazing clothes. 

To be honest you were only there because a certain vampire asked you to go with him, you heard that sometimes vampires would invite humans into their grand parties, living, walking food to play around a bit, and satisfy their carnal desires. 

Astarion had sent you a bright elegant vampire dress that had a revealing of most desirable parts of human flesh, your long hair was styled so your neck could be seen, the dress was open in the chest area, revealing the slight curve of your breasts and nothing but the grace of god holded the fabric from moving, it also was corseted to show the feminine curves that your body owned with pride, the dress was shorter from the front showing part of your thigh and long on the back, you had a necklace around your neck, Astarion called you delightful sensual while he placed the necklace around your neck, Honestly you were not okay with him calling you that, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you and jump your bones at the same time, he didn't. 

So here you were standing alone in a vampires party, you looked around for one particular vampire, all you could see was the numerous vamps around you, some of them holding wine glasses with a crimson liquid that wasn't wine exactly, the vampires had a liquor called Bloody Ambrosia it was a mixture of blood with gin, you on the other hand hold a glass of a Bloody Mary, a classic cocktail that for some reason the ball had, After what seemed an eternity you felt a hand on your hip and you looked to your side, Astarion was standing there smiling at you, flashing his fangs at you like if that would make you drop your panties. 

It didn't have an affect on you, you already knew him, you knew what he wanted by the look he gave you, you just slapped his hand off your hip, he frowned tilting his head. “What's the matter?” he asked lost in why his charms didn't have affect on you, for all he knows every human especially woman, felt for his charms, this wasn't supposed to go like that in his mind you were a total enigma, and that pulled him to try and get you were he wanted you, around him, on top of him, in front of him, next to him, under him. his mind was racing with everything that would happen once he had you. 

You were about to answer when a inviting music started to play, It was time for the vamps to dance, you look around and saw many vamps offering they're hands to other vampires, some were offering a dance to some human woman as well, you were all so surprised by the sights that you didn't realize that Astarion was offering his hand to you “may you join me in this dance? “ he says and your attention goes to the vampire, you policy accept his offer and take his hand, he moves you to the center of the ballroom where other vampires were gathered with their dance partners, Astarion's hand went to you hip and the other to out other hand and he hold you close, the music start and you start to dance, dancing and swirling you around with almost no effort, your ere shocked by this revelation. 

As the dance continued he looked at you “you look” he stops his eyes going to your cleavage, you want to slap his face but you can't at the moment, “I don't think that tonight I can hold back” he rasps out, you gasp at his words, after the dance you all but power walk away from the ballroom, a really bad idea now that you got your vampire hungry for a taste of you and it isn't your blood what he wants to taste, you enter your room, but when you close the door the door doesn't do the clicking sound, instead it's flesh that slams the door, you hear him before you see him, you look to your back and there he is Astarion is looking you up and down trading every detail of your body with his gaze, he gets near you in two long strides, “why are you running, I promise I'll make you feel good” he moans out, she step back but he holds to you, “relax and please give me the permission, this way we are both free to devour one another” you look at him trying to deny that you actually wanted it, you finally give in and accept it, giving him one nod with you head “say it” he whispers millimeters away from you “I need you to say it” he waits so patiently, “I want you” you finally say and with that you feel his lips crashing to you, you kiss him like your life is about to end right there, he holds you firm against you, a moan scapes your lips wile you make out with the vampire that you promised yourself that you wouldn't fall for. 

*he pushes you to the wall, holding your legs around his waist he pushes your dress up and then looks down braking the kiss, he looks at your panties like he hates them, in a fast motion he pushes them aside and the whatever he sees makes him growl, you pussy react to that growl and a jasp scapes your life, he makes quick work on his pants pulling them down letting them fall to the floor, he kicked them off as he pushes himself deep without warning, you hiss at the sting of pain and pleasure your walls stretching to accommodate him, he waits there kissing your civage while you get used to his length, “Astarion, move” your hands go to his hips urging him to move, but he shakes his head “you are still to tight, I'm afraid you will feel pain if I move” he rasps out, you can tell that the simple act of keeping himself restrained is hard for him, you try to urge him again, cupping his well formed ass with your hands, he growls “you're gonna be the death of me” he growls and with that he is thrusting deep in you, you moan as his tip abuses your g-spot, you move your arms to hug him around the neck your fingers through his silver locks as your back arches and you burry his face onto your breasts, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth teasing it with his fangs, as he doesn't stop loving his hops, your hips making that satisfying clap each time he thrusts in, “oh god, Astarion” you scream his  ame as your orgasm runs through you, but he doesn't stop fuking you through your orgasm, your vision turns black for some second, when you come back he was there looking at you, “dead, you fuking killed me” you gasp out, a satisfied him comes to his lips, “well, I told you, you would like it” he said teasingly, you are still panting but something tells you that tonight you won't sleep at all.

[thedeathlysallows]

Last Christmas

Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader

Summary: This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special

Warnings: smut. p in v, Dom!Felix, spanking, blood play, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

With Thanksgiving over and my birthday on the horizon, the Christmas season has started for me (though tbh I am in fact one of those people who loves Christmas year round). So enjoy this celebratory story!

"This is a disaster," you complain to no one in particular. "I can't believe I got roped into this."

When Gianna approached you about attending her work's Christmas party you had initially declined. You've seen her paychecks, her apartment, her wardrobe. It's a whole fucking lot. There's absolutely no way you could confidently rub elbows with the people she works with.

But then she gave you the puppy dog eyes.

And then she gave you an "old dress" of hers that just so happened to be your exact size.

On top of all that, she also gave you a matching pair of heels and a new purse.

You couldn't say that after being so spoiled by your best friend.

"Oh, hush," Gianna tells you. "This isn't so bad."

"We're in masks!"

She shrugs. "It's a masquerade. You should be a bit more grateful, ya know. If you weren't here with me you would be at your own work function with-"

You raise a hand, effectively cutting her off. "Don't. I don't want to think about him."

Gianna lifts a brow, her eyes silently teasing you as she hides her smile behind her wine glass. "Then don't."

"I need a drink." You heave a dramatic sigh as you slip off your barstool and slink through the crowd to find the bar.

The large ballroom is packed to the brim with people, most of them chatting with one another in small groups while a few others dance wherever they can find the space. It's strange that, despite the larger number of people in the room, you aren't feeling the least bit warm. In fact, it's kind of cold. Oh well. You'd rather feel the slight chill than want to burst out of your own skin from overheating, you think as you finally get to the bar.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asks.

You give him your order and sweep your eyes over the room one more time as you wait. Everyone is laughing and generally enjoying their time together. Had this been your work party you would be slinking around in the shadows, begging whatever god would listen that you wouldn't run into your ex.

The one who dumped you last year.

On Christmas.

And then hooked up with your step sister.

Also on Christmas.

"I'd hate to be whoever you're thinking about right now," a low masculine voice says just over your left shoulder.

You jump, slightly embarrassed to be caught. "Oh, uh, yeah..."

You trail off, not sure of what to say when you get a good look at him. He easily towers over you and seems to be as wide as two of you put together. His muscles are visible even through the exceptionally well tailored midnight blue suit he wears. Each one of his movements, despite being graceful, threatens the integrity of said suit. If he flexes even slightly you're sure it'll rip at the seams. His mask is the same color as his suit with silver filigree around the edges. It reminds you of a prettier Phantom of the Opera mask. Behind the mask his eyes are dark. Almost pitch black.

He tilts his head as he looks down at you. "I haven't seen you before."

You shove a thumb over your shoulder, pointing to where you left your friend. "G-Gianna, she- I'm her friend."

Leave it to you to become an absolute mess in front of the first handsome man you see.

"Friend or friend," he teases with a wolfish grin.

"Just friends. I'm not her type."

"But you're someone's type."

You scoff. "Not in about a year."

He hums thoughtfully. "A touchy subject, I see."

"I got dumped on Christmas."

You aren't sure exactly why you're spilling your guts to this guy. Maybe it's the masks. The anonymity of it all is probably giving you a sense of misplaced courage.

Your handsome stranger picks up your hand and runs his lips across your knuckles. "Then he's a fool. Someone as sweet as you should be cherished always."

Heat floods through your body and prickles at your skin. "I don't know about that."

"I do. What's your name? Or shall I just call you darling?"

You give him your name and he repeats it reverently. "Do I get your name?"

"Felix," he says as he bends down so his lips are next to your ear. "It's best to remember as you'll be screaming it later."

You laugh. "Sure, big guy."

The bartender hands you the drink you ordered and you cheers Felix on your way back to your table. You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk away.

Gianna looks panicked as you take your seat, her doe eyes large and afraid. "What took you so long? Did you talk to anyone?"

"Just-" you look back to the bar and find Felix in the same spot you left him. "-him."

All the color drains from her face. She gathers her purse and coat quickly, saying, "we're leaving. Now. Get your things."

She spares one more look at Felix who simply inclines his head before disappearing into the crowd. If it's at all possible, Gianna looks even more physically disturbed.

"Make sure to lock your door tonight. Don't let anyone in for any reason," she lectures while rushing you out of the building and down the street. "Do you understand?"

You struggle to keep up with her hurried steps. "I know I've made questionable choices in the past, but I don't tend to let strangers in my apartment."

Gianna looks at you, her face dead serious. "If anyone comes, scream. Scream as loud as you can."

Her warning echoes around in your head for the rest of the night as you get ready for bed. You aren't used to seeing Gianna afraid. Out of the two of you, she's the one with the unshakable courage. You're just... you. And that's always been fine. Usually. Mostly. It's just unsettling, is your point. It's unsettling that Gianna is scared.

Your doorbell rings suddenly, and you're about to answer it, your hand inches away from the bronze doorknob, when Gianna's words pass through your mind one more time.

Don't let anyone in.

So you don't.

Not even when the doorbell rings two more times.

Nope.

You ignore it three whole times... but the fourth time is what gets you. It's just that it's annoying, you reassure yourself. You'll tell whoever it is to go away and that'll be that.

"Felix?" You stare in bewilderment when you open the door. "How do you know where I live?"

He's even more handsome without the mask. His face is chiseled and angular like some sort of statue of a Greek god. The smile he gives you is positively radiant. Charming even. He holds up your coat.

"I texted Gianna when I saw you left your coat. She gave it to me."

"She did?"

Felix nods.

"Oh... well..." You open your front door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"I would love to." He steps over the threshold and looks around your tiny apartment. His eyes linger on the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room. "I see your breakup hasn't dampened your holiday spirit."

"Nope. Can't let the fucker ruin all of my Christmases."

"Eloquently put."

Heat pools in your cheeks, a sense of inferiority creeping in. "Do you want anything to drink? I've got tea, coffee, water..."

Felix shakes his head. "I'm alright, thank you."

"Look, I-"

Whatever you were about to say dies on your lips because Felix is suddenly there, mouth on yours. His lips are cold and demanding as he guides you through the kiss. He tastes sweet like candy.

"What were you about to say?" Felix grips your hips, pressing you closer to him. You feel his erection press into your stomach and all thoughts leave your mind, replaced with the aching need between your thighs.

The part of your brain that's still semi-operational tells you this is a bad idea, but the louder, hornier part quickly overrides it.

Felix is hot.

It's Christmas.

Why shouldn't you do this?

You tilt your head up, angling for another kiss. "Nothing. I wasn't going to say anything."

Felix smiles and you swear you see the flash of extra sharp canine teeth, but it must've just been a shadow. It's gone in the next second.

His mouth meets yours again, his tongue tracing across your lower lip. You moan into the kiss and feel your body melt completely against his. He lifts you easily, like you weigh nothing, never breaking the kiss. Reflexively, your legs wrap around his waist.

"Good girl," Felix praises you. "Which way to your bedroom."

You gesture wildly, hoping he'll get the idea. The only thing you can focus on is the feel of his hard cock pressed against your core. Even through the layers of clothes you can tell he's huge. You feel almost feverish with how badly you want him.

Felix, sensing your neediness, all but runs to your room. He places you on your bed and demands you turn on your stomach, his hands making quick work of your pajamas. He strips out of his own clothes and leaves them in a pile on the floor.

You arch your back and wiggle your ass, your hand falling between your legs to toy with your clit. Felix groans as he watches you play with yourself. He knew he chose well tonight, but he never imagined you'd be this willing. This pliant.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me, darling." Felix grips your hip with one hand and uses his other to teases your entrance, sliding the tip in and out of your slick hole.

You can't find words so you moan instead, pressing back against him so he'll go deeper inside you.

"Mmm," he moans. "Tell me what you want."

"I..." you struggle answer, desperation rushing through you at an alarming rate. "I want you..."

"Try again, darling. Tell me what you want."

"You... I want... you..."

Smack! Felix's hand lands on your ass, the sound loud in the small room.

"I said," he says as he lands another slap on your ass, "tell me what you want."

Each word is punctuated by another spank. He growls at how red your ass is, bending down to lick where little droplets of blood bubble up on your skin. His tongue trails further down and he circles your entrance, savoring this taste of your blood mixing with your juices. Felix can hear your holding in your sobs and it hardens his cock even further.

"Felix," you manage to say between breaths. "Please, fuck me, please!"

Felix hums, pleased with your begging. "That's what I thought. You want my cock inside you, darling? You want to bounce that pretty little ass on it while you come?"

You nod. "Yes! Please!"

"Take it," he tells you as he slips inside you.

You cry out at the sudden intrusion. He's far bigger than you assumed earlier, stretching you around him as he pounds into you mercilessly. It hurts in the best possible way.

"Oh, fuck!" You throw your head back and it lands against his shoulder. "Oh, Felix, oh my god!"

Felix growls in response, the sound reverberating through your whole body. His mouth falls to your neck and his teeth sink in the delicate skin as he pumps in and out of you. He drinks deeply, swallowing mouthful after mouthful while you moan and let him fuck you.

"Come for me, darling," he whispers in your ear when he feels your slick cunt pulse around him.

You feel lightheaded but you do as he says, moaning when you feel him finish inside you as well.

Felix sighs as he pulls out of you, licking his mouth clean of the last few drops of your blood. Your wound should heal in a few days and you'll be left with a pleasant fog of memories.

"Thank you," he tells you as he pulls his clothes back on. "You don't know how badly I needed that."

You hum something that sounds like an affirmative, nuzzling into your bedsheets. Tomorrow you'll be sore with no recollection of why.

But at least this Christmas was better than the last.

[freakymcnastys]

“possibly in michigan” a creepp book - headcannons

general headcannons:

slenderman is british.

despite what people might think the mansion is way bigger on the inside

it has its own theater, bar, hell even a convenience store, no one actually knows how the store gets stocked

ben is too scared to go down there bc of that

the slender brothers come over every thanksgiving and christmas but offender is limited to the living room and dining room…

sally FORCES jeff to dress up for tea parties

jeff cuts his own hair but is surprisingly good at it

thinking about how smile dog is basically jeffs therapy dog :(((

jack has def tried to eat jeffs kidneys but give up cuz jeff woke up 💔💔

toby is an AVID game theory/matpat stan like he loves watching everything matpat is in so when he announced his retirement….lets say it was ROUGH.

slender puts all of sally’s drawings on the fridge and when they isn’t enough room he would rather buy another fridge then get rid of them

masky is like the stressed out older sibling 🤷‍♀️

ben has drank paint.

has a snapchat gc where they send each other snaps

whenever slender and jeff (or anyone for that matter) talk/argue slender has to bend at a 90 degree angle 😭😭

devon’s headcannons:

definitely butt dials people and scares the shit outta them 💀

going along with that devon totally prank calls people with ben and is like “is ur refrigerator running” 😭

her and jack watch reality tv shows (love and hiphop, dr phil, kardashins, etc)

devon’s fav movie is donnie darko…😁

she always sends jack funny tiktoks while he sends her reels

her chainsaws name is jellybean !

sometimes when she goes out with the proxys she brings fake slender pages (saying stuff like “bitchless” and the entire bee movie script) and hangs them up (but slender always finds them and yells at her)

her fav slenderbrother is probably trenderman

PERSONALLY i think that like the demon and jack are two different ppl so like whenever ‘the beast’ gets out it’s not rlly jack? yk?

so one time ‘the beast’ was fed up with jack actually letting himself feel feelings for devon that he brought devon to the tree where she got hung, to kill her 😁 but dw he failed but jack felt bad after ☹️👎

has told hoodie to ‘turn that frown upside down’….

goes up to masky and gets up real close and whispers… “i know what you are..” and just walks away..

maxine’s headcannons:

isn't quite used to newer slang so she still talks how people in the 1920s did and nobody really understands her that well...

she hates her cellphone and WILL NOT use it unless it's direly needed.

she definitely has a record collection but it's all jazzy and "old-timey" music and she does not let anyone else near her records or her record player

she would teach ben how to ballroom dance and then force him to have dancing sessions with her because her favorite thing to do when she was human was to dance at parties

slenderman FOR SURE banned smoking in the house but maxine is allowed to break that rule so she waltzes around the house with her huge cigarette holder bullying jeff cause he definitely wants to smoke.

she generally dislikes getting help with wounds and stuff because of all the malpractice that was preformed on her when she was human

the phantom of the opera (1925) is her absolute favorite movie and one day slender comes back from the store with the 2004 version and she literally falls in love with him right at that moment

she's like your grandma that 1. doesn't know how to work her phone (or tv or anything) and 2. says things that she thinks mean one thing and they actually don't... like for example....maxine: im sending lols jack: maxine someone died...why are you laughing out loud... maxine: oh i thought that meant lots of love :( jack: oh my fucking god bro

the effects of her lobotomy pop up from time to time when she's doing stuff so sometimes she loses the ability to focus and kind of "dumbs down" because people who are lobotomized often lose their higher levels of intellectuals and then she loses the ability to emotionally respond so slender has to help her out and keep an eye on her cause she might do something dumb. :(( then once she comes back she feels so bad that slender had to basically babysit her and he feels worse cause how could anyone do his love like that

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT- maxine and slenderman compliment eachother so well. he's a gentleman and she's a ladylike woman and they just...fit perfectly together

her favorite modern (ish) movie is the shining cause it reminds her of the good old days and she would be like "ah yes i remember when people would kill at parties" and everyone else is like "what"

her 1920s brain loves coloring books cause she's probably never been stimulated via colors so she has a bunch of coloring books and people come over and are like "slender i didn't know you found a child" and he's all like "oh no that's just maxine"

i think sometimes she forgets she doesn't live alone and she will walk out of her room in her underwear and is like "oh great heavens my bad gs"

© love always, kat + devina <3

[the-boney-rolls]

The Great Covid Beatles Binge, Day 2: Give My Regards to Broad Street

Hoo boy, here we go!

OK so we open with a stern/bored looking Paul stuck in traffic in the rain and it looks like he's spacing out... hey, Paul, are you starting to daydream? Paul? Is this whole movie about to be a dream, Paul? Oh god

This silly little car! The computer, the carpet, the pool ball gear shift. It's giving the 80's car version of the Beatles house in Help! It's also giving hyper-masculine in a way that is, I'm sorry, not convincing.

This plot is already deeply inscrutable. Something about some missing tapes, a reformed criminal that Paul knows somehow and trusts for some reason, and some ominous business men. Something bad will happen at midnight if the tapes aren't found. OK!

Ringo looks so cool and hot! That vest over that sick as hell dragon shirt. Yes. This scene is genuinely funny, too -- Ringo spends the entirety of "Here, There and Everywhere" and "Yesterday" searching through his mountains of drum equipment looking for brushes, only to find them too late. Apparently, the reason for this scene is that Ringo just didn't want to re-record old Beatles songs!

And now we have Paul, Ringo, George Martin and Geoff Emerick all together in a scene! Makes me think about how George Harrison apparently was a little miffed Paul didn't just call him to ask for filmmaking advice since it was something he had experience with. What could have been!

“Wanderlust” is such a great song, actually, damn.

“I’m not a bad boy, really. I’m just — er, manipulated” John??

Now this is more like it! Surprise Linda in drag, hell yes!

I don't know why this scene is happening? It's a rehearsal for... something? But I'll take it. I love "Ballroom Dancing" and I love vaudeville Paul.

I'm starting to feel like Paul's grandpa in AHDN, "so far, I've been in a train and a room, and a car and a room, and a room and a room." Did Paul's experience on that set define what a movie is to him? "Ah yes, a movie must include lots of transportation from one location to another and then some musical scenes." But dear, it worked because there were jokes! And all four of you to play off each other.

I.......... what

This is Silly Love Songs, of all things!

Again, I don't know why this scene is happening in the context of the movie. Is it another rehearsal for something? A music video? Television special? Who knows, Yoko! But OK here we go, I sure am having fun! Linda is extremely into it. That slap bass kills. There's a Michael Jackson impersonator for some reason? Sure! It makes no sense but I love this man and his bizarre beautiful mind.

So now we're doing band rehearsal in some kind of barn? Or abandoned warehouse? Or something? All of the plot of this movie seems to happen in dialog in cars en route to some ambiguous musical engagement.

“Do you think we can get some heat in here or are we practicing to be Canadians?” God bless you, Ringo.

“Should we try Not Such a Bad Boy” “Do we have to?” “Yeah” Bossy Paul bosses around a Beatle, we love to see it.

Is this song about him or John? 

The French horn player coming in late to record "For No One," inexplicably in a bright red motorcycle helmet, so late that he’s preparing up until right before the solo starts. Reminds me of that story of Ringo recording Hey Jude. But it also feels very symbolic of something. There are so many odd inscrutable details in this movie, it could almost be Lynchian in someone else's hands.

“We’re running, and running out of time too” It feels meaningful but I don't know how.

Hello Mr. Darcy! Wow, can I have an entire movie that’s just this Victorian dream sequence? Can we go back in time and do a Beatles movie period piece, please??

The strings in this which are inspired by but are not quite "Eleanor Rigby" are lovely. Apparently this whole sequence is called "Eleanor's Dream," which implies that Paul is Eleanor. Make of that what you will, I suppose.

I like that Linda is a pants-wearing photographer in this period scene. Linda's gotta Linda.

This strikes me as very Evil Beatles. Again, make of that what you will.

Barbara and Linda are acting the HELL out of this going over the waterfall scene damn.

I don't know, I could screen grab this entire segment, it's amazing, it's insane.

But I can't gloss over Paul being horny for Ghost Horse Girl Linda. Incredible.

"That’s it you’re finished. What are you gonna do now?" Well ok at least this one is pretty obviously a reference to the critical reception of his career after the Beatles and again after John.

"Uncle Jim" Ok so I guess this is supposed to be his dad, but what is the point of this scene? And why the monkey? The further I get into this film the more I feel like I am looking deep into this man's psyche but through the murkiest of windows. I'm here for the weird dream symbolism, Paul, but if you're gonna go that route, again go full Lynch and get even weirder.

Just the straight up original recording of "Band on the Run" feels out of place with all these re-records. I wonder why that choice.

His car license plate is "PM 1" That's right, baby, you're number 1.

Another little cute but inconsequential day dream (presumably within the dream that is this entire movie). He looks like Roy Orbison here.

Oh ok Harry was just locked in a cupboard this whole time. So the whole "plot" was pointless. Cool cool cool.

Paul and Harry being giddy and laughing together is cute though, and it makes me wish that that relationship was fleshed out more. Who are they to each other, exactly??

Yup it was all a dream. Love it, love that for us. Thanks, Paul.

OK so this was definitely barely a movie. There could have been something here, but I'll go back to what I said above -- I wish he'd gone weirder with the whole thing! And I wish Paul himself had been weirder. The character Paul is kind of a dud, just plodding along from place to place and only coming alive when he performs. It's like that Hawaiian shirt is supposed to be a stand in for characterization. But worth it for the music video scenes and for getting a tiny glimpse into Paul's psyche.

[nobodybutapathetic]

Let’s Make Out Memories

pairing: Tom and Y/N

Warning: May include spice, making out and words that’ll make you blush (not THOSE words)

summary: Tom and Y/N filming the Yule ball scene in the Harry Potter 4th movie but then something spicy happens…

a/n: I’m truly sorry for being not active anymore. I just started taking breaks for the past few weeks and now, I feel motivated here on tumblr again. Anyways, I thank you @qrvmlfoy for choosing this since I convinced you to choose a oneshot for me to write. And for @slytherinqueenrose, I’m gonna write the rest of the other oneshot you requested, k? Love you all!

“Draco won’t be having much screen time tho” Tom said to one of the directors.

“Yeah but he’d be seen in the background. Y/N can start practicing the dance with you now.” The director patted Tom’s shoulders as Tom just chuckles.

“Yeah okay. Y/N, mind if we take a quick practice? I mean, I already got my feet ready that it’s excited to burst out of these polished shoes.” Tom smiled which caused me to laugh awkwardly.

“Yeah totally. Okay, let’s go to the ballroom.” I chuckled which made him smirk and grab my hand.

He lead me to the big, mesmerizing ballroom which made me distracted a lot. Well, of course, no one knows when I’d step on his foot every time.

We started taking it slow, slow dancing. Which made the feeling so joyful. I haven’t felt this joy for a while since I’ve been busy filming with Tom.

Later then, he started twirling me around as if I was a princess and a ballerina at the same time.

“Tom, you’re gonna make me dizzy.” I whispered which made him laugh.

“You’re too irresistible, do you know that?” He whispered back, grabbing my waist with his right hand and his left hand grabbing my chin.

“Tom..” I mumbled but he just forms a grin.

“There’s loads of people here so.. Do you mind?” He signaled me to go to the toilet in the corner of the ball.

“Tom, we still have to film. Maybe later?” I tried to convince but he just pouts.

“You’re no fun” He whispered which I rolled my eyes at.

“Yeah whatever.” I went to Emma and Daniel who was busy practicing their lines.

*A FEW HOURS LATER*

“Gosh! Did you really have to pick me up and spin me?” I whispered-yelled to Tom.

“Well, don’t blame me. The director told.” He grabs a chocolate and munches it while fixing his bow tie.

“Typical Tom.” I rolled my eyes.

“Okay okay break time over! Back to dancing!” The director said.

Me and Tom came in position, hand in hand and my head on his shoulder.

The dance was again slow but then we started going in circles, him twirling me around and do some salsa.

To be honest, I loved this day. The way Tom would dance with me is enough to fill my heart with joy. This is what I always wanted. Happiness.

“Do you still wanna dance or?.. Go to the toilet?” He asked, smirking while whispering it to my ear.

“You know what? I feel bad for you so, I’m going to the toilet you’ve been begging to go.” I grabbed his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

His smirk grew wider before locking the bathroom door.

“Don’t go too far tho.” I placed my arms around his neck as he lowly laughs.

“I can’t promise or swear that.” He pulled me into a kiss which, I gladly did as well.

We both loved each other. Ever since the beginning and ever since we met. We knew we were a match.

He then started playing my mouth with his tongue. I was surprised on how he managed to fight the dominance between us but I didn’t mind.

He started pinning me against the wall, removing his white suit in a rush.

“Tom.. I told you not to take it too far..” I whispered, in between kisses.

“Darling. I just can’t resist you. I told you, you’re irresistible. You’re so goddamn perfect, Y/N. I love you a lot. And if you love me back, I love you even more.” He said before pulling out from the kiss and then started kissing my neck.

Before I could even moan out, someone came inside the bathroom.

“OH MY GOD- I AM SO SORRY.” Emma said before she immediately left.

“That was-“ I got cut off by Tom.

“-Awkward.”

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

hi! i know valentine's day has already passed, but do you have valentine's day headcanons for leon and luis?

Hello!!!! OOOOOOOOH BOY do I ever!!!!! I don’t think I even need the excuse of Valentines to share these!!!!

• IF he were given full control of the reigns, you just K N O W Luis would go FULL SEND for Valentines. The absolute WORKS. Fancy dinner date, slow dancing at a local ballroom, expensive wine payed for, lakeside walks- you name it. But let’s not kid ourselves that’s PROBABLY not happening. At least not EVERY Valentines.

• Meanwhile Leon is the total opposite- all he wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep the day away. If that’s even possible with his job. Breakfast at 12:30 and bed at 9:00 on the dot. But that doesn’t mean he won’t entertain Luis

• Ballroom dancing lessons. Ballroom dancing lessons ok you know I’m right don’t argue with me. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the lounge room or if it’s at a club or in the middle of the road in the pouring rain Luis is offering his hand and pulling Leon into a spin at ANY chance he’ll get

• ALSO. SINGING. He does not CARE if it’s cringe Luis will wait for the PERFECT moment to bust out a guitar and sing Leon a lil tune- we all K N O W that man has a VOICE after all. And Leon is just. S O O O O enamoured with it. Nobodies ever done something so elaborate for him ever so he’s absolutely head over heels

• Just. In general. Leon is taken aback by how much Luis does for him- be it breakfast in bed, elaborate gifts etc etc etc. And while Luis never expects anything back, Leon can’t help but feel a lil bad when he realises he’s had nothing big planned (wow he just like me fr,,,,,,,,) so he makes up for it by getting Luis something really small but really sentimental. Maybe a packet of his Grandfathers old favourite cigarettes or a nice new jacket that reminded him of Luis.

• And if Leon gets taken aback easily by gestures of affection, Luis gets FLOORED. HE IS SOBBING HIS EYES OUT AT THE TINIEST THINGS. I just KNOW for a FACT this man is a crybaby and his standards and expectations are on the GROUND after everything he’s been though so he’s HONOURED that Leon even REMEMBERED it was Valentines that day- let ALONE that he got him something as special as that!!!!!!!!!

• It’s not necessarily that Luis feels like he HAS to go all-out for Leon. He just genuinely enjoys it :)

• FAMILY DATE TRIPS W ASHLEY OH MY GOD. Doesn’t have a Valentine???? Boyfriend broke up with her??????? Screw it they’re taking her on a date now!!!!! They’re taking her out to get ice cream and to look at the ducks on the lake!!!!!!!!!!

• This one’s EXTREMELY random but stick with me here ok. Apparently during the war in Afghanistan (fuck the US 💞) kids would send soldiers Valentine’s Day cards in case they never got one, and I have this VIVID memory of just SOBBING my eyes out laughing at a complicating of some of the cards posted on TikTok ages ago, but anyways what I’m tryna get at here is I can imagine that Leon MAYBE would’ve gotten those same cards and kept them. And Luis teases him about them. Every. Single. Time.

Anyways uhhhhhhh this is all I could think of!!!!!! Happy late valentines and thank you S O SOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH for sending in an ask!!!!! :DD

[alittlefanatic]

hi!! can you write a wally x reader one shot where the reader joins this foxtrot ballroom dance competition with wally (they join as friends, i think you can see where im going w this) and through those days of practice, both the reader and wally get flustered by eachother (hidden mutual crushing !!) omgg then the reader asks poppy for advice bc shes kimd of like the mother figure of the neighbourhood .. then the day of the competition arrives, wally is a little anxious about it like what if they fall on the floor?? he only learned how to ballroom dance bc he wanted to partner up with the reader but the reader reassures that hes going to do great and glamourous!! they perform and omgg the eye contact, how secured both of their grasp is on one another, the reader's whispers of reassurance to wally while they danced to can't take my eyes off you?? omgggg, both of them confess during when they were awarded for 2nd place !!

oh and ofc, always make sure to take breaks n drink water!! :D

STORY BELOW!

Oh, this made my heart absolutely MELT!

I don't know much about dance competitions but do not worry I will indeed try my best neighbor!!

I think I'm going to make this story have multiple parts, so I apologize if this is too long! I already have chapter Ideas if this tells you anything LMAO But I have so many ideas for this story in particular that I want to put my all into it! Until the other parts come out though, enjoy this first chapter! And if you would like, I can tag you in the updates

____________

🍎Shall We Dance? - Day 1🍎

Wally Darling x Reader Story

Tags: Fluff, Romantic, Established Crush, and Friendship!

Summary: Sally recently announced a Dance competition in the neighborhood! Granted, you have no idea how to even Foxtrot, but it couldn't be so bad right? Besides! You have your best friend Wally there as your Dance Partner! Nothing could go wrong...well, that is, until some feelings come to the surface...

(Lovely art by TTobeeb on Twitter)

It was a beautiful Sunny day in the neighborhood! It was peaceful, quiet, relaxed...well, you would say that if it wasn't for Sally Starlet running around happily in the neighborhood, posters in hand as she plastered them onto doors and trees and fences all along the neighborhood.

You and Wally were sitting in the grass simply chatting in the warm sun, spring was coming to a close and summer was beginning to arrive, when you noticed the happily frantic star gushing and dancing about. You couldn't help but glance toward Wally, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you have any Idea what she's up to?"

"No clue neighbor. It could be that she's trying to set up another play?"

"Maybe? God, I don't know if I could star in another one. I completely messed up my lines halfway through and I just wanted to lie down and perish."

Wally couldn't help but laugh, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. Wally was your best friend, you have pretty much been through it all! Julie would tease the two of you relentlessly, saying that we'd be the 'picture perfect couple' but we always joked about it and cast it aside. We were just good friends, and I was happy to say that I knew him!

"Oh come on neighbor, you weren't that bad."

"Wally, how does a person mess up Romeo and Juliet?"

Wally was about to answer before the bright and energetic came running up to the two of us.

"NEIGHBOR! WALLY! You're going to join my competition right?" She spoke excitedly, doing a twirl as she held her fliers close, before handing one to each of you. You cocked your head, confused.

"Competition? What happened to plays?" You spoke, reading over the flier. It was very colorful and bright, with red glitter over the title 'Foxtrot Dance Competition.' This was dancing, was it not?

"Yes, this is a form of...ballroom dance? Have you been hanging out with Julie again? I know how much of a romantic she is." Wally spoke, obviously teasing but Sally was oblivious, nodding her head.

"Yes! Julie would talk about how ball dances worked and thought we should incorporate them into our plays sometime. But that would mean we would need some great dancers as the leads in order to sell the play more! So! With that in mind, we came up with the idea of creating this competition, not only to see others' dance skills, but to think about leading roles for the future~"

Sally rambled on and on excitedly as I couldn't help but continue to stare at the flier, reading it. 'Foxtrot Dance Competition! Partner Required! Come test out your dancing skills! Winners get to be the star in the upcoming play!' The thought wasn't too bad! You didn't know how to dance much, you had some skill, but hey, the worst that could happen was that you would place last right? Deep in thought, Wally's voice broke you out of your thoughts.

"Thank you for the offer Sally, but I think both neighbor and I will have to de-"

"I'll do it!" You spoke with newfound excitement. It would give you something to do on these hot summer days and learn a new skill, there are no downsides!

Wally looked over at you, eyes widening. He looked at you with dilated pupils, but you couldn't help but smile excitedly. Sally couldn't either, she was beginning to shine even more than she already was! Grabbing both of my hands and pulling me up to jump up and down.

"Oh my goodness that's so exciting! Thank you neighbor I absolutely know you're going to do great and you are going to dance wonderfully and-" Sally kept on and on, jumping you in circles to the point you were almost dizzy.

Wally looked down at the flier again, contemplating before letting out a quiet sigh. What was he getting himself into? The sight of you with your wide smile though, was all that he could ask for. He loved seeing his friend smile.

"I'll join in too. You need a partner for these kinds of things, right? Neighbor, I'd like to enter with you as my partner if you don't mind~" He spoke, looking towards you with his signature smile. Your excitement only continued to grow as you grabbed Wally's hand.

"I'd absolutely love to! We are an unstoppable pair! This is going to be a breeze!"

"Well, you two better get to practicing then! The competition is the next Saturday, not this upcoming one!" Sally interrupted, tapping the flier to show the date.

"That's only...10 days away! Is that even enough time?" Wally asked, there was a hint of worry in his voice. "I don't know how to dance very well, in fact, I'm poor at it."

You never actually heard Wally admit he wasn't very good at something before, so that was a first. He was usually a confident guy, it may seem as if he was full of himself sometimes sure, but he always meant well. You couldn't help but smile.

"Well, what's the worst that'll happen Mr. Darling?"

He pondered that for a moment, shaking his head as he gave a lighthearted laugh. "Ha ha ha. Nothing too bad I guess now that I think about it! You're right neighbor. You always know how to view things positively. That's what makes you the most!"

You couldn't help but smile, as Sally looked between the two of you, a small smirk set across her face.

"Well, get to dancing you two! I want to see passion and sparks! Make my heart SOAR with your dancing! I have to tell others about this-"

"Haven't you already put fliers over the whole neighborhood?" You raised an eyebrow.

"That's barely enough! I have to get going!" Sally laughed and waved, grabbing her fliers when she spotted her next targets. With a cheerful smile, she ran towards Eddie and Frank. You could faintly hear in the distance her rambling on about the competition.

"God, does that girl ever know how to slow down?"

"Sometimes I wonder if she knows the meaning of slow."

You and Wally both looked at each other and laughed, holding the flier in your hand as you extended your other to Wally.

"Well 'Partner,' looks like you're stuck with me for the next 10 days! You ready to get your dancing shoes on?"

"You make it sound like being stuck with you is a bad thing! I'm delighted neighbor." He spoke, grabbing your hand as you lifted him off the ground and onto his feet. You couldn't help but smile at him, as you looked down at the flier once more, putting your hand to your chin as you began to pace back and forth.

"I need to make sure I have the appropriate attire, dance shoes for certain, we need to have lots of water, especially during this heatwave. Hmm...do you have a music disc? Or at least a slow-paced song?" You thought allowed, looking towards Wally who was thinking alongside you.

"I know I have one somewhere at Home, I might just have to go and dig for it is all! Other than that, I think we are as prepared as we could be. If we need to, we could always go to Howdy's Bugdega and ask for some supplies?"

"I might have to...I don't recall having any dancewear...I do know we need to start immediately! Tomorrow! After we get our supplies, let's get straight to dancing and see what we need to work on!!" You spoke enthusiastically, your hands on your hips as you had this smirk about you.

Wally couldn't help but roll his eyes and sigh a little at your disposition. It was too late to back out now, and he certainly wasn't going to. He couldn't help but remain cheery though.

"Well then neighbor, I do have a couple of things I need to do before then, like clean Home and find some records. So I will probably head back, as it is starting to become late anyways." Wally looked over to the sky, it was getting a bit late! Time always seemed to fly by when you were with each other.

You nodded and smiled, giving a little salute. "Well then Mr. Darling! I'll be at Home at nine am sharp! You better be prepared!" You half-joked, as you turned around, giving him a little wave as you began to walk back to your house.

"Be safe neighbor! I'll see you at nine am!" Wally smiled, waving goodbye as they headed back towards home.

As you began to walk home though, a pit of nervousness began to grow in your stomach. Dancing? You had no idea what you were doing! You've never slow-danced before, nonetheless been to a dance, unless you count dancing in your bedroom with the music turned up.

You sighed, making it to your home, opening the door, and heading inside, putting the flier on the kitchen counter, as you stared at it.

What did you get yourself into?

AUTHORS NOTE:

THIS IDEA MAKES ME SO SOFT!! I genuinely have about 10 chapters in mind, one for each day...so I hope you enjoy this neighbor!

Gentle Reminder I am a student and I am writing these when I can, finals are ROUGH!

You can also find this story on my wattpad!

[ridikkulusemily]

5 times Sirius was there for Regulus and 1 time he wasn't

1

Sirius was 8. Regulus was 6. They were kids. They were the best of friends. They danced the night away together. They were giggling at their parents’ faces, who were scowling at them. What for, no one knew. Their bedtime rolled around and they dutifully walked out of the stuffy, old ballroom. Once they were clear of the door, they took off running up the rickety staircase, into Sirius’s room, where they would sit and Sirius would read his baby brother a book, until he drifted off to sleep. He’d always carry the younger boy down the hall into his own room because he knew their parents didn’t like them sharing the bed.

“What book do you want me to read tonight?” Sirius asked his baby brother. 

Regulus ran to the bookshelf and grabbed his favourite story, Babbity Rabbity. Sirius chuckled, as the boy ran back and jumped into the bed beside his older brother. 

Sirius read until he heard soft snores coming from the younger boy beside him. Then he slid out of the bed, lifted the sleeping child, every time thanking the gods above that Reg was such a heavy sleeper. He walked down the hall, being careful to avoid the floorboards that he knew would creak, to the bedroom that belonged to his brother. 

He lowered Regulus into his bed and tucked him in. Giving his brother a final kiss on the forehead, he whispered, “I love you,” and turned to leave, not hearing the quiet ‘I love you too’ coming from his brother. 

2

Walburga walked into the kitchen to find Regulus bandaging up Kreacher’s hands from where the house-elf had ironed his hands as punishment. Regulus didn’t realise what was so bad about what he was doing. 

“Regulus Arcturus Black! What do you think you are doing, child?”. Walburga screamed, scaring the young boy, and dragging him into the family room by the arm. 

Sirius heard his mother screaming at his younger brother, and ran to the family room, knowing exactly what he’d hear next if he didn’t. 

“Mother,” Sirius called, “Please don’t punish him, he didn’t know! I should have told him not to!”

Walburga didn’t listen. She pointed her wand towards the younger of the two boys. The older boy ran in front of his younger brother and pushed him away, all before she could finish the incantation. 

“CRUCIO!” she screamed. 

Sirius screamed in pain, “Reg, go!”

Regulus ran out of the room and up the stairs to hide under his bed, trying to block out the screams coming from the family room. It took what seemed like an hour for the screams to stop, and Sirius was dragged up the stairs and thrown into his bedroom. Once Regulus heard his mother disappear back downstairs, he left the safety of his bedroom and ran to Sirius’s room and into his arms. 

“Hey, Reg, I’m fine. I promise,” Sirius soothed the crying boy in his arms. 

Sirius sat there, shaking slightly from the prolonged use of the cruciatus curse, stroking the younger boy’s hair while he cried into Sirius’s chest. Regulus eventually stopped crying, whispering a small “thank you”

“Anytime Reggie, I love you.”

3

“Reg, you’ll get in trouble,” Sirius whispered. 

“I don’t care, Siri,” 

“Reg…”

Regulus left the food he’d gotten from Kreacher in Sirius’s room. He closed the door behind him and walked back to his bedroom. He didn’t know that his mother could see him from down the stairs. 

“Regulus!” Walburga called in the sweetest voice she could muster, “Could you come downstairs please?” 

Sirius cringed at the sound of her voice, knowing Regulus had been seen. He left his own room slightly after he heard the click of Regulus’s opened door, knowing he’d get in trouble. Not that he cared. He’d do anything for his baby brother. 

4

Regulus and Sirius were huddled together in Regulus’s bed after they both had a nightmare. 

“Reggie?” 

“Yeah?”

“Promise me that when you’re old enough, you won’t join them?”

“I promise,” 

Sirius smiles, “I’ll always be here for you, you know that? I know they’ll try to pressure us both into joining for the good of the family, but we don’t have to, I will make sure of that,”

5

Sirius was strolling through the corridors when he heard it. The sounds of his brother being hurt. He walked towards the sounds and saw Regulus surrounded by a bunch of older Slytherins in a hidden alcove.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing? Leave him alone!” Sirius shouted at the students, who turned to him. 

They laughed. 

“What? You think you can stop us? You’re a second year, for one and you’re a blood traitor, hanging around with Potter and that half-blood,” the leader sneered at Sirius. 

They were all very obviously older and stronger than Sirius, so he knew he wouldn’t be able to take them in a physical fight, but that was his baby brother that they were picking on. He had to do something.

“Flipendo,” Sirius muttered, aiming right in the middle of the group and knocking them away from Regulus. He ran toward his younger brother and stood right in front of him, wand raised. 

“This is a warning. If anyone tries to hurt my brother again, I will do much worse, okay?” Sirius shouts, helping Regulus up and taking him back to his common room. 

+1

The summer after his fifth year, Sirius escaped to the Potters’, leaving Regulus behind in that unforgiving house. Regulus tried his hardest to behave and be seen as the perfect child, however he was unsuccessful. 

Now that Sirius was gone, Regulus was kept under strict supervision and anything that could be seen to besmirch the Black name was grounds for punishment. 

Regulus now writhed in pain on the living room floor, under his mother’s cruciatus, sobbing for his brother, who had promised to always be there for him.