#literally she was dancing with one of her female dancers and I wanted to take a video but I was in a trance

[vangoghsflowerchild]

My favorite photos I took of Dua this weekend.

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[chlmtsdoll]

I’VE ALWAYS DREAMED OF…

౨ৎ Pairing: Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan x female reader, Art Donaldson x reader, Art x Tashi

౨ৎ Summary: after being dismissed from your ballet academy and your dreams of being a dancer come crashing down, you decide to take on a new accomplishment — becoming a tennis protege to Tashi and Art.

౨ৎ Word count: 2.4k

౨ৎ Warnings: no use of y/n, inexperienced!reader, age gap (reader in early 20’s) dilf/milf age Art & Tashi, talk of oral (F reviving), fingering, size kink ? corruption (ish), mention of masterbation, brief mention of ED, pinning Art, needy reader, I have literally 0 knowledge of sports//tennis so if everything is inaccurate I’m sorry. I’m simply just a romantic smut addict who loves these characters 🤍

౨ৎ part two | three | four

You wouldn’t have wished that full body shock sensation of that day on your worst enemy. Never in a million years would you think all that discipline, bloody feet and overextension on your body to the point of black outs and collapse would have lead to that moment — the day you got dismissed from your ballet academy.

It had been your dream since a little girl to form a stable career as a traveling ballerina. To dance on European stages and tour around different countries doing what you loved. What set your heart on fire. But when you started to grow out of your bodies potential form, now in your early twenties, the instructors had to make the final decision to cut you from your class. You could no longer dance.

No one told you that after you turned around seventeen you’d no longer be the ‘correct’ body shape to be a ballerina. Not any doctors, not your parents — it was all fine up until your twenty first birthday. But even after you got the news that you were entering a red zone, you starved, and you looked into surgeons that would make you look like the ideal ballerina, but nothing was up to the terms of the academies you had qualified for.

The depression of your once life long dream had taken a complete toll over you for a year until you had to pick yourself up again.

Somewhere at least

You tried out other hobbies that took just your hands, baking, sewing, painting. But none of it made your soul feel like it had a real purpose. You needed to compete — you needed to move, your feet needed to glide quickly but delicately all at once. You needed that power and center of stage. You wanted all eyes on you while you made your body flex with determination and a fire light in your eyes.

And that’s when you started searching for tennis coaches.

You figured with your years worth of forming around good discipline and structure in ballet, tennis was a close second to the kind of agility you needed as an athlete of some sort, you knew you were no pro. Nor maybe ever going to be. But you had to do this, it was now tennis or nothing — and you were too young and too ambitious to give up just yet.

So you found them. Her first. Tashi Donaldson.

You knew of her, being in this Industry especially with being around so many wealthier kinds of sports enthusiasts, her name was gonna come around sometimes — and her husband of course plenty, Art Donaldson.

With some friends of friends, and many emails and more emails you were able to officially meet them after a couple days of searching and applying for tennis coaching nonstop. And when that day finally came, If it weren’t for their outshining talent at what they do for the tennis world, you would of figured they were models or at least assumed they should be.

They were both beautiful in an otherworldly sense — jaws that to you could cut like knives and bodies of literal gods.

You were shorter, and more petite as most ballerinas were, so when Tashi towered over you your first meet, all the confidence and sophistication you had previously practiced for this exact moment before hand, dissolved almost immediately — you were so intimidated by the powerful essence that poured off of her, the way her short waves flowed when she turned and her shirt dresses were left unbuttoned at just the perfect degree. Not too much on display, but just the right amount of cleavage and skin showing to leave her inferior curious for more, yearning for that bit of softness to Tashi that was merely her skin.

Speaking of softness, Art on the other hand had total power to his presence, with his name in grand letters everywhere. A full Olympic gold medalist tennis superstar. You’d think it all would go to his head, but that day you first shook hands with the mesmerizing man, you felt only warmth as he took your delicate into his bigger yet soft hands. You were left to find nothing but gentle kindness behind his eyes — you even noticed a bit of brown in his perfect blue irises.

And from that moment you had already known you’d become completely and utterly obsessed with him.

Yet that was six months ago now. Quickly you moved from your once apartment in New York City that you referred to as your ‘struggling ballerina habitat’ to the Donaldson estate — it was best you’d be as hands on with your tennis as possible, according to Tashi. But nothing could of prepared you for as hands on as it would get.

It had been two weeks into your training that the couple had come to you with a proposal. Art and Tashi would make a deal, that you’d be their play thing. But mainly for Art. His wife stated it would help up his game if he had something young, girlish and sweet to distract him in the meanwhile when he got too caught up in 40 loves, and wanting to do justice to Tashi’s failed tennis career. Sometimes it got all too much, and by that, most of the time. He needed you.

And how did you need him.

Within the first month you and Art had gotten feverishly close. With all the admiring you did of him and how he came to have the sports world in the palm of his hand, his rise to fame and all the while having a wife and daughter. Your smiles and soft blushes when he caressed your cheek — how you poked fun at him for not understanding your pop culture references or slang. It all gave him a nolstagia for his youth that made his heart pump a little faster and his racket hit a little harder on the court.

He was so so beyond sweet with you, helping you with your back hands, his fingers drifting your frame from behind as he positioned your body to his liking, and his grins when your mini tennis skirts (that Tashi ordered you to wear) would rise against his clothed thigh to only reveal the bit of lace panties you had on underneath.

With all the overwhelming feelings you didn’t deny the pleasure of touching yourself at night to the thought of his short strawberry blonde waves between your fingers as his lips made out with your pussy for hours. His tongue making you let out unimaginable noises to then kiss the taste of yourself off his lips.

So you couldn’t have been more down when Tashi made you sign for your little agreement.

You didn’t care if you were nothing but a fuck to get Art’s name permanently on the forums of different Tennis courts across the country. You’d do anything for just a glimpse of him. It was all you had really. Anything for Tashi to say you did well.

Anything for them.

It all had been in return of a place for you to stay as well. With your background coming from being a young ballerina from a big city — you hardly got paid anything manageable in the slightest. So it was nothing for Tashi and Art to shower you in their riches — the best maids, cooks, dietary plans, luxury hotels with new designer sports attire waiting for your arrival on top of your own beautifully decorated room in their home and a promised bright career ahead of you.

You’d just never bother to complain for also getting to receive the kind of affection and intimacy from the two who just needed a little bit of something. You, to make them feel alive again.

Now, you were settled into your silk pajama set that was personally picked out for you by Tashi, in a dusty pink rose color — the color she kept her nails because she mentioned it drove Art crazy. Giggles and soft laughter could be heard from the grand living room as you sat across from Art before bed. Watching his grin behind folded knuckles to his face, you bit your lip softly. “I haven’t been able to do it again since.”

“You can. And you will, you just need a little motivation.” you tittered softly with a smile. Taking in the sight of the man sitting so close yet too far from you.

You two had been watching highlights of some of Arts best matches from over the years.

You loved this. Sitting and listening to him talk about his career for however long he wanted, asking questions about how it felt to be so good at a craft — it made him feel assured telling you, teaching you. His confidence raised by the easy flow of conversation you had to offer. Because that’s what you were for, keeping him in that space of authority to at least something in his life and an escape from the tough business world that had broken down a man like him too many times before. So if you were keeping him up, Tashi was keeping you in.

Motivation

You could practically hear Art murmur the word to himself in his head and he looked at you with a sly grin on his face to which you only blushed and inched closer to his presence just a few pillows away from you.

“Yeah ? You gonna serve just like I showed you on the court tomorrow, ballerina ?”

Your lips immediately perked into a silly wide smile and you giggled like a school girl at the former accusation that was now Arts little nickname for you. Your chin resting in the crease of your elbow shyly as you nodded.

“It’ll be perfect. I promise.”

Art leaned in to leave a soft and delicately placed kiss to your neck. You shivered at the sweet somberness between the two of you, eyes almost fluttering closed as time stopped for a moment — but it was all cut short when Tashi came in from tucking Lily to bed. A demeanor on her face and body language like something had been not so lovely with her at that moment.

In her pajama slip, she had grabbed the remote from the table in front of the two of you and turned the tv off.

“Say goodnight.” She spoke with a soft assertiveness and Art had stood, he left a quick kiss to your cheek that didn’t leave you satisfied but wanting to whine his name to stay. Just for a little longer. But instead you let out a quite “night” as he made his way to Tashi.

Their lips pressed in a deep and slower smooch, you watched as some saliva collected in your mouth and you swallowed almost a little too loudly.

The way Art had softened into her made your stomach churn with want. Tashi had a gentle hand to his cheek as he pecked her one last time before disappearing through the hallway and you stood as well. Tashi’s eyes were locked on yours, and something gave you the notion that you weren’t allowed to leave just yet.

It had gone quite for a second as she focused on you, and you wanted to start picking your nails right there.

“I don’t like to end the night unsure, so do you want to tell me why you were slacking off on the court today ?”

Her words were crisp and landed on you like a paper cut you hadn’t seen coming. Your throat already tightening. You knew the chances of this night ending with her giving you that same kind of kiss she gave Art, was now looking too slim. And you feared for everything.

“I-I just haven’t been feeling too good on my feet lately,” your words already weakening under the woman’s gaze. “I’ve been trying to keep my lounges quick, steady, but the arch is hard to get rid of after-“

“Look. And listen to me.” Your eyes shot up from your feet as Tashi cut you and she began, “You’re not dancing in a recital and you’re not a fucking ballerina.”

She scorned you cold and straight forward. You immediately felt merely pushed back by force at her words.

“I don’t care if you’ll need to spend extra time with your physical therapist, I want you on your feet completely and ready to go tomorrow. This is tennis. That’s your life now, so start playing it because I don’t care for wasting my time, Understood ?”

Tashi knew how the ballerina facade went — the presenting as sweet, innocent, as fragile as a tea cup to the world, yet being built up to be an absolute machine. Being able to withstand even the harshest of hits to the ground or the lashing out of choreographers and instructors till gods end. It’s why she was never soft with you when it came to tennis, just like she wasn’t with Art.

You had nodded rather quickly and you were not going to let the readied tears resting on your ducts fall. You were gonna take the taunt like a big girl and get it together — because the truth is, you had been distracted during practice today.

But not by your poor aching feet, but by the way Art watched your perfectly toned legs as you leaped and glided across that court like some well, ballerina.

How when just the sight of your hair braided in two knots with ribbons on the end just became all too much for him to bare. He pulled you aside, the chill down your spine was maddening as he whispered in your ear the kinds of things you did to him. The way you made him feel. The things you made him want to do to with your little body.

His tender and wondrous fingers had ended up clean beneath your skirt without hesitation. Brushing against the lining of your panties and you were up against Gatorade bottles and protein mix before you could form a real thought. He leaned into you, standing tall there above you. Having to raise to the tips of your toes for him to tuck his fingers were you needed him most. You could see the rare excitement of dominance take over a darker tone in his eyes as his fingers sold into your sweet aching cunt, too tight for more than a finger.

The pulse of your heat and the beat of your heart racing at an embarrassing rate. His strawberry blonde locks brushed your desperate expression with eas that you’d fall apart in his arms at any moment knowing how fragile a young thing like you had been when it was just the two of you and your defenses were at their weakest. “Mmh, Art.” You breathed out in a whine, grabbing his muscular arm rather quickly as you nearly lost balance.

“Say it. Tell me you weren’t thinking about anything other than my hand up your skirt on that court.” He slowed into your ear and you whimpered softly as another finger, long and coated with your wetness entered you at once. “I see right through you. The thoughts that wind up in that innocent little head. So desperate. So willing to give up your cunt to me…. Or Tashi.”

Playing shy and dumb up front, though he had been right.

You would bend over and take the moment they said — You had to fight back strangled moans as you felt yourself being stretched by just his two fingers. It was known to both him and Tashi that you were untouched. With strict ballet schedules, school, and endless nights staying up till two am doing chassé after chassé till your toes were sore, you hardly ever had the time for pleasure. It had been anything if kept hidden and burried deep for a ballerina of your training to be caught up exploring her sexual desires — so as of current Art still hadn’t taken you there fully. But warming you up easily with his glorious mouth and apposing fingers inside of you would start you off heavenly.

“Need it… n-need you.” you huffed as Arts hand slipped under your sports bra to squeeze your breast, quick to rub your sensitive bud under his touch as his lips passed yours. His fingers working at a rough pace at this point that you felt your stomach tighten and he reached a spot you didn’t even know had existed. A high pitched groan had left your lips and he locked with yours to keep you fairly quiet. Then just as you would feel that gracious rush of relief soon to be yours, hitting you like a flow off a mountain — that sly smile of mischief had grown on Arts lips, before pulling his hand out from your skirt, and pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Alright.. good to know.” Is all he uttered before walking away. Walking back out on that court and leaving you there, practically soaked and needing more.

Fuck

You’ve never found yourself so sexually frustrated that it was a different kind of rush you weren’t exactly prepared for. You knew Tashi was the one who loved a good game, and Art came off so easy going to the get up, not needing much for the win — till it was time to touch you or Tashi. Then it had just been all game. All teasing. All begging for more. He craved it, lived for it.

“I asked if you understood.” Tashi’s voice had you coming back to your senses and into the present. Standing in front of the woman already bored of the entire conversation.

You did know that her taking you in at all even with your background being in a completely different kind of wave from her world, was a huge risk to her career and her name. You really were almost too fucking lucky enough to be standing in the home of star athletes like she and Art. To be more intertwined with them than anyone out there. Skin to skin and an intimacy that was almost spiritual.

So with that knowledge, you truly didn’t see it being beneath Tashi to send you back right where you came from. To which that made a burn in your chest.

You couldn’t lose what you had worked so hard for, you couldn’t lose her attention and so much care even if seemed distant. You couldn’t lose Art, not when you were this close to being finally one with him this time. They believed in you enough, and they’d know when you were ready. It’s not like you had any direction before you were chosen by them anyways.

Tashi was completely right, you were no longer just some ballerina trying to make it. You were gonna be theirs to keep — they were gonna love you, and everything you did, every step and hit on that court till it hurt. You were gonna make them proud. You were going to play some good fucking tennis.

You had looked up at Tashi, doe eyed yet tired with a nod, “I understand. Completely.”

A/N: this is the first time I haven’t done full on p in v smut since I wanted to keep it short and sweet bc I plan on turning this fic into a series hopefully :) I rly loved this idea and thought it was a unique spin on the challengers uv — also want to bring in some Patrick action asp so lmk what you think or where it can go from here !! I love feedback it’s sooo appreciated <3 xoxo

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Season Two}

Season one

Chapter Seventeen - End of the season

♡♡♡

The duke and duchess were holding the last ball of the season. It was going to be a grand event to be certain. The whole ton would be there.

You were wearing your last gown made for the season. It was beautiful. A shade of green. It had little jewels sewn into it, so it would sparkle while you danced.

You looked forward to seeing Thomas.

Though you had not secured an engagement within the time of the season, you hoped that you may continue to correspond with Thomas while he was in the country, and perhaps go see him at his family estate, that he may ask.

Your mother would be so proud.

Your maid did your hair and helped the jewellery. It was going to be a spectacular season finale. You could feel it in your bones.

Hastings House was beautiful.

You walked with your mother around the fountain to the main entrance. The ball was to be held in a small courtyard in the middle of the house. Daphne had done a splendid job.

There was a painting of the duke and duchess on display. Painted bt Henry Granville. It was beautifully done.

You stand off to the side while your mother chats with guests. You watch people waltz.

Violet arrives with Eloise. Daphne goes to talk to her sister.

You keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Thomas.

The next to come through the door are the Featheringtons. You cannot deny your relief at seeing Penelope again. Granted, she is wearing yellow, but she is here.

One dance ends, and the next dance begins.

You take a stroll about the ball. Thomas has yet to arrive, it seems. You smile at Penelope as you pass her. She smiles back, too, seemingly surprised you had paid her any attention. People usually don't.

You see Colin parting ways with Benedict across the room. Your eyes follow the second eldest Bridgerton as he walks.

He hasn't noticed you.

Maybe that's for the best...

No.

No. He is your friend and you want to talk to him. You are about to make your way across the room when a servant comes up to you with a note on his tray. You look at him confused.

"For you, ma'am."

You look at the note and pick it up. The servant leaves, and you unfold the paper. The handwriting belongs to Thomas.

I must apologise. I am to leave for York immediately. I shall not be at the Hastings ball. Do have fun on my behalf.

- T. Hardy

You stare at the note in silence. He's not coming at all. He must have left earlier in the day. Perhaps in a rush. You had been at the Bridgertons that afternoon, so if he called the house, you wouldn't have seen him.

If he had called to the house, the butler would have told you, or even your mother. He did not call... So he must have been in a rush.

You sigh. You fold the note back up and leave it on a tray of a passing waiter. They can dispose of it for you.

Glancing up, you find two blue eyes gazing at you. Benedict has seen you. Now you're definitely going to go talk to him. You make your way across the courtyard and come to stand beside Benedict.

"Hello."

"Hello," he replies softly.

Silence fills the space between you, and you turn to the dancers to occupy yourself, and to keep from looking at him again.

"Is Lord Hardy not with you?" Benedict couldn't help asking. He was surprised to see you standing alone tonight.

"No. He left London already. Back to York."

Benedict is even further surprised by the information. He thought Hardy would stay until the very end. He believed the man to be falling for you.

"I see."

You look down and try to keep yourself in check. "I thought maybe I had finally found someone. Someone who perhaps desried me, but it seems I was wrong."

Benedict keeps quiet.

"I wasn't enough for anyone this season. I tried, and I failed. Doesn't matter, I suppose. Next year might be different."

"You didn't fail."

You look up at Benedict. "I didn't secure a proposal or even managed to keep a man interested enough to at least say goodbye before he left."

"You might see him again," he says.

"Somehow, I feel not."

Benedict feels for you. You have been nothing but glorious and wonderful and yourself all year round. You wiggled yourself into the lives of his family and became a pleasant consistent in their lives. You encouraged his passions and made him feel a little more like himself.

"You didn't fail," he says again.

You look up at him and crack a smile. "Next year then."

He nods.

The music changes and the floor is cleared. You notice the duke and duchess approach each other. You knew something had happened between them, but didn't know what. Yet, here they were about to dance for the ton.

You smile at Daphne as dances with her husband. They look like such a handsome couple. You envy them. You envy what they have.

The way they look at each other. How close he holds her to him.

Love.

It is so rare. It's so rare that very few people ever get to feel it for real. You want it. You want to know what it feels like to have, well, a soulmate. The one person made just for you. To love and to hold. To cherish. To share every moment with.

Benedict shifts hisngaze from his sister to look at you. He can see the way you watch Daphne and Simon dance.

Benedict's had fun. He played around. Tested the waters. But looking at you right here and right now makes him rethink everything.

Genevieve has certainly been fun. Yet, if you were going to try again for your own sake next year, perhaps he should, too. You, who inspired his art. Inspired him to try harder and practise more.

Perhaps next season, you will both benefit and grow more as people.

As the waltz continues, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance brings you to look up at the sky. The heavens open and rain pours. You gasp softly as the cool droplets hit your skin.

Benedict instinctively reaches out for you and guides you under the canopy toward the house. You look up at him and then turn back to the ball. Everyone else does the same, seeking shelter from the rain.

Everyone but Daphne.

Simon is holding her hand as if he was guiding her to shelter, but Daphne stops him from doing so. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky, letting the rain fall.

She looks beautiful.

Lady Danbury stops anyone else from going out into the rain. "Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out."

Everyone begins to leave.

Benedict slips his hand into yours and guides you out. You look up at him quietly.

Daphne and Simon have some talking to do.

Benedict guides you through the house and outside to the carriage. It's still raining. His hair sticks to his head and you giggle.

"What?"

"Nothing..." You smile.

He gives you a boyish grin. He helps you into the carriage and stands around in the doorway.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"You leave for the country tomorrow."

"Are you not also?"

"Me and Mama are to stay in London. We don't have a country house to go to in the summer."

Benedict didn't know that. "Did your father not own an estate?"

"We had to sell it when he died. He left us with a great deal of dept."

He realises in that moment how much he doesn't know about you. You're so much more complicated than he originally thought.

Your mother clears her throat and Benedict moves to let her into the carriage.

"See you soon, I hope?" He looks at you.

"I'll write."

He nods and watches the footman close the door. He steps back as the carriage leaves, and Benedict finds himself a little lonely.

♡♡♡

When you rise the next morning, you have no idea of anything that happened within the Featherington house. Lord Featherington died. He was killed.

Penelope spent much of the morning in tears. Elosie had gone to visit her.

Marina went with Sir Philip Crane. The brother of her deceased love who never made it back home. She was to marry him. At least she could have her child and be looked after.

You had decided to go to the Bridgerton house before they all left. It was the least you could do for Benedict and his family. They had all seemed pleased to see you when you arrived, and that made you feel warm inside.

Colin was leaving for Greece. Another reason for Penelope to be upset. Colin was going to be so far away travelling the world.

You waved him off as he rode away on his horse. Benedict had his arm locked with yours.

As the rest of the family headed inside, you struck up conversation with Daphne, Simon, and Anthony. While the duke and duchess are staying in London a little longer, it would seem Anthony intends to find a Viscountess.

That leaves all of you stunned.

Though he follows it up by saying he will keep love out of it to keep things simple. Daphne frowns at that. As do you.

"Perhaps he will learn," she says.

"Perhaps not," you reply.

Eloise hurries over to her brother, who is about to climb onto a horse. You had already said farewell to him.

"Give my regards to Madame Delacroix." She says to Benedict.

"Your regards will have to wait, El," he responds. "She is making a short trip to France."

"Oh? Not going to say goodbye to her?" Eloise asks.

"I did. Last night, if you must know."

Benedict had gone to see her after he bid you goodnight. He went to say goodbye. After seeing you at the ball last night, he decided to change his mind on a few things.

Granted, the goodbye was a long one. He spent a couple of hours at the shop, but nothing untoward happened.

"You said goodbye to her?"

"After Daphne's ball, yes." Benedict then mentioned he spent most of the ball with you.

Eloise worked out that if Madame Delacroix had been at the shop all night. That couldn't have been her in the carriage when Eloise went to protect Whistledown.

Eloise headed back inside.

"Are you coming?" Benedict calls.

You turn and see him on his horse. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He chuckles.

"Where?"

"One last ride around the square before me and my family leave for the summer." He offers.

You smile and look up at him. "I'm not dressed for riding.

"No matter. He offers you his hand."

"Benedict... we cannot create a scandal at the very end of the season."

"Why not?" He grins

"Because I said so."

He laughs.

"Very well. I'm glad you came to see us." He says.

"Me too. Have a lovely summer, Benedict."

"You too." He speaks your name softly, smiling. You both stay like that for a moment, looking at each other. The moment is broken we spurs his horse onward.

You watch him go with a smile.

You look around the square and sigh softly.

Next season was going to be different. It had to be.

♡♡♡

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[averagewriter-inthedark]

Time of Our Lives | Dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader | Dirty Dancing AU

TGM masterlist

Characters & pairings: dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: fluff, light profanity, pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | WC: 8.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @eternalsams 🩶🥹)

Premise: what happens when two childhood best friends from well off families reunite at a country club leading into a summer that would impact their careers for eternity while dancing around a decades worth of brewing feelings and recreating an iconic dance for the country clubs annual showcase? Here’s a hit, it’s gonna be like that one song Baby and Johnny fell in love to.

Note: I am alive and just know I (quite literally) had the time of my life writing this piece. It brought me back to my 80s movies/dirty dancing hyperfixation 😭 @eternalsams thank you so much for your patience and requesting this gem. I hope I did you Justice and dancer Jake has my heart and soul. Thank you for trusting me with your vision 🩶

————————

“You could at least act like you’re having fun, Y/n,” came the scolding words of her mother when she noticed the unamused expression Y/n possessed.

A natural state she would describe since they arrived at the resort. And what Y/n could not depart from no matter how hard she tried.

Summertime. The best time of year for some folks who are eager to get away from the stress and drama of work and school to relax and have fun. Whether it be a week or two whole months. For high school dance teacher Y/n L/n, her ideal summer vacation would be in the comfort of her own home with a book or chilling at her favorite resultant sipping on Margaritas while enjoying live music. Going out with her small select group of friends to dance was also on her list of summer necessities…but her family had other plans.

To kick off her 2023 summer break—which is to last nearly three weeks if she manages to survive—Y/n and her family were at an upscale Catskills resort located in the Appalachian Mountains not too far from New York, the place she currently called home. A snazzy estate one may add, for it was filled with alumni from the top Ivy League schools in the country.

And Y/n’s personal hell.

Of course she loved spending time with her parents and siblings….to an extent. But, when they’re constantly berating her life choices by becoming a dance instructor—on top of displeased opinions of her love life—-Y/n felt suffocated by them.

It was like she could never live up to the expectation they had of her no matter how much she proved herself and her talent. Not only were her parents highly respected doctors in their community, but her sister graduated Summa Cum Laude at Yale Law School, marrying her college sweetheart before taking a job at one of the city’s top firms. Then there was her brother. He went on to become a naval fighter pilot, distinguished and respected with his place at number one in his class during his year at Top Gun. His wife was a trauma nurse who worked at the same hospital as her parents.

Yet here she was—mind you, a former member of the New York City Ballet Company, Juilliard Alumni, performed at the Super Bowl, toured with Rihanna in the mid early 2010s, appeared in several music videos, and teaches at the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts—unable to adhere to their standards.

Parents…they want what’s best for their children. Right?

Yeah she found that hard to believe.

If only they saw her in the Ballroom. And no, not talking about the kind you see on Dancing With The Stars. She’s talking about the Ballroom that calls New York its home.

But also ballroom dancing. Her sister would have a heart attack if she discovered Y/n danced Bachata with Prince Royce at a New York latin club.

“Fun?” Y/n scoffed, sipping at her glass of champagne resulting in a light cringe at the taste. For rich people one would think they’d have the best there was. What just hit her tastebuds was something out of a box container imposing as fancy liquor. “I don’t see how anyone could find this type of rendezvous fun, mother.” She received a scolding glare.

“Keep your voice down,” the older woman kept looking around to see if anyone heard, “these are our friends.”

“Your friends,” Y/n corrected. There was no way in hell she’d consider any of the fake people in front of her friends. No matter how long their families have been acquainted. None of them liked each other, and were always trying to one up whenever someone voiced an accomplishment.

Instead of answering, Y/n’s mother simply walked away with an annoyed huff. No longer in the mood to argue. Rolling her eyes, Y/n downed the last of her champagne before making way out the french doors of the lounge and into one of the many patios. The sunshine greeted her with its vibrant and warm rays. Chatter from the guests sitting under umbrellas and beside the pool filled her ears. Y/n placed her sunglasses and booked it across until she was on the pathway leading to the guesthouse she and her family were staying.

“Y/n!” Had it been anyone else the woman would’ve mentally signed, but the voice behind the greeting was none other than her childhood best friend growing up, Natasha. A genuine smile appeared on her face as she turned around.

“Hey, Nat!” the two embraced in a hug, “Been a while, huh?” In truth the two hadn’t seen each other face to face since 2019 when Natasha moved to California to base her talent agency. Despite this, Natasha still traveled every year to Caskilles around this time to see her family, whereas Y/n remained in New York due to shows and gigs.

“More like four years,” a playful nudge was sent her way, “girl you left me here to fend for myself. I should feel betrayed,” Nat smirked, “but I can’t blame you. The only reason I keep coming to this place is to please my mom. It’s the only time all of us siblings are under the same roof.”

Natasha was the oldest of four and the only daughter to three sons. Her father had been the Mayor of New York City while her mother was the former District Attorney. All of her brothers had achieved prospective careers. Antonio, the second oldest, had been drafted by the MLB and currently played for the Washington Nationals. Dominic, the middle brother, was a nuclear engineer who rarely ever got time off but always managed to get a week in the summer. Lastly the youngest of the bunch, Victor, was a professional photographer who went on tour with artists like Journey, Lionel Richie, Daddy Yankee, and Stevie Nicks.

For Natasha, she had fallen in love with the fashion industry at a young age. After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology Natasha received an intern position at Vogue Magazine before becoming a product and brand marketing manager at Louis Vuitton, for which she got the opportunity to live in Paris, France for four years. There she got to work closely with Virgil Abloh, who unfortunately passed away in 2021, and Nicolas Ghesquiere.

As of 2022 Nat relocated to San Francisco and developed her own talent agency for aspiring models and fashion photographers who come from low-income backgrounds, LGBTQIA+, people of color and disabilities. With its success Nat’s had several clients on the face of Vogue and walking runways at every fashion week.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n said, the two beginning to walk down the path together, “Life’s been hectic. During the pandemic there were little to no gigs so I had no idea what to do.” Unfortunately being in the dance industry meant competitive opportunities with a maybe 10% success rate if lucky. Y/n’s last big break was dancing with Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande in their ‘Rain on Me’ music video. Y/n occasionally attended the Balls in New York, but hadn’t walked a category in ages.

She did have a following on social media, which bought in a reasonable amount of income. Over 100k on YoutTube and roughly 2 half a million on TikTok. Instagram had close to 3 million since it had been the primary platform in the 2010s and several of her dance videos went viral.

“I understand,” Nat nodded solemnly, “It was like that for me too. It’s nice the world is slowly going back to normal. Although,” she paused to chuckle, “the amount of damage control getting bookings back to their normal pace was probably the most stressful point in my career.”

“Has it been easier now?” They stopped at a little bench overlooking the lake, “I saw you were at fashion week.”

Nat instantly brightened. “Much better than before I will say. We’ve got a great wave of new clientele—I just landed this fella a cover with GQ so I’m pleased with that.” Y/n congratulated her before the agent changed the subject, “But enough about me, what about you?”

The woman scoffed, “Well my last big thing was the Lady Gaga music video—and that was going on three years now,” the thought made her frown. It wasn’t like her to go so long without a gig. “I auditioned for a spot on Beyoncé’s tour.”

“The Renaissance tour,” Nat nearly gagged. It was all anyone could talk about since tickets went on sale earlier that year. Nat managed to snag two for her and her boyfriend for the Los Angeles show. “And?”

“I’ll know in about a month or so if I book it.”

“You so got it,” Nat assured with a tap on her shoulder, “You’re one of the best dancers in the world. You danced with Madonna at the Super Bowl,” her gaze became pointed, “and toured with Rihanna. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nat,” Y/n laughed, though deep down she felt the hope in her rise.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha leaned back against the bench and was about to comment when someone in the distance caught her eye. “Is that who I think it is?”

Peeking over her shoulder, Y/n suddenly straightened her posture upon seeing the blonde man grinning from ear to ear as they made eye contact. Jake Seresin certainly landed on the right side of the puberty coin. With his tan, muscular frame, gorgeous green eyes, blonde hair and smile that belonged on the cover of a magazine, he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Ladies, fancy seeing you two here on this beautiful afternoon.”

A wave of butterflies simmered in Y/n’s tummy, a shy smile forming as he approached the bench. It’d been several years since the two saw each other despite being friends since childhood. “Jake,” she greeted, moving to accept his hug when he opened his arms. Natasha followed before the two sat back down, “It’s good to see you. Is your mom with you?”

Like Natasha and her family, Jake’s were part of the same circuit in terms of highly respected, sometimes influential people. His mother, a doctor, was a colleague of Y/n’s parents, and his late father was one of Texas’ Congressmen during the 2000-2010s. Jake’s only sibling, his sister Krista, was a young adult novelist with over ten publications.

Jake on the other hand was like Y/n: a professional dancer and known in the industry as a real life Ken Doll. He had a massive following online, choreographed music videos and tours—even went on tour with Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber, & Ariana Grande—and was a guest judge on ‘So You Think You Can Dance,”. During the pandemic a lot of his dance sequences went viral and became trends, Y/n even posted on to which he reposted with the caption, “you know I had to shine the spotlight on my favorite dance partner. Miss you Y/n/n.”

You can bet Y/n experienced internal fireworks.

There was no denying she had a crush on Jake growing up. The two were inseparable whenever their families stayed at the resort. They’d even make trips out to each other during winter break, eventually attended Juilliard at the same time, and collaborated early in their careers. Jake and Y/n used to sneak out of the country club when they were younger to dance on the dock while blasting music from the boom box they’d stolen from the lounge. They learned ballroom together, competing in competition without Y/n’s family having knowledge of it.

Unlike Y/n’s parents, Jake’s mom and dad approved of his career choice. Though skeptical in the beginning, they grew to be very supportive and attended his showcases at school, the concert he was performing in and kept up with what he was doing.

Because of their disapproval of her pursuing dance, Y/n believes their learning of Jake’s endeavors resulted in them no longer coming to the country club if he and his family were there. They also never asked about him or worked with his mother despite being in the same field. It’s like they blamed Jake for Y/n not becoming what they wanted her to be: a doctor or a lawyer.

“She and my sis are settling in,” he gestured down the path he came, where several cabins were located. “We just got in about an hour ago.”

“How long are you guys here for?” The question came from Nat, who threw a look at Y/n.

Jake didn’t notice, “a couple weeks. Needed a break from the world—and Mr. Collins asked me to help him with this showcase he’s putting together.” Y/n raised her brow.

“Showcase?”

“It’s more for the youngins,” Jake explained. “He asked if I could help teach some dance lessons for those interested.” Though it physically hurt not to react, Y/n somehow managed to remain neutral. Even putting a semi-fake smile.

How come Mr. Collins didn’t ask her?

“Stop it,” the voice in her head said, “it’s not a competition and you know Jake would never be upset if the roles were reversed.”

“Wow, Jake, that's great!” She was happy for him. And scolded herself mentally for the childish thought she had. Jake was an exceptional dancer and a great teacher. Y/n had watched some of his YouTube videos in passing and had no doubt he could get the job done.

“Say if you have the time I’d be happy to have you join in,” he flashes a smile that would have any girl weak in the knees. “I’d say you’re more of an expert in certain areas that I’m not really well acquainted with.” Warmth fills her chest.

“I’d love to. Thank you, Jake.”

The second he departed Natasha was on Y/n. “Girl, if you do not hop on that—.”

“Natasha!”

“What?” She whispers shouts after being hushed, “you’re into him, he’s so into you,” Y/n’s expression is that of, ‘You’re delusional’. “Skip the previews and start the movie.” Now that was a metaphor Y/n had not heard before, but clever nonetheless.

“Jake and I have been friends for years,” Y/n brushed her off. “I am not going to risk ruining what we have because of some middle school crush.” The brunette rolls her eyes.

“But it’s not, ‘some middle school crush.’ You’ve had feelings for him for over decades now—which is a conversation for another day,” Y/n makes a sound of offense, but does not deny the woman. “It’s time to put on your big girl panties and get your man.”

She’s quiet for a moment, glancing to her feet, “What if it’s not meant to be. My family would never approve—.”

“Like you’ve let them dictate what you do in life.”

“My point is—,” Y/n cuts back, “I’ve already disappointed them with my career path. Call me naive or delusional, but I don’t want to have to deal with constantly being berated for my choice of partner. Jake is wonderful in every aspect, but what he does will just set my parents off again for another twenty years if by some miracle we start something up.”

Natasha sighs, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Sometimes you have to accept that parents are always going to have their opinions that are unchangeable. And you have to let go of the hope they’ll come around. Y/n, you’ve dealt with this since you were seventeen, maybe it’s time to distance yourself from it.”

“And if it all backfires and I end up alone?”

“You’ll never be alone,” she nudges her, “I’m here. And even if it all blows to hell, then at least you can say you tried.”

The next day Y/n found Jake at the little studio room the club used to teach waltz lessons. She was met with his gorgeous smile and an army of preteens in the middle of showing off who could do the best tik tok dance. “I see I’ve interrupted a very important matter.”

“None wanted to do the one I created,” he dramatically pouts, “saying it was too complicated.”

She laughed, “Well they’re not wrong.”

“Hey!”

For the next week, Y/n and Jake spent four hours a day--two in the morning and two in the afternoon--with the kids teaching them different styles of dance. Of course the crowd favored breakdancing, hip hop, modern, and vogue, but would request to watch Jake and Y/n perform routines they used to do back in the day. Swing was a popular one, as was quickstep and jive because of its upbeat and face paced. One day Jake busted out his tap dancing skills while Y/n displayed some ballet.

“How can a person do that?” a kid commented as she stood on revelé. Jake leaned down, whispering, “she’s secretly an alien from another planet.”

“C’mon I wanna show you something,” Jake grabs her hand one night after dinner. He leads her to a cabin not too far from the main resort where members of the staff have started a party. On the speakers were some 2000s hits that summed up the millennial crowd. Jake waved to some of the guys who ran group activities in the corner, Y/n spotted the culinary department at the food table. And if she were to glance at the door on the opposite end of the cabin, she’d see the housekeeping passing around an object containing a certain plant.

“What’s this?”

“The only place where the workers get to catch a break after spending all day with those uptight rich folks. They call it ‘Dirty Dancing’,” Y/n’s expression becomes amused, letting out a soft laugh.

“Like the 80s movie with Patrick Swayze?” Jake beams.

“The one and only,” taking her hand once more, he leads her to the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

To say the two became the life of the party was an understatement. Jake spun Y/n to the sound of her laughter and Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Jumping up and down with a crowd around them to Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything.”

“Tonight, I want all of you tonight,” They pointed to each other, “Give me everything tonight.” Y/n pointed to the girl beside her, “For all we know we might not get tomorrow. Let’s do it tonight.” Jake fist pumped with some guys around him, “Don’t care what they say, or what games they play. Nothing is enough, ‘til they handle love.” people in the back shouted “let’s do it tonight.”

“I want you tonight, I want you to stay,” Jake gave Y/n a look, “I want you tonight,” she squealed upon him pulling her toward him, “Grab somebody sexy tell ‘em hey.” the entire house exploded into the chorus. Everyone having the time of their lives, it felt like a scene from a movie.

Y/n pulled girls into the middle during Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies.’ Then they carried the party when ‘Year 3000’ by the Jonas Brothers came on. “He said, ‘I've been to the year 3000. Not much has changed, but they lived underwater. And your great-great-great-granddaughter is doing fine!”

Some staff who happened to be part of the New York Ballscene recognized Y/n, leading to a vogue battle to commence. “This is what I wanna see!”

Let’s just say….that was the moment Jake knew he was in love.

“‘Cause we are living in a material world. And I am a material girl,” The next morning Y/n was rudely awoken by her ringtone. “Hello,” her groggy voice answered, hearing Jake on the opposite end sounding equally as tired.

“Are you busy this afternoon in between lessons?”

“Not that I know of. What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with Collin,” his tone shifted to one she couldn’t decipher, “He’s asking if you and I would be interested in performing at the showcase.” Jolting from the bed, Y/n was fully awake.

“Come again.”

“You and me. Me and you,” Jake repeated, “we put on a little number for the finale.”

Fiddling with her pajama top, Y/n suddenly became nervous. The night before she was on Cloud 9 with the way Jake was looking at her. They danced the night away and those feelings she desperately tried to hide were slowly becoming difficult to keep down. “What did you have in mind?”

“Time of My Life, really?” The two were at the studio dressed in comfy attire they usually danced in. “Don’t you think that’s a little cliche.”

“I thought it was fitting,” the blonde rebutted. Jake suggested the two perform the iconic dance sequence at the end of the 80s classic. “What, you got something against it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Only that my parents blame my childhood obsession with it as the reason I didn’t follow their dreams for me.” Jake made a face.

“They’re still not over that?”

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’. “In fact they still remind me every chance they get about it.”

Jake finished setting up the song loop, standing from his crouching position, “Well, let’s prove just how wrong they were when you blow their mind with your talent at the showcase.”

Between the giggles and constantly finding any moment to procrastinate, it was a miracle the two managed to choreograph a routine. It wasn’t an exact copy of the iconic dance Baby and Johnny performed, but they kept some elements in.

Including the lift.

“Jake, I don’t know about this,” Y/n shivered when her body hit the cold water, following him until their waists were submerged. The whole idea made her nervous. It was an intimidating maneuver.

Jake, however, did not show any sign of hesitation. “Worried I’d drop you?” he teased, “I thought you trusted me? We used to do this all the time as kids.”

“Exactly. I do trust you, but we’re not fifteen anymore. I’m not--,” he cut her off gently.

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” his look was soft but serious at the same time. “You have nothing to worry about. And besides, we’re out here taking precautions instead of being in the studio where if something did go wrong, we’re not as likely to end up in the ER.”

Sighing, Y/n rubbed her eyes. “Fine, let’s just get this over with, before I drown in embarrassment..”

About two and half hours of non-stop repetition of Jake lifting Y/n in the air passed. Sometimes he purposely lost footing so they both planted into the freezing lake water and other times he genuinely faltered. “Jake!”

“I’m sorry!” Thankfully at least one out of every ten attempts were a success. By that we’re talking they were able to hold the position for more than four seconds. “Okay, we’re done for the day.”

As the sun started to set, Jake climbed onto the dock before pulling Y/n up. “Thanks,” she took the towel he handed her, immediately squeezing the excess water from her hair. “Well that was fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, grabbing his towel. “I think we made some great progress. We’ll go through the whole routine tomorrow and see what needs adjustments.” The showcase was in just over a week, meaning they were crunching down on time.

“Sounds like a plan.” Stars painted the sky, the two eventually sitting on the dock with their towels wrapped around them. Soft music played from Jake’s speaker.

“How’s it been for you?” Jake was the one to break the silence, “thinking about it, we haven’t really got the chance to catch up. New York still treating you well?”

“Oh uh,” Y/n swallowed, unsure of how to answer without sounding too pessimistic. “It’s been alright. I’ve been teaching for the last two years.”

“A teacher you say? Where at?”

“Frank Sinatra School of Arts.” Jake’s smile grew.

“That’s amazing!” Butterflies erupted at his praise. “I’m happy for you, Y/n, really. You’re inspiring the next generation.”

“Thanks,” she looked away, unable to keep eye contact when her heart was beating so fast. ‘Geez, why am I like this? He’s making me feel like I’m fourteen again.’ “I’ve enjoyed it. My students were amazing.” Jake raised a curious brow.

“Are you not teaching anymore?”

Y/n bit her lip, “well, I haven’t renewed my contract for the upcoming school year yet,” she paused before adding, “I’m waiting to find out if I got a spot on this tour I auditioned for.” Now Jake was super curious. Lots of artists were touring that summer. The Jonas Brothers, Big Time Rush, Kesha, SZA, and of course the much anticipated Era’s and Renaissance tours of Taylor Swift and Beyonce.

And Jake was going to be involved in one.

“Is it okay if I ask which one?” his tone had an underlying hint of excitement at the thought the two might work together. Traveling across the country in what would be one of the best experiences in their lives.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “something tells me you have a secret, Jake Seresin. Would you like to share with the class what’s on your mind?”

Scratching his head, Jake answered, “I’m not really supposed to say…..but,” she held her breath, releasing with a low gasp, “I’ll be touring with Taylor Swift.”

“Wow,” the woman was speechless, breaking into a massive grin. “I-uh, wow, Jake that’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he accepted her hug, not caring that their clothes were still damp. “I honestly didn’t believe I’d get it.” a playful slap landed on his arm.

“Please,” came her scoff, “You really thought Miss Americana herself would not see the talent in front of her?” Y/n mentally cheered in victory at the sight of his blush. “She’d be foolish to not have you as part of her time.”

“Okay okay,” he swatted her hands away with a chuckle. “Now answer my question.”

Once revealing who’s tour Y/n auditioned for, the two embarked on an hour long conversation about their careers and life. Jake mentioned how he had been in a relationship but it didn’t work out. Y/n vented on the ongoing emotional feud with her family--to which Jake told her, “It’s their loss for not seeing you the way the rest of the world does.”

Yeah, that made her melt.

By the end of the night there was a shift in the atmosphere. Both felt it, glancing away when they held eye contact longer than usually without a word passing by. They had suddenly become quiet, only the crickets singing through the trees.

“It’s getting late,” Y/n rushed out, moving to stand. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jake mirrored her movements. “Same time.” Heading back to the cabins their families were staying at, they arrived at Y/n’s first.

Opening her mouth to say goodnight and avoid an awkward moment, Y/n’s words paused upon seeing Jake’s expression, “You look troubled.”

“I--,” he began before stopping, causing Y/n’s nerves to rise. “It’s nothing.”

The dancer wasn’t having it, “No, no no,” she playfully raised a hand, “you can’t leave me hanging like that, Jake. I thought we were friends.” Suddenly it became quiet again. Next thing Y/n knew was Jake softly grabbing her hand.

“You know I adore you right?”

Her heart skipped, “Not really, but I do now,” the light chuckle was obviously embedded with nerves. “I adore you too.”

“And we’ve been….rather close for a long time.”

“Yes,” the word trailed off her tongue, somehow managing to hold the eye contact Jake was giving her. She was practically pinned where she stood.

“I realize this isn’t the best time or way to say this,” his cheeks become rosy, “but I’ve really enjoyed these past couple weeks catching up and being able to dance again like we used to. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring back some feelings I tried to ignore for fear it would ruin what we have.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what was happening, “Bring back?” Did the man she secretly longed for since they were teenagers want her too? After all this time? She nearly pinched herself.

Jake looked away, bringing his other hand to scratch his neck. “Yeah. Look, I understand if you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry for dropping this on you but after the party I felt like my world was finally on its axis. You…” he struggles finding the right words, “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we could be. You’re my best friend, Y/n. And I view you as someone I wanna dance with till we’re old and gray.”

“Jake,” his name was the softest it had ever been coming out of her mouth. Here was the moment she had been dreaming about. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

His reaction was immediate, “You--you feel the same?” The tone was that of disbelief and hope. Heart pounding beneath his skin.

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, grinning ear to ear, “There is no one else in this world I’d rather dance with than you, Jake. I’ve felt this way about you for as long as I can remember.”

Not wasting a second longer, Jake leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Fireworks exploded between the two, the butterflies escaping their stomachs to swarm around them. Jake's lips were soft against hers, moving slowly as though to commit them to memory. When they pulled away, he kept his forehead against hers, “wow.”

She giggled, repeating, “wow.”

“Is this what Could 9 is supposed to feel like? Because I’m getting those vibes.”

Y/n threw her head back, laughing before covering her mouth when she remembered her family was asleep on the other side of the door, “You’re not the only one, hot shot. If this is what cloud 9 feels like then I never want to lose it.”

In the days following that magical night, the two continued their practice session. Perfecting the dance to where they didn’t even hear the music to be able to hit the steps right. When it came to the lift, however, Y/n was still worried of a disaster. Thankfully after several successful attempts at the studio she was able to let go of her doubt.

Plus she was tired of hearing Jake’s teasing.

Each night after parting ways that afternoon the two would meet up at the docks. Spending hours laying on the wood to watch the stars twinkle and talk about life. Then Jake would walk her back to the cabin, saying goodbye with a sweet kiss. With every minute they spent together, every dance, every kiss, both Jake and Y/n were falling more and more for each other.

One could go as far as to say it was love.

One could say they were having the time of their lives.

But of course what is life without a little drama? Y/n silently prayed drama would be avoided. Once in her life could things just be great? Without the everlying feeling of something going wrong?

Yeah, it was too good to be true.

“Jake!” a voice interrupted the peaceful morning, ripping the two apart from their kiss. They had gone for a jog together that morning around the lake, stopping at their usual spot of the docks before heading to the studio to practice for the night's event. Turning to the direction of the voice, Y/n’s eyes landed on a fiery redhead storming up the path. Her attention was on the man beside her, not hiding the obvious fact she was furious. “Who the hell is that?”

“Tatiana?” Jake’s tone was of shock and confusion. He let go of Y/n’s face he had been cradling, but kept a firm touch on her arm. “W-what are you--.”

“Is it so much to ask for you to answer your phone?” stopping in front of the two, her blazing hazel eyes locked on Y/n. “Who are you? And why the fuck were you making out with my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” she stammered, glacing at Jake who now looked pissed off. ‘He’s had a girlfriend this whole time?”

“I haven’t been your boyfriend since December, Tatiana,” he raised a pointed finger, casting a look to Y/n with pleading eyes that he was telling the truth. “We’ve been broken up for a while now.” he turned back to his ex, “You made that clear to me when you had me choose between the career I’ve spent decades building and you.”

There was anger in his tone, not pleased with her claims. Y/n didn’t know what to believe, all she could feel was a weight clamping down on her shoulder.

“Oh really,” removing her phone from her back pocket, Tatiana tapped the screen a few times before pushing it in Y/n’s face, “Does that seem like it to you.” Leaning forward, Y/n gulped at the sight of text messages indicating Jake and Tatianna had been in contact a few months prior. From the looks of it, Tatiana was hoping the two could pick up where they left off and Jake replying, ‘I’ll think about it,’ then it was silent until this past week where Tatiana sent texts asking when they could meet up. Jake, however, responded it wasn’t a good time and believed the two should stay friends.

“Y/n,” Jake started, glancing back between her and Tatiana, which only made her more perplexed. Unable to decipher what he was thinking. “Just please, wait right here.” He gently squeezed her arm, brushing their fingers together as he let go. Then before she could say anything, Y/n watched Jake gently escort Tatiana away from the docks. They went a good distance away to where Y/n was unable to hear the two. With Jake’s back to her, Y/n’s view was of the red head’s angry expression as she pushed her finger into Jake’s chest.

She saw him gently raise his hands, stepping away to escalate the situation. Y/n’s head spun, feeling a wave of nausea and the woman grabbed her water bottle from the ground. In a fast pace, Y/n stepped off the dock and onto the path leading back to the clubhouse. Once a distance away she broke out into a run, unaware if Jake saw her leave considering his back was to her. This was confirmed when she didn’t hear him call out for her.

Sprinting past the clubhouse, Y/n made a beeline for her cabin. Throwing the door open she moved past the living room not caring if anyone was there and straight to her bedroom where she locked the door behind her, pressing her back against it and sliding down to the floor to finally catch her breath.

Her water bottle had been drained, sweat coating her forehead and tears threatening to spill. Covering her mouth, Y/n refused to let the sob forming in her throat to release. There was no time to let her heartbreak. Not when the showcase was fast approaching.

The showcase.

“Fuck,” she sniffed, kicking off her shoes in the process. Of course it had to be that day all blows to hell. The perfect world she thought she finally obtained crashing down.

Of course she was being dramatic. Her life was shy from perfect, and this was another dent in the walls she tried to build.

She kept thinking of Jake. Willing herself to not jump to conclusions. He was clearly taken aback by Tatiana’s appearance. Even more when she called herself his girlfriend. Jake appeared rather offended by the accusation they were still together. Bottom line of the story: there was tension--especially animosity--between them, unfinished business if Y/n had to guess.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t bear to witness it. Right now she needs to think with a blank mind. And with Jake already spamming her phone, the solution for peace and quiet was to turn off her phone. Going as far as to power off her apple watch and not have music play while she showered.

The tears slowly cascaded while Y/n stood beneath the water. It was eerie with the silence, but it assisted with the clearing of her thoughts. Once clean Y/n dressed in comfy clothes and decided to nap for the remainder of the day. The morning had drained her, and until it came time to get ready for her dance with Jake--which she already dreaded--Y/n willed herself to sleep imagining what the day had been if his ex had never stepped foot on the docks.

“Need some help?” Y/n jumped, the hair clip falling from her hand. In the mirror she found Nat staring back at her with a sympathetic smile. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thanks,” she picked up the clip, holding up for Nat, who took it in her hand and stood behind Y/n. Gathering her hair up, Nat styled it in a messy but pretty updo.

“You seem tense for someone so used to the spotlight by now.”

A frown appeared, “It’s always nerve racking going on stage in front of people no matter how long you’ve done it.” Nat wasn’t buying it.

“Wanna talk about it? I know it’s more than a few nerves rustling your feathers, Y/n.”

Biting her lip, the dancer shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be, Nat. Simple as that.” Sadness washed over her for the millionth time since that morning. She hasn’t seen Jake since, only replying to his several texts after a dozen unanswered calls to confirm she would still do the showcase.

Although part of her thought about backing out.

“What exactly happened?” Nat softly asked, moving to now help Y/n on her makeup. She was going for a simple look so she lightly concealed, blushed, highlighted and added some minimal eye makeup.

“Everything felt so amazing” she started, looking up as Nat dabbed the beauty blender under her eyes. “After we did the lift at the lake, we talked for hours on the dock and when he walked me back to the cabin….he told me how he felt about me,” Y/n could still feel the tingles on her lips, “and we kissed.”

Nat withheld squealing, knowing it was a bad moment considering it didn’t end the way she hoped for her best friend. Now she was conspiring on how to get payback on Jake. Filled with sudden disdain.

“The next few days went by--like I was walking on cloud 9. The way he looked at me, Nat,” Y/n connected their eyes, “It was magical.” Nat brushed powder onto her cheeks, followed by light blush and highlighter.

“And then what happened.”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, making her slouch, “Jake’s ex showed up this morning.” Nat’s hand froze, a second passing before continuing its movement. “They broke up last year, but I guess they were in the works of getting back together. Because she was very vocal about it--not shy of asking who the fuck I was and why was I with her boyfriend.”

“And what was Jake’s reaction?”

Y/n waited until after Nat finished sweeping a thin coat of eyeliner to answer, “He denied it--was very shocked when she showed up out of the blue. Said that she ended things because he refused to choose her over his career. Then she went on about how they were talking things out--that a few months ago he said he’d think about it.” Y/n thought back to the texts, “She showed me the messages from this week. He rejected her invite to meet up and said that they should remain friends. Then he pulled her aside to talk where I couldn’t hear. I sorta left after that.”

Nat grabbed the mascara, “You didn’t wait for him to explain?”

“Could you blame me?” Y/n rebutted, a little on the defense but not saying it in a mean tone. “I was dealing with a hundred emotions. Confusion, embarrassment, shame, sadness, anger. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell. But the only thing I could do was shut down and walk away.”

Nat said nothing, spraying Y/n’s face with a setting mist before handing her the tube of her favorite lipstick.

“I know,” Y/n groans, “I should’ve stayed--to at least hear him out. But I didn’t want to face the humiliation if it were true.”

“And if it’s not true?” Nat suggested, “What if he was genuine and they really are done? Where does that leave you two?”

Blotting the color onto her lips, Y/n capped the tube and threw it into her makeup bag with a shug, “I don’t know, Nat. We’ll find out tonight I guess.” Taking one last glance in the mirror, she added, “That’s if he shows up--which I doubt he won’t. He wouldn’t want to let Collins down.” leaning back in the char, Y/n turns to her friend. “Thanks for the hair and makeup.”

Nat patted her shoulder, “anytime. You look beautiful. That dress was made for you.” Y/n bore a light pink dress with a flowy skirt and corset styled top. It was similar to the one Baby wore in Dirty Dancing, ironically enough, but unique in its own way. She paired it with simple dance shoes.

“Thank you, Nat.”

A thought suddenly came to the brunette, “Hey, did you ever hear back from that audition?”

There was no hiding her grin, Y/n looked like a child having just received a gift from Santa, “I got a call back. They’re having me fly to L.A. next week to dance for them again.” Nat jumped from her seat, squealing and pulling the woman into a hug.

“Ah that’s amazing! Congratulations--I’m so so happy for you!!”

“Thank you,” Nat’s happiness was contagious, making Y/n giggle as they swayed side to side. “I can’t believe I’m so close.”

“I knew you’d get it,” Nat maveled, playfully pinching Y/n’s side making her swat at her hand.

The happy moment was interrupted right on cue as Mr. Collins rushed in. “There you are!” He was frantic, clipboard in hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Seresin?” Y/n’s heart dropped.

“No,” was her response, heat coating her skin. “I thought he was here already.” Collins took a peek at his watch, groaning in annoyance.

“You guys are the last ones so that gives me hope he’s just running late,” Motioning for Y/n to follow him, the man leads the two out of the makeshift dressing room. “You’ll wait by the end of the side stage while the other performers have their turn. Then I’ll announce--hopefully both of you--and we’ll call this showcase a success. Which by the way,” he spins around, stopping Y/n in her tracks, “Do you happen to have a backup plan by any chance if our friend decides to be a no-show?”

Y/n stuttered lightly, hands up in a ‘Not really?’ She goes, “I mean I can whip something up--Not to toot my own horn but I’m pretty good at what I do and will dance to any music you give me.”

“Fantastic,” Collins snaps his finger, “We’ll work with that.” Spinning back again, Collins high tails it to the stage, Y/n taking claim to a chair a few paces from the steps. She spotted Nat seated with her family, Y/n’s own folks at a table in the far back. Almost like they were hiding from the rest of the guests, causing her heart to sink further.

Collins opened the showcase with an animated greeting to the audience. After some announcements and thanks to staff and sponsors who helped put the showcase together, he introduced the first of 10 performers on the list. Nearly all were the teens and children Y/n taught with Jake, the woman standing from her chair to cheer them on. At the eighth performance she froze at the sight of the blonde man behind the curtain. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Y/n ducked back to her chair, peeking slightly to find him conversing with Collins.

‘Well looks like I’m not getting out of this one,’ she thought to herself.

When the second to last performer appeared, Y/n found Nat in the audience. The two shared a look, Nat able to see the unease seeping off Y/n, and throwing her thumbs up in hopes to relieve some of it. The (y/h/c) shook her head slightly, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless with a small smile.

Mr. Collins glides to the stage one final time, “And now,” a quick glance to his clipboard, then to the side of the stage opposite of Y/n, a smile curling on his lips. “We have a very special presentation from two people who were kind enough to help me put this whole shabang together,” raising a hand out he announces, “Please welcome the beautiful and ever so talented, here to bring you the time of your life, Jake Seresin and Y/n L/n!!”

There was a light applause from the adults overshadowed by the children, teens, staff members, and Natasha. Y/n’s parents were unreactive, glancing at her siblings wondering if they knew to which they received shrugs.

Still sitting in a chair just off the stage, not moving despite the lights flashing on her, Y/n’s head was down. The door was not far. She could easily make an escape. But she felt eyes on from those within view and felt trapped. To run now would be a lifetime of embarrassment and shame.

“C’mon, Y/n,” she scolded under her breath. “It’s just one dance.” "Then you can go back to New York and pray this whole thing never happened.”

As the thought left her mind, footsteps came toward her, and Y/n glanced up to find Jake, dressed in black slacks and buttoned down enough to make a girl weak in the knees, staring down at her with an expression that took her breath away. It was as though they were the only two in the room, much like in the studio. Everyone else simply disappeared. Leaving two people who danced around feelings for years only to come together at that very moment.

Whatever hostility Y/n had for Jake was gone. She saw the pure love in his eyes. Pleading with her to give him a chance.

Simply holding his hand out to her, Jake held her gaze and spoke clearly for everyone to hear, “Nobody puts Y/n in a corner.” Had her heart not been beating at 100 miles per second, Y/n would’ve laughed at the reference. Considering how fitting it was to their situation.

The beginning lyrics of the song echoed as Jake led her to the middle of the stage. Already igniting applause from the audience who recognized it. “Now I’ve had the time of my life.” An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her to him. Never once straying eye contact “No, I’ve never felt this way before.” Y/n dipped back, Jake keeping her from falling to the floor until she was upright, “Yes I swear, It’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

“‘Cause I’ve,” Jake came around to her left, Y/n bringing up a hand which his own followed the trail of her arm. She caressed the side of his face. His group of friends hooting and hollering, “had the time of my life. And I owe it all to you.” A gentle kiss was placed on her nose.

Cheers from their students erupted when Jake spun Y/n, bringing a smile to both their faces as they began their routine. “I’ve been waiting for so long. Now I’ve finally found someone to stand by me.” Natasha whistled from her seat, “Yeah!”

“We saw the writing on the wall. As we felt this magical fantasy.”

All through the dance Y/n never once stopped grinning. Jake’s aura, the nostalgia of the song, and the love she had for dance were contagious. “Now with passion in our eyes, there’s no way we could disguise it secretly.” Unbeknownst to the woman, her parents and siblings were watching in awe. Having been the first time they truly watched her perform. “So we take each other’s hands,” Jake spun her again, Y/n throwing her arms in the air, head swaying back and forth. “‘Cause we seem to understand the urgency.”

“Just remember,” the pace picked up. “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” Y/n was lifted, dress flowing as Jake twirled them in circles. The audience applauded with glee.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before.” The cheers heightened when the two pressed against each other, the sight very intimate. “Yes, I swear, it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Jake snuck a kiss to her cheek, moving away to leap off the stage. “Hey, baby!” Y/n tilted her head back in laughter, fingers on the hem of her dress skirt and swaying to the beat.

“With my body and soul, I want you more than you’ll ever know. So we’ll just let it go, don’t be afraid to lose control, no.” It was Jake’s moment to shine. He fed off the energy of the crowd, winking at his boys in the back hyping him up. Y/n caught Natasha’s thumbs up, the two sharing a silent victory. “Yes I know what’s on your mind. When you say, ‘Stay with me tonight’.”

“Stay with me. Just remember,” Jake danced up and down the aisle, “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” locking eyes, they gave each other a nod. “This could be love,” staff helped Y/n off the stage, the woman bolting toward Jake, “because--.” Squeezing every muscle in her body, Y/n exhaled in relief as she was successfully lifted in the air.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I’ve never felt this way before.” It was a spectacular scene around them with everyone jumping from their seats, in awe of what they were witnessing. “Yes, I swear (yes I swear), it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

Y/n giggled the whole way down, arms sliding over Jake’s shoulder who shared her happiness. “‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door,” Several people joined in the celebration. Spouses dancing together, children off beat but having the time of their life like the song called for. “‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Even Y/n’s parents managed to get on their feet.

Finally seeing their daughter for who she was.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, the first words spoken between the two. It made her heart skip, filled with an overwhelming surge of happiness.

“I feel like I’m on cloud 9,” the response had Jake chuckle, pulling her closer to him as he voiced, “me too, doll.”

They kept their gaze on one another, swaying chest to chest, the tune became softer, “Now I’ve had the time of my life. No I never felt this way before (never felt this way),” Jake’s hand caressed her cheek, Y/n leaning into it. “Yes, I swear, It’s the truth (It’s the truth),” the two leaned in at the same time, Bill Medley’s voice belting the final lyric of the bridge, “And I owe it all to you!”

The kiss set off a million fireworks. Just like it did the first time. They didn’t know if the cheers around them were intended for the two, but they didn’t stop the kiss to find out. Y/n’s hand covering Jake’s on her face, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before (never felt this way). Yes, I swear, it’s the truth (it’s the truth). And I owe it all to you.” Pulling away, Jake’s touch remained.

“Be my dance partner,” were his words, pushing through the ending chorus. ‘Be mine,’ “Forever.”

“‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door.”

Y/n brushed her lips against his. Uttering nothing more than a simple, “Yes.”

“‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you…”

…………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris @kmc1989

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Can we always be this close?

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: Viserys and Elna's wedding is finally here and so is their wedding night,.

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, P in V, hand job

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

To say Elna was nervous was an understatement, she was terrified, she was shaking from head to toes. The high septon had married her to the king less than an hour ago, the kiss they shared will forever be engraved in her mind, his lips were very soft and welcoming, the hand he rested on her cheek was gentle and careful, the only thing that snapped them away from each other was the cheering of the crowd.

Now she was sat be his side during the feast he threw in the honour of their marriage. She felt like she was awaiting a dragon to breath its fire on her as she waited the words she dreaded, "Time for the bedding ceremony", someone was going to utter those words loudly for the whole room to hear.

She was awaiting her privacy to be violated as the council men watched the king consummate their marriage. Her septa had informed her before hand what entailed into the bedding ceremony and what her duty to her lord husband was whoever he was. She married a king. she needed to give him heirs, one was simply not enough.

When Rhaenyra crossed her mind Elna's eyes snapped up from her hand to search for the princess, the heir to the iron throne. She was dancing with her friend Alicent Hightower, both girls had huge smiles on their faces as they circled one another clapping with the other dancers along to the beat of the music, at least someone was happy and relaxed. Elna was very happy with the match so far but that did not ease her nerves. She barely knew the king but from what she has seen he was a nice man.

"My love" Her heart dropped for a second from fright when a warm hand engulfed her own. Her eyes snapped to Viserys sat by her side with a slight frown on his face.

"Yes, my king" She took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. Viserys squeezed her hand comfortingly, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"You seem unhappy, are you alright?" Viserys' eyes held worry in them. Elna smiled softly, it was a relief that he cared somewhat for her, unlike many men she knew.

"I am very happy my king, simply nervous" She answered truthfully. Viserys pulled up her hand to place a small kiss to her knuckles. Elna's face heated up at his action. Her other hand unconsciously began tapping on the table as the minutes ticked by. Viserys reached over and took her other hand and also placed a kiss to her knuckles.

"There is nothing to be nervous about" Viserys said, trying to calm the poor girl down, he could only imagine the horrors they had told her. He remembered Aemma telling him how her septa told her to "Lay on her belly and take the pain like a big girl until he spilled inside of her", he was mortified.

"I will take good care of you, sweet wolf" Elna wanted to believe him, she truly did but the stories the ladies of the court shared with her held her back from doing so. She gave him a weak smile before her eyes roamed around the room again, watching.

Lords drank, saluting one another loudly as the literally smashed their cups together spilling the expensive wine Viserys had imported from Dorne for this occasion, laughing loudly. The lords of the north were the loudest and most wolfish, some of them even had gone up to dance some old folk song singing it in a corner bored of the music of the south.

Viserys sighed seeing that his words had barely even dented the nerves of his new wife. He let go of her shaking hands and moved to cup her face to face him instead of the room, "I care for you Elna, I will not harm you or hurt you" Viserys spoke low and calmly. Elna gulped nodding her head slightly. "I know" She whispered. Her eyes dropped ashamed for doubting him.

"You are my wife and you will be respected as such by everyone, beginning with me" Viserys promised. Elna simply could not stop herself from leaning over and kissing him on the lips. Viserys returned her kiss without hesitation or shame, it was their wedding after all.

"It seems our king is eager to begin the bedding ceremony" A man yelled over the music making everyone stop and turn to the couple. Elna's whole face turned red as she pulled away knowing she was the one to initiate the kiss.

"Lord Tyrell it seems you have drank too much wine" Rickon Stark hissed at the man. Elna's nerves returned at the sight of her father's presence, was he to witness the bedding ceremony as well? She hopes not.

"Let us escort them to their chambers for the bedding ceremony, my lords" A maester cut lord Tyrell from answering her father. The crowd erupted into cheers at the prospect.

In a blink of an eye Elna was hoisted on Lord Bolton's shoulder, a friend of her fathers. "Do not worry dear, I will protect you from these amateurs" He assured her much to her relief. He patted her calf to calm her down. Still some men were able to rip through her wedding dress, leaving her in a very thin and see through slip by the time she reached her new rooms, the King's chambers.

The women and men who had escorted her and Viserys into their rooms were soon escorted out of the room leaving five people int he room, Elna herself, King Viserys, Lord Hand Otto Hightower, Maester Runciter and Lord of coins Lyman Bessbury to witness their union.

Elna shifted uncomfortably seeing the four men around her all eye her body that was peeking through the shift she wore. Viserys did not look any better, he was left in simply his trousers. He cleared his throat shifting a little with an obvious bulge on the front of his trousers.

"Shall we?" He asked, holding out his hand for her. Elna took a deep breath before taking his hand and letting him guide her to the bed that was covered by a simple cloth. The three men around them chose to stand side by side on the right of the bed.

Elna climbed onto the bed and laid back on her behind like her septa had taught her. Viserys moved to lay by her side, leaning on his arm to look down at her face. Her skin was milky white, her hair of the darkest shades of brown, her eyes almost the same color as her hair.

"Beautiful" Viserys whispered, his hand moved to cup her cheek as his eyes roamed her face. He couldn't help but count the freckles that littered her cheeks, there was a total of seventeen on each cheek.

"Thank you" Elna blushed. He leaned down and claimed her lips with his, missing the taste of the strawberry tart she had earlier during the feast, the only she had during the feast, Viserys noticed. Viserys usually observed her, noticing small things about her, how she cannot meet ones eye when she lies, how she twiddles with her fingers when nervous and how she does not eat when scared.

"Relax, I will care for you, sweet wolf" Viserys whispered, in her ear. He moved down slowly to kiss down her neck. Elna did not imagine that such soft and feather like kisses would bring her some pleasure. A shiver ran through her body when one of his hands moved to her hip, pulling her closer to him.

She gulped when one of the men behind the curtain shifted reminding her of their presence. Viserys noticed the way her body tensed and looked up to find her looking in the direction of their audience, an uncomfortable look on her face.

He reached up to touch her cheek and moved her head to look down at him and said "Focus on me and only me". She nodded her head obediently.

Viserys' fingers ran down to pull her shift up and higher to show her milky legs. They were the softest thing he has ever touched, almost like a baby's skin. He buried his nose into her neck growing addicted to the smell of some oils she had lathered herself with, he has never smelled anything like this before. It was a flowery scent he has never encountered before, mayhems some plant from back home in the north if it were possible for anything to grow in the ice and snow.

"Viserys" Elna whimpered, as his fingers trailed up her leg and slowly crept between her thighs pushing them apart to gain access. Viserys hummed again her skin moving his mouth down to nibble at her collarbone earning a whine from her. Her hand unconsciously snapped up to grab at his shoulder length hair.

His finger pushed the linen up until it showed her lower region and rested on her belly. A gasp tore through Elna's throat when the cold air hit her wet core. Viserys did not waste anytime touching her. His finger ran up and down her slit memorising the perfect outline of her beautiful parts, he wanted to memorise every part of her. To his surprise she was wet already, he hoped it was for him.

"So wet, my queen" Viserys teased, moving away to look down at her as he pushed his finger inside of his mouth to taste her. Elna has never felt more embarrassed in her entire life before.

"Is that good?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. Viserys moved to grab at her mound again earning a whimper from her. Elna has never been touched down before, only when washing herself and she usually did it quickly.

"Very good, my love" Viserys praised. He moved to push one finger inside of her. Her body stiffened at the intrusion, he shushed her softly, pushing back some of her hair.

"Tell me if it hurts" Viserys whispered. Elna nodded her head but did not move to stop him. Viserys moved his finger inside of her trying to find that one rough spot.

"Gods" Her back arched when his fingertip touched a spot inside of her she did not even know existed. Viserys smirked in victory and eagerly claimed her lips in a wanton kiss.

He added a second finger eager to hear more of her sounds, she sounded so sweet, almost as sweet as honey. He scissored his fingers inside of her attempting to open her up for his cock, his cock was an average size he liked to believe so. Elna tried as hard as she could to stifle her moans, she did not want the others to hear her, she wanted her sounds to be only for her husband.

"Viserys please" She cried. Rolling her hips trying to match his pace needly. Viserys sped up his movement feeling her clenching around his fingers. His thumb moved to find her swollen pearl, swirling around it gently to bring her forth with pleasure.

"Oh my gods, Viserys" She cried, tears building up behind her eyelids. Viserys curiously slid down to taste her. The one taste of her earlier was nowhere near enough.

"What a-are you doing?" She asked, horrified. When she could no longer feel his warmth by her side she opened her eyes in search of him to find him face to face with her cunt.

He smirked at her and dived in without saying a word. Her head fell back at the feeling of his warm and wet muscle lick a strip up her slit. One of her hands fisted the sheet in anticipation and the other fisted his hair pushing him closer to her. She was very close, she has never felt like this before.

"Viserys!" She cried, back arching as his tongue toyed with her clit. His fingers arching into a come forth motion easily touching the rough spot inside of her.

Viserys' slid down to join his fingers gathering more of her arousal, shaking his head from side to side once his nose pressed onto her pearl. Elna's whole body shivered, she felt like she was crashing, his name whispered on her lips, unable to breathe for a second. Viserys pulled back not wanting to overwhelm her as she came back down from her orgasm.

"That was amazing" Elna panted. Viserys smiled as he shifted to sit between her parted legs.

"I sure hope it was" Viserys placed both of his hands on her thighs, kneeling between them, his thumbs unconsciously rubbed soothing circles on the skin.

"Will it hurt?" Elna asked, her eyes trailed down his full form to his aching cock. She liked Viserys, she liked the way he looked, for some reason she found a fuller man attractive, they pulled her in more.

"Only a pinch" Viserys pinched her thigh almost as if he wanted to give a preview. She nodded her approval for him to proceed.

She took a deep breath as he unlaced his trouser and pulled them down, stepping back momentarily to take them off before joining her again in bed. She gulped at the sight of him, she has never seen a cock before except in one text before and his looked bigger than the one in the big.

"Here, hold my hand" Viserys offered her his hand generously. She latched both of her hands onto his in fear. His free hand moved to fist his hard cock before guiding it to her slit, moving it up and down to gather her wetness, an attempt at making it easier for her.

Elna whimpered as he pushed his tip inside. Viserys squeezed her hand reminding her that he may be the reason for her pain but he was here for her. She squeezed his hand, digging her nails into his flesh as he pushed his cock further in until their pelvises were flush against one another.

"Gods, it hurts" Elna cried. Viserys leaned down still balls deep inside of her. He felt horrible the first time and he still felt horrible the second time.

"Shhh, I am here" he whispered. He littered her face with kisses trying to distract her from what was happening in her lower region. It took every ounce of self control in Viserys not to pound into her, she was warm and tight, so very inviting.

"It is getting better" She sighed, her body beginning to relax. Viserys took this as a sign to begin moving, slowly, not wanting to hurt her.

The pain slowly simmered away and the pleasure was back however it was almost like it was doubled. His cock reached areas in her body that his fingers could not. One of her hands remained holding his own which he moved by her head while her other one moved to his back, pulling him closer.

"Oh- yes- gods- this feels good" She whispered in his ears, still conscious of the men standing beside the bed. Viserys let out a sound in between a grunt and a growl. The feeling of his heavy belly belly pressing down onto hers made the pleasure rise and she was unable but to roll her hips up for more.

"So good" She moaned, bitting his ear for some soft of control. Her legs wrapped around him in a bear like hug and also for leverage to roll her hips to meet his thrusts.

"Are you close?" Viserys asked, placing kisses along her jawline. His thrusts grew more desperate. Elna moaned a loud "Yes" by accident but neither really noticed too caught up in their pleasure at this point.

Viserys reached down between their bodies in search of her clit, rolling it between his fingers once he found it. Elna's arousal assisting him with the movement as it grew.

"Viserys" Her eyes rolled back, her walls clenching around him in a vice like grip as she spasmed around his cock. Viserys following her soon after shooting his sperm deep inside of her cunt, hopefully straight into her womb for a healthy child.

"Shit" Viserys body crashed down on her almost suffocating her but she welcomed it. Her legs unlocked from around him but her arms wrapped around him, holding him close as they came down from their high, his cock softening inside of her.

He rolled off of her and laid on his back by her side both panting and sweating, looking nothing like they did earlier, no longer well kept. Viserys looked her up and down searching for any signs of pain and when noticing none his eyes paused at her breasts moving up and down with her breathing feeling a pang of disappointment he had not touched them, he was too consumed with the idea of getting rid of the three men intruding on his wedding night to remember the beautiful globes his wife adorned. However soon he will ravish her like she deserved.

"If you are satisfied, I advise you leave, my lords" Viserys called once he calmed his breathing. The three men shuffled uncomfortably out of their room with their heads hung low.

"Good riddance" Viserys rolled his eyes once he heard them close the door and mutter to one another. Soon after cheering could be heard from outside their room. Elna blushed at the thought that people were awaiting news of their marriage bed.

"Now where were we, sweet wolf?" Viserys said earning her attention again. He made love to her twice more before demanding that the maids bring them food to their rooms, Viserys did not forget that his wife had not eaten well during the feast, and if he were being honest neither did he.

[whiskeynwriting]

Carnal Conviction

Paz Vizsla x Female reader

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Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Alcohol consumption, sex work/stripping, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, hickies, voyeurism, f|f activities, female masturbation, oral (m receiving), unprotected vaginal sex 

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A/N: I enjoyed this way too much, WAY TOO MUCH!!! Thank you always to my amazing beta-reader @thesleepingmusicneek (she’s literally the BEST)

Verd - Soldier/Warrior. Pronounced (vaird)

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Paz Vizsla Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

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At this point, it’s comfortable for him. The surrounding setting has become a place he prefers, an establishment he can relax in. Above all other patrons, Paz and his brothers were favored. The owner respected the creed, and that respect also radiated to the employees. Whatever the Mandalorians needed, the owner gave. There was also the small expectation of protection that came with this type of treatment that the Mandalorians were more than happy to provide. But tonight, Paz didn’t have anything like that on his mind. 

When he first began to frequent this place, the lights and music were easily overbearing. It became difficult to see at times and this coupled with the loud sounds disoriented him. This, on top of the drinks being served, dulled his senses. But these drinks also helped to calm him, and arouse him. 

Instantly, he’s greeted by multiple women working this particular night. Their pretty smiles, the way they nibble their lips and reach for his pauldrons, it did wonders to him. How amazing it was to be so utterly wanted, and wanted by many. 

“Hey, Big Blue.” One woman greets, grinning up at him. 

Glancing down, his head rolls to the side a bit, hand coming up to gently tap her chin. She always was so flirtatious. 

“Elara.” He returns kindly, that deep voice shivering down her spine. She knows all too well the type of pleasure he can bring. 

“You sound tired,” She pouts, running a hand down the armor covering his chest. “Why don’t you come relax with me?”

Beneath his Beskar, he grins. “Let me get a drink.”

Her moue expression does nothing to stop him as he walks off, sure that she’ll return to her stage. When he’s ready, he’ll come find her. But for now, he wants to watch. 

This was something relatively new to him, these voyeuristic tendencies. It only began when he entered the club, and never occurred outside of it. The dancers here didn’t just strip, they were usually active with each other, too. Seeing two women kiss, touch each other, it made his body run wild. And within the club’s private rooms, he’s even had women touch themselves in front of him. That was something incredibly new for him. He never was one to have sex with multiple women at once; when he was ready to take someone back to a room, it’d always be just one. But on the stage? He loved watching those women interact with each other. 

Free of payment, as usual, Paz grabs his choice drink before walking toward the area where the women perform. Usually, he’ll drink it in private before engaging with one of the girls. With a short grunt, he takes a seat, spreading his legs and leaning back against the comfortable chair. 

Tonight, he can identify each woman by name. Helia and Vega, two dancers who frequently touched each other, Nova, with her long brown hair and curvy body, Trina’s gorgeous red hair and tight body. And then there were his favorites, girls he’s taken in private rooms many times. Venus, Cybele, and of course, Elara. It’s been years since a new girl has appeared, but it’s not like he minds.

He can feel his heartbeat rise as he watches with intent, Nova eyeing him as she dances. Sliding down the pole, she spreads her legs for him, trailing a hand down her thigh. Visibly, his head tilts in her direction, breaths becoming deep as he eyes the dainty piece of fabric keeping her modesty. It’s been quite some time since he pulled her aside, maybe she’ll be the one for him tonight. But this thought is fleeting, his attention now turning to the back curtains. Venus appears from behind the shades, grinning brightly with a certain excitement jumping through her veins. And then, she’s turning back around, reaching through the drapes of fabric to pull on a small pair of hands. 

And then, you.

Paz has never seen you before. 

Immediately, he’s intrigued, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. You look heavenly, so feminine and sweet. He’s already imagining your taste to be just as pleasant. The way your body wears your little costume, it’s taking his fucking breath away. The top holding your breasts together crosses over your chest, looping up around your neck. And leading his eyes down the path to your cleavage is a thin, silver chain long enough to touch your ribs. Thin fabric is looped around your hips, holding up a longer cloth that drapes between your legs. A teasing piece of fabric, incredibly thin, but just enough to hide your sex. Two silver chains also hang around your attractive waist, twinkling beneath the stage’s many lights as you sway. 

Paz has yet to see a woman in this space wear something like this, and he’s sure no one would wear it as well as you; nobody here has your body type, and he’s already dying for a taste of it. The pieces cradling your plump breasts and what he’s sure to be heaven between your legs, are almost like petals to him. Petals covering the true beauty of the newest and brightest flower. One he’s ready to pluck from the garden. 

In what appears to be a comforting gesture, Venus brings you in, cupping your face as she delivers a graceful kiss. Instantly, Paz feels himself fully harden, adjusting his position as he takes in a heavy breath. He watches as you smile against her lips, hands lifting to her upper chest, sliding down along her breasts. As you trail down her body, Paz witnesses you squeeze her chest, and outwardly groans from it. And when your hands land on her hips, curling around to cup her ass, he all but loses it. 

“Ready for me?” 

Turning, he’s forced out of his sultry haze as he now faces Elara once again. 

“Who is that?” He asks, avoiding her question. 

Pointing in your direction, Elara follows his hand, sighing dramatically as she rolls her eyes. Hands on her hips, she stares at him. “Of course, you want the new girl.”

“How could I not?” Easily, his visor returns to you. “Where did you find her?”

Watching the way you kiss Venus, your tongue sliding out as she leads you toward the center of the stage, Elara releases another breath. “Coruscant.”

“There’s no way you found her on Coruscant.” Paz scoffs, eyes unwavering.

“We did!” She claims, continuing with, “But she’s originally from Naboo.”

“There we go.” Paz responds smugly. “That makes much more sense.” 

“So… you want her?”

“Fuck yes.” His response is instant, voice full of lust and anticipation. But then, his tone becomes stern, authoritative and demanding. “Bring her to me.”

For as demanding and cocky as he was, the girls were surprisingly taken with Paz. Maybe it had something to do with his height, his large body, his bulging muscles, his heroic armor. 

As you reach for the nearest poll, Elara hops up onto the stage. While approaching you, she watches as you slide onto it with ease, your lean muscles flexing as you move over the smooth, tall metal. And beneath his Beskar cover, Paz is wetting his lips at the sight of it, the sight of you. The way you dance is elegant, seductive, swaying your hips to each note swirling through the club’s current song. 

When the older woman walks up to you, she easily grabs your attention. Leaning in with a smirk, she whispers into your ear. And then, your eyes are flickering over to him, going wide before a bashful smile takes over your pretty features. And then, Paz sees you blush. Oh maker, he’s going to wreck you. 

Elara speaks to you again, her mouth moving though Paz can hear none of her words. Turning back in her direction, your smile doesn’t leave, now nodding eagerly. There it is, he has you.

Observing you from a distance, Paz soon sees you close that gap. Slowly, you make your way down the stage steps, strutting languidly in his direction. And as you make your way over, he eyes every inch of you, taking his time roaming your body. He can’t wait to feel you pressed up against him, grinding over his lap, your pretty face just inches from him. 

“Hi,” Your demure nature only serves to heighten his want for you. “The girls say you’re interested in me.” 

“Very much so.” Exhaling the words, he leans back in his chair, arms resting up on either side of him. 

An air of confidence just radiates from him, his large stature quite intimidating. But not daunting. And as you move closer to him, the excitement of it all continues to heighten. Standing between his spread legs, you lean in, hands resting on his pauldrons as you begin to situate yourself over him. 

“I’ve never had a Mandalorian before.” And that admission sends him. 

“I’ve never had you before.” He easily returns, voice airy and raspy. 

While climbing onto his lap, Paz restrains himself from moving, allowing you to get comfortable on him. Your knees bend, resting on either side of his hips as you situate yourself, hands sliding down to his chest once you’re settled. 

“Guess we’ll both have a first tonight.” 

Mere inches away, your chest now rests before him, taunting him. Your thighs tighten on either side of him, now lifting yourself to grind over his crotch. The action is slow and soft, gentle, hips swaying in graceful circles while your pretty face holds that enticing grin. 

“Can I have your name?” Your voice is sweet as you say it, hands rising to either side of his helmet. 

In the blink of an eye, this man’s hands are on your own, quickly dropping his drink onto the side table. Paz witnesses your movement pause, your face full of caution. Amidst his bruising grip, the Mandlorian’s low voice rumbles, “The helmet stays on.” 

At this, he expects you to run, to curl in on yourself and completely regret the action. It’s happened with the other women here, they all reacted that way when it first happened, before they got… used to him. And it’s not that he meant to scare you, it was just his natural reflex.

To Paz’s utter shock, you smirk, leaning in to kiss the space you’re sure his lips are beneath his outer, metal skin. And it fucking melts him. At this very moment, he knows all you want to do is please him. With his chest tightening, his fingers do the opposite, loosening their hold on your much smaller wrists. 

“So,” Returning to your seated position, you wiggle your hips over him, grinding your bare clit down onto his codpiece. “Your name?”

He’s genuinely stunned by your casual response, but takes it in stride, nonetheless. For a beat, he thinks on this name business. No one here knows his name, not the girls, not the owner, no one. And honestly, nobody’s ever cared to ask. Mando was tossed around to pretty much every Mandalorian to ever walk a planet’s surface. 

“Verd.” He finally decides on, wanting to give you an actual name. Although, the Mando’a word isn’t exactly a name, more of a title. But it’ll do for this scenario. 

“Verd.” Repeating the word only prompts your grin to grow, hips rolling over his. “I like it.” 

When you repeat the word, something is set alight within him. Hearing you speak Mando’a makes his pulse quicken, his throat running dry while he watches you dance. And suddenly, he feels your hands on his own, guiding them toward your angelic body. Even though his gloves are rough and worn, in desperate need of conditioning, you place them on your hips. Inside, Paz’s heart pounds against his ribs; he wants to explore you further.

“Do you want to touch me?” 

“Will you let me?” He questions in response, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

“Yes.”

As soon as you say it, his hands are on your ass, fingers pushing aside the cloth to grab at your bare skin. It makes you gasp, feeling him haul you forward, shoving you back and forth over his lap. Appearing strong wasn’t any type of facade with him; Paz’s muscles were clearly capable of moving you in whatever way he wanted. And you move with him, leveraging yourself on his shoulders while rubbing your chest against his. Your breasts press against the smooth firmness of his armor, head dropping down to the cowl around his neck. 

“I want to see you…” Breathily, you beg for him. “Some of you… can I?”

Paz can feel your fingers fumbling around the cloth, slow and careful as you wait for his answer. Disrespecting someone’s religion or creed was never a trait you harbored. 

Swallowed thickly, he decides yes. “Yes, you can.”

Once he gives you permission, you find a loose piece of fabric, pulling it down to expose his skin. Leaning in, you press your lips to him, tongue poking out to drag a simple, sultry lick. And the way he groans makes you feel like you’re on fire, his head tilting back when you bite into him.

“Mm… pretty thing.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Curling into him with a bashful grin, you giggle, the sound flowing through him. 

“Gorgeous.” He grunts, flattening his feet on the ground as he grinds up into you. Although, he can’t feel much through his codpiece. He’s going to need a room with you. “Perfect body…” 

Leaning upright again, you sigh, taking both of his hands away from your ass and lifting them up to your chest. Lazily, his head lolls to the side, chestplate rising and falling with vigor as you guide him to cup your breasts. 

“Fuck…” Squeezing them with a groan, his helmet moves side to side. “Tell me what you like.”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

Nibbling on your lip, you nod. “Yeah… big, tall…” And then you’re reaching for his arm, hand sliding down his bicep. “Strong.” 

With a disbelieved scoff, Paz questions, “When the hell did you get here, huh? How the fuck did I miss you?”

“You haven’t missed anything; it’s my first night.” 

Again, that familiar shiver down his spine. It prompts him to further massage your chest, head tilted up as he admires you.

“Is this your drink?”

Turning to the side, he eyes his still-full glass. “Yes.”

“Not too thirsty?” 

This small observation provokes a certain thought in his mind. Reaching for it, he hums thoughtfully, lifting it to your lips. “Drink it.”

And you do so without hesitation.

While Paz holds the drink up to your mouth, his free hand continues to touch your glorious chest, trailing down the center of it and through your cleavage. 

“Yes…” Listening so well already. 

“Maybe I can return the favor sometime.” Comes your suggestive response, watching as he sets the glass down once again.

“Not likely, sarad’ika.” He replies, easily dismissing your comment. (Little flower)

“Hm… I like the way you speak.” 

But then, all too abruptly, you’re standing. Rising from his lap, you take one last look at him. 

“Maybe I can hear it again sometime.” 

*

*

*

The way you left Paz had him wanting for more, and that’s exactly what you were going for. Throughout the night, you watch as the other dancers approach him, wanting to rub themselves over his armor and sit on his large lap, not dissimilar in the way you moved with him. To your surprise, though, he was having none of that. He spent his time watching you.

After you left him, he approached the bar once again. Ordering another glass of his favorite liquor, he then went to a private hall to down it. Here, he eyed the back rooms, listening to the gentle moans already flowing from the intimate spaces. He thought about what you’d do in those rooms, what he could do to you. He’d kill to see you naked, watch your tiny little fingers slither down to your sex, parting your lips for him, rubbing yourself for him. He imagines you’d spread your legs wide before coming to sit on his lap, riding his cock until he painted your insides white, staining you with his remnants. 

He could feel it in his veins. He needed to have you, and he needed to have you tonight.

Returning to the center hall, his eyes immediately find you. Multiple men watch as you dance, some of them his own brothers, too. You’re sliding down one of the poles, leaning back against it as you squat and spread your legs. And then, one of your hands is sliding down through your hair, over your shoulder, and onto your breasts. 

Taking his seat, your warrior watches as another girl brings you to her lips. Holding your cheeks, she kisses you, your hands lifting to touch her chest. He can see the way your thumbs stroke her barely covered nipples, the way you prop up your thigh between her legs. And when your tongue lays out, he finds himself wishing for a kiss. He’d love to feel your lips, your tongue, and on any part of him. Maybe tonight, you’ll be gracious. 

All at once, you’re making him feel special, walking in his direction with your eyes on that intimidatingly dark visor. Staring into his eyes, into his goddamn soul, you squat down, thighs parted as your hand lowers to rub yourself. 

Did she read my fucking mind?

Promptly, he stands, turning to find the owner. With his sudden movement, you’re worried you did something wrong. It dulls the excitement of the night for you, watching him strut off down the hall again. 

But once he’s in the office, he’s dropping a sack of Republic credits onto the desk. 

“I want her.”

“Who?”

“Your newest girl.” Paz presents with confidence. 

“You don’t have to -”

“I want to pay for her.” He insists, knowing you deserve it. “I’ll be in room six.” A lucky number of his. 

“How quick?” The owner calls out after him, listening to Paz’s gruff, “Quick.” 

Again, Elara is tasked with pulling you aside. And your internal excitement is once again set ablaze. Knowing you didn’t scare him off makes your smile glow, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. And now, he wants a private room with you? Maker, you can’t get to that room quick enough.

“He’s already there.”

“In room six.” She smirks, hands finding her hips. “What do you think?”

“Are you kidding?” Baffled she’d even ask, you scoff. “Of course I’m going!”

“He’ll be quite a treat.” Your coworker offers a knowing look, with only a pinch of jealousy. “Have fun.” 

“Wait,” Reaching out for her arm, your shyness appears once again. “What, um, what is he like?”

Instantly, her smile blossoms. “Demanding, and rough.”

A wave of anticipation rushes through your limbs, tongue poking out to timidly lick your lower lip.

“And he likes when you show off a bit.”

With that, she’s leaving, returning to her place on stage to satisfy the other men in the crowd. You wonder what that means, showing off, but you’re sure to find out. The only place you can go to now, is room number six.

There is power in this, you do have a choice. You know exactly what goes on in those rooms, and if you didn't want that, you’re more than allowed to reject him. The owner made sure of this; the safety and comfortability of his employees were among his top priorities. But honestly, you’d be a fool to reject this. To not enter this room, to not indulge carelessly in this man… would be a genuine waste. 

The club’s rhythmic sounds begin to fade as you walk throughout the establishment, making your way to the back hall. The curtain covering room six’s opening has been pushed to the side, its warm yellow hue pooling into the dark corridor. He’s expecting you. And with each step, you can feel your excitement, can feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins, your ears ringing with a wild heartbeat. You’re meeting with a man you met mere hours ago, and you’re going to let him take you. 

“Hi again,” With a cheeky grin, you tilt your head, eyeing the large, blue man.

That visor of his noticeably tips, analyzing your stance. The way your hips sway could convey nervousness, or excitement. And he chooses the latter, that grin of yours exposing your playfulness. 

“Will you join me?” 

The tips of your teeth find the thin skin of your lip, nodding as you step in. But only once or twice, just enough to be inside. Your timid nature entices him, your innocence. 

Standing, this bulk of a man makes his way over to you. Reaching out, the warrior’s gaze holds your own as he closes the curtain, sealing off the room. And his towering form, that stoic expression, steals every word from your lips. It seems all you can do is stand beside him, watching his every advance. 

With gentle motions, Paz undoes and removes his codpiece, revealing to you the black underclothes that lie beneath. The immediate movement of your eyes, and the quick expression you give, flatter him. Beneath the metal mask, he proudly grins, a single hand dropping to grip the tent you’ve given him. But before you can even truly admire him, he’s turning, walking back to the wide couch so he can take his seat once again.

“Come.” He then commands, voice soft but stern. Patting his thigh, he completes his request with, “Show me what you can do.”

His words offer encouragement, power, traits you snatch from the air as you approach him with interest. And once you’re close enough, his dominant hand reaches out to you, finding the delicate slope of your waist. But you reject this small advance, turning in his grasp. With your back facing him, you sit, sliding your backside along his lap. 

All too easily, those covered eyes watch your hands. Slender fingers begin to undo the top tied around your neck, exposing your breasts once it falls. With a huff of arousal, he leans forward, pressing his armored chest to your back while reaching for your breasts. Warm, smooth metal presses to your cheek as he fists your tits in both hands, visor peering over your shoulder to gawk at them. And then he releases a groan, a sound that quickly turns into a growl.

Rough, just like Elara said.

A gasp escapes you when you’re pulled backwards, this warrior now resting back against the couch. Both of those meaty arms stay wrapped around you, gloved fingers plucking at your perked buds. And then, one is leaving, lowering to loop behind your knee so he can pull your leg up.

“Show me.” He demands breathily, voice already ragged. “Show me how you like to be touched.” Slinking your legs over his knees, he parts them wider, only a single piece of cloth hiding your most sacred parts. 

“I like how you’re touching me.” Smirking devilishly, your eyes close, body squirming on his lap as he rubs your chest. But then, his most dominant hand is grabbing your wrist and yanking it down between your legs.

“I said show me.”

Demanding.

“Verd…” And for a moment, he’s confused. That is, until he remembers the name he’d given you.

“Ner verd.” Paz corrects, “Say it that way.”

Without question, you do, wanting to satisfy him. “Ner verd…” (My warrior…) 

And for some reason, the fact that you don’t even know what you’re saying excites him that much more.

Leaning over your shoulder, he watches with hunger as you pull aside the last remaining piece of fabric. Though, he can’t see as much as he’d like at this angle; in the past, he’d had women sit across from him on this couch. Paz would have them spread their legs, exposing themselves to him while demanding they get themselves off for his entertainment. And when they were done, he’d run a hand down their sex, fingers playing with their overstimulated lips. Later, in the privacy of his own home, he’d taste it. And regardless of your current position, he knows he’ll do the same with you. 

“That’s it…” Now, he approves, watching two little fingers tap against your clit. “Beautiful, sarad’ika.” (Little flower)

With a small, confident chuckle, you continue, the two of you watching as you pleasure yourself. Both of Paz’s hands stay on your chest while you do it, covered eyes witnessing the way you rub your reddened bud, the way your fingers play with your lips. 

“You’re a teasing thing, aren’t you?” He hums, helmet rubbing against you softly. Giving you a single nod, he then suggests, “Tap it again… I love to see you twitch.”

On command, you do as he says, chest rising and falling beneath his hands. And the blue warrior groans when he sees it, this ginormous man shifting beneath you. 

“Yes,” Paz huffs harshly in your ear, adrenaline and arousal mixing within his body. “You listen perfectly.”

“Baby…” It comes out as a whine, and it drives him wild inside. 

“Pretty thing,” He hums contemplatively. “Pretty noises.”

“Touch me,” Unexpectedly, you begin to beg, turning your face to look at him. It’s as if the anticipation building inside your chest has burst, body unable to harbor any remnants. “Please.”

“Oh…” Regardless of whether or not you’re aware, Paz holds your gaze, lowering a hand from where he’d been massaging your breast. “Like this, mesh’la?” He inquires, entirely sarcastic as he knows this is the spot, he knows this is just what you like. (Beautiful)

“Yes,” Arching back against him, your hips thrust up into his touch. While reaching for his forearm, he begins to rub you faster, listening to the soft squelch your center begins to emit. “Yes - yes.”

Writhing in his arms like a fish from the sea, you’re surrounded by nothing but blue, fiercely entrancing blue. Every sound you make goes straight through him, radiating into his chest, his pelvis, the throbbing shaft between his legs. Collectively, your actions brew a sense of pride in his belly, knowing he’s brought this out of you. Like a seductive siren, you’re singing a song, reaching out to consume him entirely. 

“Maker, you moan like such a fucking whore.” Spitting the words through gritted teeth, he grunts behind you, the tips of his fingers rubbing through your entrance. The hand still on your chest, grabs at you firmly, metal face pressing against your flesh. Oh, how desperate he is for it, for touch. You can see it so clearly, and you wish he’d let you give it to him. 

“Ner verd…” Gloved fingers brush over the peak of your breast, caressing the pebbled flesh. “Let me touch you, please.” (My warrior…)

“Come here,” Paz complies, finding a new weak spot with this name.

Strong hands gravitate to your hips, guiding you up from his lap. Moving with his momentum, you turn, completely naked for him. And to his utter shock, he pauses, breath caught in his throat. While his face is hidden, you can practically feel his amazement, one hand sliding up to caress your stomach. 

“Just like that,” He coos quietly, admiring your advancement in the absence of his own. “Get on top of me.”

Settling over his broad thighs, your hands find his helmet, bringing him in. Unknowingly, you offer an incredibly intimate sentiment; you touch your forehead to his. It’s as close to a kiss as Paz is going to get, as close as he’s ever come to it. 

“Please…” Dominant hand grazing his metal chest, it follows a line down to his pelvis. And when you settle over his lap, finally palming the stiffness of him, his hold on you tightens.

Harshly, thick fingers dig into your skin, his hips rocking up into your hand while releasing a soft moan. Something tingles inside your belly, listening to this gentle sound. Not a grunt or harsh groan, but a sweet release of breath.

“Hm…” Lips quirking into a grin, you express to him, “I want it.”

With bated breath, you wait for him, now feeling a particular wetness seep through beneath your hand. The moment stills, seconds now confused with centuries. Though, it’s not agonizing, this wait; it’s thrilling. 

The pads of his covered digits then rub circles along your skin, his chest dipping with a breath as he finally says, “Then take it.”

Nimble movements unzip his covering, length hot and stiff against the knuckles of your hand. Without losing his gaze, your fingers move to his base, slowly sliding around his girth and feeling the coarse hair littering his skin. Paz’s own hands move, too, still on your hips as he helps lift you above him. Resting up on your knees, the two of you glance down, eyeing the treats you’ve each been given. 

Helmet tilting up, Paz grins upon seeing your amazed expression. You’ve never seen a man like this, so veiny and thick, tip bulging and prominently crimson. The hairs around his shaft and base are damp, from either sweat or prespend but truthfully, you’re hoping for a mixture of them. You can practically smell it, him, his sweat and natural musk taking over your senses. And your mouth waters from it, wishing desperately to crawl down his body so you can put your lips on him. 

“Sarad’ika,” Paz calls gently, finger prodding beneath your chin and tilting it up toward him. “Don’t make me wait.” (Little flower)

“Can I…” Trailing off, your gaze lowers again. Paz sees the way you lick your lower lip, the way your eyes widen from the sight of him.

With a chuckle, he encourages you. “Be my guest.”

Once he allows it, you scramble down from his lap, falling to your knees while settling between his. Mesmerizing is the look in your eyes, eager is the movement of your lips. Leaning in, you’re immediately licking him, tongue flattening as it drags up the underside of his cock. It surprises him, just how quick you are with it, a startled gasp easily spilling from his lips. And while your mouth begins to pleasure him, your hand pumps the rest of his leaking length. 

“Perfect…”

Pulling back, your hand slides up, thickest digit thumbing over his slit. It forces a jolt of pleasure through him, a single hand coming down to grab the back of your head. The other, however, falls to his base. 

“You like this?” He asks lowly, stroking himself. And when you nod, curiosity overtakes him again. “What about this?”

Smacking his dick against your mouth, he watches you moan. Those gorgeous eyes of yours flutter closed, lips parting as  he continues. 

“I like it…” Grumbling, the timbre of his voice prompts a small wave of pleasure to rush through your hips. “Just like that, smacking it against your pretty doll face.”

Truthfully, you’d stay like this as long as he asked. On your knees between his spread legs, naked body on display while he tapped his dick against your face. Some taps are harder than others, and then there were softer hits, ones that allowed him to smear his precum over your lips. 

“Take it.” Applying pressure to the back of your head, he guides you onto him once again. “Ngh, ri-right there, right down your throat.”

The ridges of your tastebuds can feel every inch of him, every vein that throbs beneath the weight of your tongue. And now, he feels himself fully thicken within the hot cavern of your mouth. But you can’t take the entirety of him; all around, he was more than sizable, his width stretching your lips to your limits. Already your jaw aches, and he hasn’t even started thrusting yet. Simply, he holds you there, keeps you pressed as far down as you’re willing to go. As the seconds pass, you can hear him grumble, hand petting lovingly at your hair. Violently, he throbs against the hot suction of your mouth, his tip entering your throat. Every pulse that runs through his erection is powerful, the pound against your mouth prompting a moan from the depths of your chest.

“You’re drooling.” He notes casually, head cocking to the side.

Just barely, you’re able to look up at him, tears already dripping from the corners of your eyes. It’s a wonderful sight, especially when you reach up to stroke the remaining length. Every bit of skin he shows has been touched, kissed and licked and sucked on until he just couldn't take it. And that’s exactly how he likes it.

The tiny fist you wrap around the base of his dick makes him grin, continuing to stroke your hair as he says, “You’re so pretty like this.”

For how rough he could be, this man also seemed to have a sweet side. Maybe he was like that with everyone, or maybe he was just like that with you.

Streaks of mascara run over your cheeks, lipstick smeared from the spit dripping down your chin. The makeup you’d worked so hard on, ruined. All from him, and it’s been done in his perfect vision. Just how he’d pictured you - on your knees, crying for him, mouth stuffed to the brim. 

“Pretty little mess.” And with the way he says it, you’d think it was an insult.

The hand once petting your hair now grips it at the crown, shoving his hips up toward your mouth. Forcefully, you gag, the motion completely unexpected. But you take him as best you can, the hand around his cock now joining the other atop his thigh. It’s done to brace yourself, but he isn’t having any of that.

“No,” Paz growls, shoving your hands away. “Keep your hands down, keep them off of me.” 

Obediently, you lower them both, resting loosely behind your back. And now that your hands are gone, both of his find the back of your head, repeatedly forcing you down onto him. Every thrust is accompanied with a harsh grunt, cock stiff and hot as it repeatedly punches into your mouth. His tip, red and dripping, strikes the back of your throat with every rut, every erratic and animalistic movement. 

There’s nothing else for him, not in this moment. Right now, every bit of his attention is given to you, to your body and mind and everything you can bring him, everything he can bring you. Since the moment he laid eyes on your mesmerizing form, he knew he’d have you. One way or another, he was going to make you his; add you to his collection of girls. And this is just how he pictured it, even better, really. You’d already touched yourself for him, and so willingly dropped to your knees, too. He can’t remember the last time a whore sucked him off. Usually, sex was just sex; even here. Sure, he’d have his fun, but oral was never part of the deal. After a little bit of teasing, every woman here immediately got to business. But not you, and he’s liking that. You’re taking your time to satisfy him.

“Ugh,” With a wet gasp, you pull away, but only once he’s allowed it.

Every breath is ragged and hoarse and Paz’s are nearly just as rough. Allowing you this reprieve, he expects you to take it. But you’re full of surprises tonight, almost immediately diving right back in.

“Sh…” He says to you softly, gloved hand grabbing your jawline and chin. And when you look up at him, your expression is filled with such a sweetly sickening innocence. “Up.”

Climbing up his thick thighs, you find yourself wanting to meet his mouth. As if he’s thinking the same thought, his fingers move across your chin, sliding upward a bit. Using his thumb, he parts your lips, watching as you grin. With a single, simple shake of his head, he murmurs, “What I wouldn’t give to taste these lips…”

“Would you give your creed?” Teasingly, you return, mere inches from his metal skin.

“Not a goddamn chance.”

And with that, he’s reaching down and hauling you up and onto his lap. Your giggle is mixed with a tasteful gasp, hands reaching for those broad shoulders once again. Although you can’t kiss him, you can kiss his helmet, which you find comfort in doing. Pressing your lips to his metal cheek, you sigh blissfully against him. Somehow, it brings you closer to him.

Both of your warrior’s hands find the wonderful expanse of your backside, fisting it with a satisfied hum. Rocking you forward, he’s successful in brushing your smooth cunt against his shaft, another rapturous noise coming from him. 

“Are you ready for me, hm?” It doesn't take long before you’re moving of your own volition, grinding against his tip and rubbing yourself all the way down his length. 

“Mhm,” Forehead rubbing against the side of his helmet, you sigh, something similar to a tiny whine. 

Pulling you forward onto his chest, he grunts, lifting you enough to slide his tip against your entrance. Using your hold on him as balance, you take the lead, reaching down to angle him as he begins to slide in. Easily, Paz sinks inside, every single inch slowly but surely becoming enveloping by your welcoming walls. It’s almost unfair, the expectation of this. He’s monstrously thick and pounding against your thin, sensitive skin.

“Oh,”

“Yes.”

Dragging hotly against your inner walls, he’s already stretching you to tears halfway in. Painted fingernails dig into the cowl covering his skin, wishing to touch him, to kiss and mark him. You’re certain if you pushed it away, there’d already be beautiful discolorations from your lips. 

“Don’t worry, ner sarad’ika…” Paz grumbles, his hands moving over the curve of your waist. One finds purchase on your hips, while the other rises to the back of your head. With gentle force, he pulls you into him, feeling your arms loop entirely around his neck. “We’ll make it fit.” (My little flower)

“Verd,” Whimpering, your arms shake as he lowers you even more. “Ner verd.” (Warrior, my warrior)

“There you go,” Your correction forces a sense of pride to grow within his chest. “So good…”

“Fu-uck,” The cry is broken and breathy as it spills from your lips, sitting firmly on his lap.

He’s entirely inside, your ass resting against his scrotum. Even through his Beskar, he can feel the heavy rise and fall of your chest, can feel the shift of your thighs as you spread even wider to accommodate him. But then, you’re wincing, something that quickly concerns him.

“What?” Rubbing your back, he sighs, feeling your walls clench hotly around him. “Tell me.”

“Mm,” Timidly, you whimper, one hand dropping to press against one of his tassets. 

“Oh,” He realizes, hands dropping down to remove the armor that must be pinching at your sweet skin. And once the tops of his thighs are uncovered, you shimmy against him, rubbing over the black fabric still covering his bulky body. 

Once he’s set the plates aside, his hands run up and down your arms. “There…” He says comfortingly, hips rocking up into you. “Keep going, keep going.”

Shifting your hips, you gather yourself enough to sway against him. With both palms pressing against his cuirass, you steady your breaths in order to find a rhythm. And quickly, you do, alongside your warrior’s own eager movements. It brews inside him, the need to have you, to stretch you out and fuck you in a way you’ll remember; mold your insides to him, steal your breath and captivate your complete attention.

“That’s it, sweet little whore.”

“Baby,” His words do something ungodly to you, mixing with every ounce of exciting sin. 

“Look so fucking good,” His words are breathy, body moving with yours quite smoothly. “Impaled on me.”

“Yes, yes.”

The man beneath you is big enough to lift you entirely before dropping you right back down, cockhead hitting the deepest parts of your sex. His ridges rub along your insides in the most delightful way, pressing up against the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips sway. 

“Can, can I, please…” Pawing at the covering around his neck, Paz becomes impatient, reaching up to rip it off completely. 

With a breath of relief, he continues, hand returning to your ass with a harsh spank just as you move to his neck. Your body shakes with his force, the motion repeated as soon as your lips attach to his neck. You’re bouncing down on him, ass slapping against his clothed thighs. 

“Fuck,” Growling, he almost can’t keep himself from doing it again, slapping your cheeks just to watch and feel them jiggle. “Fuck yourself onto me, just like that.”

His voice is deep and demanding, yet sincere and encouraging. Adrenaline rushes through your body every time you hear him speak, that slightly muffled and almost staticy voice doing wonders to your aroused state of being. 

“Ner verd,” Digging your teeth into his skin prompts another quick spank, one that sends a shrill giggle straight from your chest. “Yes.”

The slightly muted sound of your naked thighs against his covered legs begins to reverberate through the room, skin against skin echoing when you bring yourself down to his pelvis. He seems to enjoy it when you mark him, sucking on his skin with a fierce sense of determination. And when you’ve deemed one spot complete, you lick it sweetly. More than you can even fathom, it satisfies him.

“Sweet thing,” The smile in his tone is evident. “My new favorite girl.”

Wrapping both arms around you, their strength prevents you from any more movement. Instead, he pulls you onto him, pistoning his hips up against your sex. The pure power and force behind his working muscles leaves you fighting for breath. And alongside his flattering words, you find yourself smitten with him. 

The overwhelming sensation of him claiming your weeping cunt makes you see stars, makes you cling to him like you’d die if you didn’t. His panting breaths even fan out beneath his bulky mask, brushing over your skin and giving you a subtle taste of him. Floating through your head is the thought of his tongue, how he’d taste if you ran your own across it; how would he kiss you? How would his lips feel? How would they move?

“I want to claim you.” Voice deep and rumbling, he goes on to say, “Fill you to the brim with nothing but my seed.”

“I want that,” Nodding, you cling to him, his body firm and strong and Maker, how did you get him? “I want it.”

“Fill this sweet cunt, plug it with my cum.” It’s almost like he’s rambling, talking himself up to the point of an earth-shattering orgasm. “Say it to me.”

“Hm?”

“Th - my name. Say my name.” Amidst his excitement, his clouded mind, he’d almost forgotten. 

“Ner verd.” And the way you say it makes his entire existence float away with something akin to yearning, longing. (My warrior)

Inside, you feel fuzzy, needy and tingling with overwhelming bliss. The way he fucks up into you is sloppy, desperate to cum inside the warmth you’ve given him. You feel like a toy, nothing but entertainment for him. And you’re more than fine with satisfying that expectation. 

Driving his hips upward, something in him seems to break. Choking on his own breaths, he grunts, seeking out your wet warmth as he releases inside. 

“Soft fucking insides, so warm and welcoming - fuck. I’m gonna cum in it,” Squeezing you in his arms, his hips stutter, jerking against your core. “I’m gonna cum inside…”

“Y-Yes,” Dragging your nails down his neck, you witness the evidence of your own pleasure painting his skin red. 

The force of his high brings on your own, rutting over his lap as you try desperately to rub your clit onto him. It brushes over his pelvis, over the coarse hairs littering his base as you shake in each other’s arms, wanton moans floating freely through the room and out into the hall. Rope after rope fills your channel, the white liquid flooding your most sensitive space. And it milks him for every drop, clenching around his girth as your own high wrings every bit of pleasure from your limbs. Shivering through your body, he holds you through the overwhelming pleasure of it, listening to your feminine moans and reveling in the fact that he’s caused them. 

One hand then drops to your backside, squeezing you kindly once again. Giving you an easy tap, he clears his throat, sighing into relaxation. It’s obvious when he calms, body slumping slightly into his seat. Resting back against the cushions, he urges you to lay on his chest, smiling to himself when you do. It’s always comforted him, this brief sense of intimacy after sex. 

His next words are genuine, a promise he intends to keep. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

[annihilatius]

Okay so months ago I made a post asking if anyone would want to see a thing I did where I assigned Pokemon to random Bioshock characters, and even tho a lot of y'all said yes I never followed up on it because that was only a little while before I fell out of Bioshock so I just tried to pretend it didn't exist... UNTIL NOW!!!

A lot of these don't go any deeper than, at least in terms of the Pokemons design and psychical body language (personality), "Because I Just Think It Fits Them." There is some clever stuff here but none of it is super deep.. and as you all know I'm no expert on Bioshock 2 and some other characters like Yi Suchong so my perception of what I think they're like may be flawed, so sorry if it's disappointing in that aspect

I don't want to explain my exact thought process for every single one of these because it'd be exhausting and it'd ruin a lot of the subtlety but I will explain more of the niche references or things that make no sense at first glance, like things you would only understand if you read the Pokemon in questions Pokedex entries, because I'm aware most of you aren't complete nerds like me (btw if you don't know, "ace" in Pokemon terms means the head and/or strongest Pokemon in a trainers team, you're gonna see that word a lot)

@splicedm0th @kluskinoodles @yuro-skell @bunnie-killer-laser-beam @fancysilverfox just tagging everyone who interacted with the original post so they can see it (sorry if I forgot someone this is just who I remember)

Kingambit is to me the PERFECT Pokemon for Andrew Ryan like there isn't a single one that fits better. The way these are set up aren't necessarily saying which order which Pokemon is sent out, ace Pokemon most often go last or second to last, but Kingambit specifically goes last in Andrew's team because I imagine his Kingambit would have the ability Supreme Overlord, an ability that stacks the Pokemons ATK & spATK by 10% whenever an ally Pokemon faints. I'm not going to give actual competitive movesets for each character or even just a select few because that would literally take me hours but that was my thought process. Also shiny because why wouldn't the king of Rapture have a shiny?

Jasmine gets Mega Diancie because I just think she would and also because she deserves it. She's been through so much just let her have this one thing. Lilligant and Vivillon are there specifically because they can learn the move quiver dance, a reference to her being a dancer. I made her Vivillon the Polar Pattern to stand as a reference to the headcanon that she's Swedish (Vivillon is a Pokemon whose design changes based on where you are in the world, and the Polar Pattern appears in Sweden)

Brigids team looks ridiculous at first glance but the idea was that each Pokemon except for the last two are Pokemon that are good with kids or have an emphasis on motherhood (Kangaskhan), meanwhile Rhyperior and Kingdra are there so she can actually have some kind of firepower. This is one of the more flawed teams though I'm not fully satisfied with it. Yi Suchongs team really isn't that good either, I couldn't think of much for him, sorry... </3

Side characters/less important characters get teams of three or one, or if I just couldn't think of giving them any more. Steinmans team is like that as a reference to how he acts, I took the idea of him being obsessed with making his (most often female iirc) patients beautiful, so I gave him "beautiful" (shiny) female Pokemon. The fact his Gardevoir can mega evolve doesn't really matter but if I was gonna introduce the concept of megas here, then sure he can have a mega too. Not really fully satisfied with Peach's team but it's serviceable I guess. Julie has a bit more thought though. Florges was THE Pokemon for her, Tsareena is there Because Grass Type but she has a Galvantula because I'd imagine she'd use it to get rid of any pesky bugs among her trees or something like that.

Sander Cohens team requires no explanation but Anna's contrasts him interestingly. Her ace Araquanid counters his Volcarona (water/bug>fire/bug) and has an Oricorio too, but a different style than his. Also has a Decidueye to parallel with his Primarina. Most of the Disciples are obvious, (Kyle has a Noivern because it's a sound-based Pokemon and he plays an instrument) but Hectors Great Tusk was based entirely off the headcanon Kluski made that his favorite animals are elephants and I liked that (the idea was given to me by Yuro-skell though). Now that I look back, Alolan Muk would have worked for him but Great Tusk is infinitely cooler

Here's when it gets a bit more complex: Sofia and Eleanors teams are built in a way where I do think the respective Pokemon *fit* them, but they're specifically made to where all of Sofias Pokemon counters Eleanors (dark>psychic, ice>grass, grass>water, bug>dark, fire>bug, fighting>normal.) The fact Eleanor specifically has an unevolved Eevee is representative of how Subject Deltas actions inspire Eleanor. If you get a good ending, the Eevee evolves into a Sylveon, and if you get a bad or neutral ending, it evolves into a Jolteon

Augustus Sinclair's team is entirely based off of "because I think he'd have them" really. I know that's disappointing but I was satisfied with it and I couldn't really be bothered to change it. Not all of these are gonna be clever, I just FEEL like he'd have a Gallade ya know. Also forgot to include it but the Gallade can mega evolve

No Stanley here sorry. That's not motivated by how I dislike him, its mostly just because I know I wouldn't be able to think of anything... Grace has a Lapras, Altaria and Meloetta as a reference to how she's a singer, to which all three of those Pokemon can learn the move sing, and iirc also perish song? At least I know Lapras and Altaria can. Simon having an Omastar as an ace is a Pokemon community inside joke lol. I do still overall think it fits him through. Alexander The Greats team is by far one of the ones I'm the most satisfied with. (This is specifically spliced Gil btw not normal Gil) I think his team is perfect and fits his personality so well. His Rotom-Wash is shiny because of the color scheme actually. Whenever I think of Fontaine Futuristics, at least the place by Gils tank, I think of a very dangerous looking red, and Rotom-Wash fits the bill for that color perfectly

Charles has a Spiritomb because in its lore, Spiritomb is a collective, almost hivemind vortex of 108 dead peoples souls trapped inside it, and yes I know this is a stretch, it kind of reminded me of how he used The Thinker to imitate a dead person, so in a symbolic metaphorical sense, Pearls soul kind of lives on inside The Thinker? Hate to explain this one but like I said it's so niche and specific I don't think anyone would get it if I didn't explain it. The reason why his Toucannon is shiny is a joke I'm not gonna explain, just google "shiny Toucannon" and you'll immediately get it lol. Charles and Reed's team parallel each other a bit too: both of them having birds with Toucannon and Xatu, both of them having Paradox Pokemon, both of them having a gen 4 starter, both of them having an Eeveelution. Not really satisfied with the Eeveelution part at all but these two were the hardest for me to put together and I just wanted to get it over with. WHATEVER it's FINE

BONUS ROUND!!! If you thought I wasn't gonna include the Multiplayer characters you are sorrowly mistaken my friend... they all only get one but I put some thought into them. Barbara has a Marowak to the reference of how Cubones mourn the loss of their mothers (the mothers being Marowaks), so I thought her having a Marowak would represent her grief as a mother who lost her daughter. Buck has a G-Max Meowth in particular because it has the move "G-Max Gold Rush", a move that does damage and scatters coins across the ground, where the coins get picked up after the battle, as an obvious reference to him being a rich businessman. Blanche has a Lurantis as a symbolic reprentation of her personality: beautiful at a distance but deadly up close. Oscar has a Luxray because he canonically has cats. Luxray is a big cat. So I gave him Luxray. Yeah

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I’m just going “wild” as you post about what happens in Titans. -Rotten Anon

I can imagine that is the case for someone who has never seen the show lmao

here are a few of my top favourite funny and strange things that have actually happened in Titans:

Conner asks the person who created the science behind his cloning, Eve Watson, if he can call her Mom, because he thinks the idea of having 2 dads is lame (and maybe he's homophobic??? possibly an inherited trait from Lex Luthor - it's never made completely clear) (and shortly after he asks her this and she says 'yes', he never fucking sees her again ever)

(also I feel the need to add on that when Conner went to Lex Luthor's childhood home, all the pictures of young Lex were photoshopped bald, insinuating that he has been completely bald since his childhood - but the character doesn't have a hair disorder because adult Lex in the show has a full beard)

Conner wakes up from a coma and immediately shows Gar his whole bare dick, and then eats cereal out of a mixing bowl

Conner purse jacks a former Jigsaw trap victim to pay for his icon Superboy tee shirt

Conner has a major identity crisis after Lex Luthor dies (which may or may not be due to a giant satanic snake crawling around inside of him and causing him to look pregnant for a while?) and shaves his head (with the use of his laser eyes!!!) and then goes around acting more like Lex on purpose - which includes insulting everyone and acting like a giant asshole. and the show purposefully makes a joke about how people who are assholes wear Drakkar Noir

(most of the ones I love are about Conner, because the show does so much bizarre shit with him)

there is an entire episode about Dick having a hallucination of Bruce following him around and critiquing everything he says and does, including saying that Jason falling 50 stories was good because "dropping your problem children off buildings can be beneficial", him saying that Dawn dating Hank after dating Dick was an upgrade, and (best of all) Bruce dancing an elaborate cabaret dance on stage with 2 female dancers who are wearing sparkly outfits while Dick is trying to talk to the owner of the club to find out where Deathstroke's handler is

Gar was beaten to death by the Titans (or, as close to death as possible without actually dying, the show doesn't make it 100% clear), and instead of actually dying, he turns into a snake and this snake transformation somehow magically heals all of his injures (well, most of them, because he is still very bloody and bruised for most of the episode) - but then he is never able to transform into a snake again for the rest of the show's canon

Jason murdered Hank with a bomb implanted in his chest, and then he felt bad about it, so he role-played an apology with two prostitutes (no contact prostitutes, at that - like they had a little bedroom set up behind a viewing window) and he made them call themselves Dawn and Hank and he literally said "Hank, I'm sorry for killing you" (and this makes me fully believe that the show wants me to think that Jason - even unconsciously - has a weird sexual fixation on Dawn and Hank??? like Mommy and Daddy kink style?? especially because Hank tried taking care of Jason emotionally before the whole murder thing)

There is probably way more that I'm forgetting, but these are just the ones that came to mind immediately lmao

[tutuandscoot]

Things I love about VM: Post Skates

3. They always hold hands throughout their bows.

VM:

Others:

This was the subject of the VERY first post I did on here. I love the way they bow, specifically that they never let go of hands. I said in the initial post about this that in a male/female partnership- on ice being a skating couple or where I come from the dance world- specifically ballet, it is customary for the man to gesture his woman forward to curtesy, then they will turn to face each other and bow, then a final one, sometimes holding hands in dance hold, to the audience again. Now obviously with skaters they have 4 (but sometimes they only do two) sides to bow to. I don’t love when they let go, especially as far as the two above examples do. You literally get the separation in the two skaters, it’s like they are each taking in the applause individually.. like ‘thank you yes I was amazing’, TS’s visual gives you ‘thank you for watching US, we did this together’. As I’ve said this is something you see with stage dancers- separation and the man gesturing to the woman, but this is a sport, you’re on a team, there are no ‘solo’ sections, everything you do, are judged for is together. The way skaters often do this kind of bow, the man’s gesture to the woman feels insincere, I don’t get from the way they do it they are actually thinking ‘look how amazing my partner is’. With TS you know neither of them is accepting more praise then the other, in fact even as they stay connected throughout their bows, you feel they are feeling their success for each other, or if their was a mistake from one of them, they are taking that responsibility together. There is no sense of two separate individuals with TS, just one team. Scott would sometimes.. I’m not even sure if it was on purpose, but some photos of them bowing from behind when he puts his hand behind him, shows he is casually pointing to Tessa from behind his back.. so in his own subtle way.. he does give all his praise to her.

TS have a very simple curtesy/bow routine that they have done since.. the earliest known competition footage (I’ve seen) is their lil junior rock and roll no. Then from there through international juniors and all the way through seniors they would take hands in dance hold, bow, then he would spin her to the back, then sides- never letting go of hands. The only variation was Tessa would sometimes curtesy with her knee to the ground, other times a shallow curtsy and sometimes just a head bow with her hand to her heart. The way they bow is another thing that shows the leadership dynamic in their on ice partnership- Scott is still the leader and is in control of her. He decides where they will stand for their bows, how many sides they will do, etc.. in this instance here:

After this second one there was a slight hesitation from her, not sure if they will bow to all sides. There is a very brief look between them, a slight nod from him then he proceeds to spin her to the next side seamlessly.

This once again comes back to leadership and trust in their partnership. I’m the most mutually respectful way, she does what he tells her to without question.

You can see in the way he spins her how he initiated it, even though she knows the bows are coming and what to do. I love how they do it because they stay literally physically connected the whole time, and this just, again extends on from their actual programs. Even though there are always a few moments in their programs where they aren’t physically touching, they are always connected- there’s that invisible string holding them together, and they never get more they need to be away from each other- it’s as if they really don’t like being far apart from each other and they always want to be as close as possible. So it’s like their bows are part of that, ‘no please don’t let go I want to stay close to you’. Also there’s this huge imagery of ‘we are a team’. They loved being on a team- the team of just the two of them, their larger support team, their country’s team. But the visual of the two of them taking in the applause together, connected, like they can’t be separated, says so much about the strength they feel together, and any minor/brief separation not only ruins that image, but they can feel, even centimetres way from each other is too far, and they would never stand and accept glory and praise without feeling the other there taking it in with them.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Eri x Parent figure!Y/N

i have literally no idea how to work tumblr rn yay-

MHA | Fluff | Female Y/N

_______________________

Eri glanced up at me and smiled. "Y/N-chan?"

"Hm?" I crouched down to face her.

"Y/N-chan, can we play?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course, Eri! What do you want to play?" I asked, smiling.

"I don't know. I thought Mama Y/N-chan would know how to play. I don't know how to, yet!" Eri said, nodding to herself.

"Ah.." I said, my voice trailing off. She didn't know how to play?? "Well.. what do you like to do?"

"I like to.. I like to eat!" Eri said happily.

I laughed. "No, like, what do you like to play? As in.. hobbies? Like dancing or singing?" I suggested.

"I like to dance!! I like twirling around! It's so fun!" Eri insisted, eyes shining. "And.. and once Mr. Aizawa was spinning me around! It was like I was flying!" Her smile was brighter than the sun as she beamed at me.

I smiled back and patted her head. "Okay! Why don't we dance? I know a nice place we could go. I'll bring my phone so we can listen to music," I said, getting up.

"Okay, miss!" she responded, jumping up and down.

_______________________

We were on a hill with a soft breeze flowing around us. It was very pretty out today, and the sky was mostly clear, save for the few clouds dotted along every now and then.

Eri was very happy with this setting, it seemed, for she was giggling and running about.

"Eri! Don't go too far," I warned.

"Okay! I won't!" she promised, running back.

"Alright. Let me turn on some music," I said, clicking on a lively one hour looped beat.

"Yay! Can we play now?" Eri said excitedly.

"Pla-? Oh- Dance? Of course, yes," I agreed, taking her hand.

Eri beamed and then twirled around, using my hand to center herself. "Look! I can dance!" she laughed. The wind picked up slightly and her hair flowed around her widly.

"Yes, you can! What a beautiful dancer," I teased, letting go of her hand and copying her movements.

Eri giggled and then jumped up and down. I copied her. She spun again and then did a small bow. I did the same. Eri grinned and continued to dance around in her own silly way, and I copied her movements as best I could.

By the time the music stopped the two of us were in a chaotic mess as we twirled and danced and ran around. Eri laughed the whole time, letting her innocent little soul run free. A/n: H e l p - I usually write KNY so idk if I caught her personality right T-T

[jimimn]

Oh I'm sorry you had to go through that :( And I'm happy you were able to find something (or in this case someone) to be there for you ❤️❤️

OH I need to do that too!! Immediately googling how to add songs to Spotify 🧐

LMAOO yes I had the same thoughts cause set me free also had cursing and I was like ight how they gonna broadcast it on music shows but they are doing it, so? 😂 Maybe they bleeped the words, there aren't many after all 🤷‍♀️ Or they were also like Park Jimin can curse on a music show as a treat 😂

Oh oh oh and can we talk about the like crazy dance because????? I'm obsessed. His dancers were so BEAUTIFUL both the hybe and the late night show dancers. AND the way I saw people trying to say the woman in the mv wasn't representing him and fighting tooth and nail to prove that just for Jimin to have this dance LMAO he really said sike. Love that for him. I'm so in love with his dance between the male and female dancers and how he switches between them and how they pull and push him and and and IT'S JUST SO GOOD. My favorite is when the girls pull him towards them and then circle him and the first girl just kind of grips his chin (not really but the hand motion is similar to that) and turns it?? Idk why but I'm obsessed with that move. She really said bitch look at me, embrace yourself.

Also am I the only one who's kind of side eyeing everyone on twitter right now? Because everyone is saying "karmy we're exaggerating the dance wasn't even that sensual" and I'm like?? They didn't exaggerate though 😭 at least the translations I saw weren't like that.. Karmy did say the dancers touch him (chin, bicep, thigh etc) which they did, and that Jimin kind of warned them it would happen, but I don't think they exaggerated? Like they just told us what will happen. Or maybe I just didn't see those tweets lmao 😭 Idek why I'm bothered by this 😭 -🦋

thank you! 🥺 oh and the Spotify thing is really easy btw you just have to go to settings and switch on the local files option. then download the song and under your library on spotify, a playlist named "local files" will show up and you'll be able to see the song there. and then just normally like we do with songs, add the downloaded song on your normal playlists!!! it's a life saver 😭 i couldn't imagine going to YouTube every time i wanted to listen to letter 😭

LMFAO I think maybe jimin just won't sing the "fuck" during smf like hobi didn't on mama during arson. BUT!!! they should be allowed idc 😌

YESSSSSS please I'm obsessed with the like crazy choreo lord knows how many times I've watched both the Fallon performance and the dance practice video lmfao 😭😭😭 they did such a good job!!! whoever choreographed like crazy pls take a bow. BTS choreographies literally never disappoint they're just so good. And please, I've seen too many people invalidate the queer themes associated with like crazy. Like pls stop jimin just embarrassed you with the choreography. whoever denies it is just dumb atp like the woman is CLEARLY his reflection lmao 😭 I also saw homophobic armys attacking queer armys for saying that they related to the song like bffr art is subjective everyone has different stories and how they relate to the art they consume is none of your business 💀 AND OH YES THAT PART YOU MENTIONED PLS MY JAW DROPPED 😭😭😭 the entire choreo is just art i love it so much i can't fckin wait to watch more performances.

hmm about that i think it was a little bit of an overreaction though 😭 from what i saw. and i think it wasn't just because of karmys though it collectively blew up bc of engagement from both sides. I'm majorly side eyeing the people who are overcompensating saying things like "forget him i want her" just trying to prove a point which does not need to be proved like I'm sorry but you're coming off as equally obsessive as the people who are saying they are jealous lmao. like can we please be normal about this ffs 😭 but anyway. yeah. jimin keeps slaying that's what i care about 💅

[allegranardi]

Name: Allegra Sofia Nardi Nicknames: Allie Gender/Pronouns: Cis-Female, her/hers Age: 26 Birthday: June 11th, 1996 Zodiac: Gemini Sun, Virgo Rising, Pisces Moon Hometown: Rome, Italy Neighborhood: West Point Homes, Seattle Occupation: A bartender (architect) Sexuality: Heterosexual. Relationship status: Dating Rhett Matthews Positive traits: innovative, fearless, reliable Negative traits: reckless, impulsive, jealous

tw: alcohol, drugs.

Born to an Italian mother and an American father in the beginning of what would be an incredibly hot Italian summer, Allegra spent the first three years of her life in Rome living in a small, yet a happy family of three - her mom, her older brother & herself. And what about her dad? Well, her parents were in a long distance relationship that started during her mother’s college years in the States. Her father couldn’t move to Rome because he was a DEA agent, while her mother never wanted to live in the States. However, when her mother had finally decided to move the small family to New York so that they could all finally be together, her parents decided to break up.. after seven months of living together. And New York was nothing like Rome, not even close.. but it became a home. 

Friendly as she was, Allegra had managed to find herself a great set of friends and hobbies that made her life much sweeter in The Big Apple. Yet it was one hobby that managed to stand out - ballet. And she was dancing till she was seventeen years old, even dreaming of turning pro one day. A talented dancer, Allegra was spending all of her time in the ballet classroom till her toes would be literally bleeding, but she didn’t care about the pain or the tears - it was all she wanted to do. However all good things must come to an end, don’t they? A sudden knee injury prevented her from turning into a professional ballet dancer.. Allegra had never really recovered from her dream shattering into a million pieces.

Considering there was no future for her in the world of ballet, Allegra enrolled into the Columbia University majoring in History of Art & Architecture. Whether she wanted to work as an architect or not was not so much important to her as her days were filled with partying. To forget the pain caused by the loss of her dream, the girl could be found at every damn party, numbing herself to the point of not knowing who she was. Drinking wasn’t an enemy of hers, but a very dear friend, just as doing drugs wasn’t unknown to her. But she had it under control, didn’t she? It was during the weekends only, and to be fair, it wasn’t even every weekend - well, not anymore. And perhaps she couldn’t even remember when was the last time she even took something. But how many times had she woken up not remembering anything at all? Or the times she had found herself lying next to the unknown men in unknown bedrooms? She never cared about anyone except having fun.. it was all she wanted to do.

But it all come to an end when she met a certain blond musician - Rhett Matthews. It didn’t take them long to hook up, with both more than keen to just have fun, but it took them quite long to confess to themselves and each other there was more to the two of them than just sex. From the meaningless kisses to the days & nights spent together not wanting to let each other go.. they fell in love. And boy, did they fall - it was one of those I-can’t-live-without-you loves.. the one they had no control over whatsoever, so it wasn’t surprising that Allegra decided to pack her suitcases and move to Seattle with Rhett. No questions asked.. the bottom line was, all she wanted was to be with him. 

[skzhua]

Got It (Lee Minho x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Genre: Choreographer!Lee Minho x Dance Captain!Reader, female reader, fluff, slow burn.

Word Count: 5,532

Warnings: Slight cursing, drinking.

Summary: Nobody seems to be fond of the new choreographer, but he does seem to grow fond of you.

A/N: I had no choice but to included Itzy and the Hwang siblings cause, man, I love those two groups together. And yes, I am well aware they are not real siblings but let me live my dream, thank you. :D

30 minutes. That's how late you were, 30 minutes. In your 20 years of living, never once were you late to a dance practice, especially not the first of the season.

Last summer, you finished first in 3 categories – female solo, duet and female group – and it was your best year so far. You've been dancing since you learned to stand on two feet and anyone who had eyes could recognize you are talented. Very much so, your previous dance coach and choreographer had promoted you to dance captain a few years ago. You took your role so seriously, you would stay late in the dance studio only to practice. You even started to throw small parties here and there in order to bond with your teammates.

That's why you couldn't believe it when you woke up to a message from Yeji that practice had started 10 minutes ago. You were so glad you lived near the dance studio, but with getting ready and bringing your practice bag with you, 20 minutes had passed when you finally walked in the room. The 7 pairs of eyes stares at you as soon as you opened the door and you smiled sheepishly, embarrassed.

"Hey, guys..." you said, in a small voice.

"Where the hell were you? I called you 5 times and sent so many texts, and you never answered!" Yeji yelled out, walking to you as the sweat was dripping on her face. "We are dying here without you!"

"Dying? What do you mean?" you asked, confused as you looked over to your other teammates for an answer.

Felix spoke out as he looked down. "We have a new choreographer."

"What? I thought Miss Park was coming back again this year."

"Nope." Ryujin continued. "We have Mister Lee Minho, now." Almost instantly, the door behind you opened revealing an handsome man, around your age. "Talking about him..." she trailed off.

With the looks of a prince, the lean body of a professional dancer and doe-like eyes, he still gave off an intimidating presence. No wonder the crew seemed almost scared of the man. However, you were not the kind to be threatened by any authority figures, even less a new dance coach. You have seen every types, and this Lee Minho didn't phase you in the slightest.

"I suppose you are Y/N." he said in a stern voice.

"And I assume you are Lee Minho."

"You're late."

"I know."

"I would have expected better from our dance captain. Are you sure you deserve this title?" he pondered, almost challenging you.

"I'm certain, yes."

"Don't be late again." he simply sighed before walking to the front. "Alright guys, now that stretching is done, shall we start reviewing some moves from last year? I want to see your level before determining what style I want to work with you all."

With that being said, one by one, you offered your best performance in front of the new coach. Once you all passed, he required for you to dance as a group. After being done, he dismissed you all, saying he'll figure out what style he'll go for and who seems to be the strongest dancers among the crew.

Taking a sip from your water bottle, you and Chan started to gather your things to leave afterwards.

"He's making us sweat like crazy! It's even worse than when I go work out. I'm already sore!" the man complained like a child.

"It's harsher than with Miss Park, but I think he's good. He seems serious and knowledgeable about dancing, I'm sure he'll do good to our group." you defended.

"Y/N, he literally embarrassed you in front of everyone."

"And so? He knows how to discipline people, that's good I think."

Yeji frowned at your statement as she joined in the conversation. "You like having a strict coach?"

"How am I supposed to improve if I don't have someone to push my limits?"

"She might just like Mr. Lee." Chan teased but you simply ignored him while the others responded with more teasing and laughter.

As you were all leaving the room, your name was called out. To no surprise, Minho was the one asking for you. You let the others know you'll join them afterwards before making your way to Minho.

"Yes?"

Minho took a minute to observe you. He had noticed your talent, there was no doubt you were, by far, one of, if not, the best among the crew. He had seen so many dancers, he knew for sure how to spot a great one. However, you had something intriguing. Unlike the others, you understood how having pressure only helps to improve.

"I might have to take my words back, you surprised me today."

You nodded you head in acknowledgement of his compliment. "Thank you, and so have you. Rare it is someone who has this much authority on a group on the first practice."

He laughed at your remark. "I know how to put people back to their place."

"Right."

"I'd like for you to arrive in time next practice. I like to be punctual, so please don't make me wait."

"I'm not late usually. It's only because you started at 8 and we used to start at 9." you explained, but he didn't seem to accept your justification.

"Well, get used to it. 8:00am this Thursday. On time, please."

You nodded rapidly and he dismissed you. When you stepped out of the building, Yeji, Chan and Hyunjin were waiting for you as they were discussing. Hyunjin noticed you quickly and hurried to you.

"What did he want?"

"He asked me to not be late next time, that's all."

"I don't like him, he nags you when you're literally the most well-behaved among us." Hyunjin pouted as you started to walk towards your usual ice cream shop.

"He nags all of us, though?" Yeji pointed out to her brother.

Hyunjin ignored her as he opened the door of the shop, allowing you all to enter the place. The fresh odor of sugar mixed with a fruity scent made you smile, especially after you spotted Jeongin at the counter. You have come to the place so often, it was inevitable for you to bond with the young cashier. As you kept showing up at his workplace, he had started to give you some discounts.

"Jeongin!" you exclaimed while making your way to the ice cream display.

"Hey guys! The usual?"

"I think I'll have strawberry sorbet this time." you answered.

"Same." Chan said.

The siblings took their usual ice cream cones and Jeongin was quick to make your orders. You savoured your sorbet while the others engaged in a conversation you were, frankly, not listening to at all. Instead, your mind wandered off to your interaction with Minho. It was so odd. There was an obvious respect between the two of you, but you felt as if he was testing you. Even the few remarks he made throughout the whole practice, they had a hint of challenge in them. You couldn't help but feel intrigued by him. How was it going to be this year with him among the group? You'd have to wait and see.

Three months had passed since that first practice. As promised, you were never late again. In fact, you were always the first one to get there, arriving about 10 minutes beforehand. Minho seemed to be the early type too, because he was always there in advance as well. The first time you arrived at the same time, it was rather uncomfortable. Neither if you spoke while you were stretching to the music Minho had put. As time passed, you started to converse with one another. It could be about dancing, about the weather, about food, even about his cats. Somehow, you always had something to talk about. The more you two talked, the more you got to see his crazy side. Believe it or not, Minho might be the craziest person you know. The man carries bundles and is a literal cat mom... what can be any weirder than this?

You and Minho were getting along perfectly, but you couldn't say the same for the rest of the group. Felix was apparently too "energetic", Yeji needed to improve her angles, Jisung wasn't taking Minho's comments seriously enough, Chan seemed to be tired and needed to focus (which was true, honestly, the man needs to sleep), and Ryujin and Chaeryeong were apparently talking too much. As for Hyunjin, he seemed to be the only one who had nothing Minho could see as wrong. This dynamic was no fun for anyone, but you really saw it as an opportunity to push yourself to the best.

Today was no exception, except for the fact the championships were coming in the next few months and Minho wanted to make sure everyone was prepared.

"I made sure to be registered for every category, and I mean every single ones." he stared at the crew intensely for a moment before taking out a list from his phone. "We have male and female solos. I think Hyunjin would be a great fit."

"I can do it, yes." Hyunjin nodded and Minho seemed satisfied.

"Y/N? You did last year. How do you feel if I suggest Ryujin instead?"

"She can do it." you said nonchalantly.

Of course, you would have loved to have a solo again, but you truly believed Ryujin deserved her moment. She was an incredible dancer, after all.

"Great." Minho noted before continuing. "For the male and female trios, I noted myself, Felix and Hyunjin. As for the girls, Yeji, Ryujin and Chaeryeong." he looked up to see nods of approval from everyone. "We have male and female groups as well, and mixed which I think is obviously going to be all of us. I have female duos... How about Chaeryeong and Y/N?"

You were more than impressed. Usually, you would have the dances displayed and choose yourselves who would do what. Minho chose to assign the numbers himself, but he did so amazingly, and thought out of everything. From who matches the most with who, to their dance styles and their level.

"I'd like to see Chan and Jisung try for the male duo. Y/N?"

You perked at the mention your name and exchanged eyes with Minho. "Yes?"

"You're on duet duty with me. Sounds good?"

"Sure."

"Great. We'll dedicate half an hour of our practice for the group number. For the remaining hour, you can all go practice on your own. I'd still appreciate it if you can come see me once in a while to keep me up to date with how things are going. I have a few songs suggestions already, you can stay afterwards if you want to hear them. That'll be it for today. Thank you for your work! And Felix?"

The boy stepped forward, with a small and scared smile displayed on his face. "If I see another TikTok dance or anything of that sort, I'll be sure to beat your ass."

Felix gulped as Minho dismissed everyone. Soon enough, he hurried to you, enveloping you in a hug.

"Felix, the hell?" you said, startled at the sudden embrace.

"I don't get why you like this guy, have you seen how he bullies me?"

"He has a good point, though... Imagine doing the Renegade dance in a competition."

"See? You're even defending him!" he cried out, Jisung patting his back to comfort him.

"I think he needs to rest a bit, sorry for the bother." Jisung smiles apologetically before taking Felix out of the practice room.

You laughed at the two and were about to follow behind them. Yet, you stopped on your track. You turned around to see you were, once again, left alone with Minho. You remembered how he mentioned he had songs suggestions for the dances, and you were curious to know what he had chosen.

"Can I listen to the songs you picked?"

Surprised to hear your voice, he jumped a bit as he noticed you were still in the room. He nodded slightly and walked to the speaker and selected the playlist he made.

"Do you want to hear one in particular?" he asked.

"Our duet."

Looking back at his phone, he clicked on a song and soon later, a sweet ballad filled the room. No lyrics, only music. When you started to familiarize yourself with the soft tone, it gradually turned into a beat with a hint of bass in it. It was intense, sensual almost. When the song finished, Minho looked at you, expectedly.

"I know it might be a bit... too much?" he said, while his ears were slowly turning red. "But I thought it could fit our styles. I work a lot with smooth body movements and you're mainly a contemporary dancer. I just thought it could-"

You chuckled at his flustered face as he kept rambling about why he chose this song specifically. "Min, it's okay. I like it, I think it suits us well."

He nodded, reassured. "Okay, good... Umm... Do you want to listen to any other ones?"

"Why not?" you smiled warmly.

With that, he showed you the other songs he thought of for the dances and even that part of him impressed you. You commented and suggested other tracks yourself. You didn't know it, but it was at this moment that Minho realized he liked you. And I mean, like LIKE you.

"How is it going with Minho?" Chaeryeong asked, once you finished your dance for the fifth time already.

"The duet? I don't know, he's a bit busy with choreographing his dance with Lix and Jinnie. He said he knows we can choreograph and learn ours quick, so he focuses on the others for now."

"That's good, but that's not what I meant."

You looked at her curiously and she invited you to sit down with her. "Then, what did you mean?" you asked as you sat in front of her.

"You KNOW what I mean..." she insisted and it took you a few seconds to understand where she was going with this.

"No."

"Yes."

"You're saying bullshit."

"Oh, come on! You're the only one he doesn't nag."

"He does nag me."

"No, he suggests new techniques instead of pointing out your weak points. You always stay behind to talk with him after practice is over and he smiles at you. He SMILES!! Also, why the hell did you choose a sensual dance with him?"

Your cheeks reddened quickly and you shook your head at her bold comment. "It's- it seemed fitting for our dance style." She gave you a look and you sighed, letting yourself lay on the floor. "We just get along, what do you want me to say?"

"That you are actually in love and you're just hiding it from us."

"The fuck?" you sat up right away. "I only talk to him when we practice, I can barely say I'm friends with the guy. Besides, you know I don't date."

"Yeah, and what a shame! Seungmin and I are even happier together, it could be the same for you."

You quickly changed subject, replaying your song once again to practice. As much as you wanted to deny it, you hated how right she was. How she pointed out perfectly your crush on the older man. He wasn't much older, 24 years old you learned. Surprisingly, that only added to your attraction to him. You hated how handsome he was, how good he was at dancing, and how easily he could make you laugh with his idiotic self.

You couldn't allow yourself to make a move. What if you get rejected right before the championships? It would only make things awkward. Even without the context of the competition, it was a bad idea overall. You had to suppress those small feelings, and quickly.

"... 7, and 8."

As soon as Minho was done counting, he separated himself from you. At first, it was easy to hide his attraction to you. But as time passed and practices were more frequent, he knew his humor was only a way for him to restrain himself from letting you know how beautiful he thought you were. He almost cursed himself from making this dance so intimate with you, the ending being a close embrace with your faces millimeters apart.

"You dropped me... again." you pointed out, even though you knew you didn't need to say it since Minho was already aware of his mistake.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, eyes stuck on his phone to rewind the song to the part he kept messing up. "Again." he simply said, positioning himself to be ready to lift you.

However, you didn't cooperate with his orders and you walked to the speaker to turn it off. Minho looked at you, and scoffed at your actions.

"What are you doing?"

"You're clearly not focused and you're definitely overworking yourself. You're here 24/7, do you even have a life outside of here? A girlfriend to get home to?" you surprised yourself at the question, but glad you made your point known.

"I'm fine, I swear. And I don't really date, nor do I have many friends."

"You have your cats." you pointed out. "And I'm sure Soonie is in need of Minho cuddles."

"He sleeps in my bed, I can assure you he has enough cuddles."

"My point IS" you exclaimed, starting to get frustrated with the man. "you need to take a break."

"Says the one who happens to be here the most after me."

"Then, how about we both take a break?"

You didn't even let him answer and you grabbed his wrist to lead him out of the dance studio. Ignoring his protests, you were quick to bring him to a small convenience store close by.

"Do you like instant ramen?"

"Who doesn't?" he replied. "This is ridiculous, though. We really need to work on that move and-"

"Shut up, Min. Choose whatever you want, I'm paying."

He protested once again, but you shut him up and he finally grabbed a cup of noodles. You sat at the table installed outside after you poured boiling water in your bowls. Minho was the first to start eating and, seemingly, he was hungry as he smiled, satisfied at the taste.

"So? Was I right?" you asked, smiling at the sight of his full cheeks.

He nodded and swallowed his food before speaking. "I have to admit, I do need a break."

"There you go!" you laughed. As you kept eating, you started to have some doubts regarding the championships. "We have a month left."

"Yeah.."

"Do you think we're ready?"

"Everybody's been working hard, even Jisung stopped messing around. I'm sure we'll do great."

"I know, but I meant you and I. You did drop me a lot today. And the ending, you're the one who insisted on posing for a few seconds. But you didn't do it today. Did I do something wrong?"

Minho's eyes widened in panic, as you kept questioning yourself. "Oh my god, no, stop that! Like you said, I'm exhausted and I need a break. That's all, you did nothing. And I dropped you, yes, sorry again. Still, I think it's the first time today I make this mistake. I was simply distracted, we'll be fine."

"Okay, if you say so. You can skip tomorrow if you need to rest, you know?"

"I can't do that, who's gonna manage the group, then?"

"I'll do it. I've known them for a long time and I'm dance captain, after all." you bragged.

"Right, my bad, Mrs." he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I guess the cats will be happy to have a full day with their mama."

You judged him silently, taking another bite of your food. "You're weird."

Minho stared at his phone, no reaction, freezing as he read the message again. You? Y/N? You were inviting him to one of the dance crew parties? He knew about those night gatherings, of course. He just assumed he'll never get to go to one since pretty much everyone except you and Hyunjin seem to despise him. It seemed like things had changed.

You felt bad for him, he was always excluded by the others. This was going to be your last party, before leaving for the competition the next day. You thought he had to come to this one, at least. He's the reason why you all have worked so hard, after all.

Minho : are you sure?

Y/N : 100% sure

Minho : okay then.. do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N : your handsome face and your usual goofy self is enough

Minho was red all over his face as he read the message you just had sent. How can you be so bold with this type of comment?

Minho : not even alcohol?

Y/N : i have enough to satisfy everyone, don't worry about that

The next day, everyone got there in the late afternoon; Jeongin being invited as well, your brother Changbin intruding himself in the group and Chaeryeong brought Seungmin along with her. Ryujin didn't forget to invite your school friends, Yuna and Lia. The only person missing was the one you were looking forward to see the most.

The evening was starting to settle in and you haven't done much other than talking and catching up. When 7pm hit, the doorbell rang and you stood up immediately at the sound.

"Someone is eager to see Mr. Lee." Felix teased and you sent him a death glare in response.

You walked to the door and opened it only to see Minho, casual clothing replacing his usual sport attire he had on during practice. He looked good.

"Am I too late?" he asked.

"Nah, everyone got here a bit early. Come in." you stepped aside so he could walk inside and everyone greeted him warmly, to your surprise.

When you told your friends you invited Minho, they were all reluctant to the idea. After all, they only knew him as strict and mean Mr. Lee.

The night was going well. Minho included himself a lot within the group, even Jisung seemed to have taken a liking to him. The more people drank, the messier the party was. Soon later, you changed the music for a calmer tone and you went back to chatting and laughing.

"Should we play a game?" Felix suggested, much to everyone's excitement, except yours.

You knew your friend better than this. He gave you a knowing look, confirming his intentions.

"I think I'll just watch you, guys."

"Y/N, come on! You're no fun... You always play, usually." Yeji tried to convince you.

"Oh, so you play often?" Minho asked, curious about the party-like version of yourself.

"She probably has kissed everyone in this room. Except Changbin, of course." Chan exclaimed.

Minho frowned at this revelation. He would have never thought of you as this type of person.

"You should play, then." he said, which caused the whole room to agree with him with screams and laughs.

You ended up agreeing. It's just a game, after all. Right? Ryujin was the first one to go and she asked Chan truth or dare. Chan, playing it safe, chose truth.

"Did you like someone in this room and never told them?"

"No." Chan laughed. "I see you as siblings, it'd be too weird for me." Disappointment filled the air as Chan moved to the next person. "Jeongin."

"Truth."

"Boring." Hyunjin booed.

"Have you ever gotten in trouble to get us an ice cream discount?"

"Surprisingly, never, but I think my boss knows. He just never said anything. Okay, Felix."

"Dare."

"Kiss Hyunjin."

"Come on, we did this one last time too." he whined, disappointed at the dare.

Nonetheless, he walked to the tall man and gave him a peck. It was probably the 100th kiss they've had already because of this game, it didn't hype up the group much.

"Y/N." Here we go... "Truth or dare?"

Neither were good for you. Were you going to either kiss him or risk him knowing about you months-long crush on him? With that in mind, the safest option seemed obvious.

"Dare."

"Kiss Minho... for 10 seconds."

Your eyes widened at the request. You expected the kiss, but not the duration. Oh, how much you hated Felix at this instant. You turned to look at Minho, his expression blank. You couldn't guess what he was thinking, and that made things worse. Ignoring the whistles your friends made, you got closer with Minho as you put your hands behind his neck.

"Are you okay with this?"

He was not. He was terrified, but he wasn't going to say this to your face.

"It's a game. Besides, I'll get to see how much of a horrible kisser you are." he teased to diffuse the tension, and you could only roll your eyes at his joke.

You took a breath and closed your eyes as you approched Minho's face. Soon, you felt your nose touching and his warm breath of your lips. Somehow, this seemed to have provoked something in Minho as he brought his hands to the sides of your face and quickly closed the gap separating the two of you. The kiss was deep, needy, almost like it was something that he couldn't have waited for any longer, and neither could you. The kiss deepened even more when he opened his mouth slightly, allowing you to slide your tongue in. You knew the others were probably howling in joy, but you couldn't hear them. Your sole focus was on Minho, on the butterflies you felt in your stomach. At this point, you knew the 10 seconds had already passed, but you were still kissing each other. You could say you were disappointed when Minho finally pulled away. His eyes had lust in them as he stared right back at you, your faces still close. In embarrassment, you coughed and looked away from him.

"Alright.. um... Chaeryeong? Truth or dare."

Last night ended awkwardly, to say the least. Minho avoided your gaze as much as you avoided his, barely saying goodbye to you as he left your house. Yeji stayed over for the night and you were literally screaming in embarrassment. The poor girl had to endure your complaining, your whining and your drunk behavior all night long. Luckily, the ride to the competition was a few hours which allowed you to sleep in the bus you reserved especially for the occasion.

Even in the vehicle, it was awkward. While Minhlo sat at the very front with his new friend, Jisung, you sat at the back with Yeji and Felix and Hyunjin sitting in front of you. You fell asleep in a matter of seconds once the bus drove off, allowing the three others to speak about THE event.

"Looks like you, girls, had a good night of sleep." Hyunjin said sarcastically, staring at your tired face.

"Felix Lee Yongbok, I blame you for this " Yeji glared at the boy.

"Can you really blame me? I thought they would confess or something. Not this." he shook his head.

"Yeah, well now they have a freaking duet to do."

"The duet isn't until the last day. They'll have time to figure it out."

Yeah, you didn't figure it out. Avoiding each other during the day, only focusing on the dance during the group number, avoiding his gaze as he did the trio number, not speaking to each other when everyone went out to eat to celebrate at dinner... It was an interesting first two days, let's say.

By the end of the second day, you both have managed perfectly fine with not talking with one another. However, this situation seemed to weigh on one person in particular.

"Y/N, we need to talk!" he exclaimed as he bursted into your room without any warning, making you jump.

"Jisung, what the fuck? How did you get in?"

"I asked Yeji for your other room key. Now, listen to me." he said sternly, approaching you. "Fix things with Minho, already. I'm glad him and I get along now, but all I've heard about for the last 48 hours was him complaining about you. Go fix your man."

With that being said, he simply left without letting you answer. You found yourself dumbfounded by his sudden outburst, too stunned to react. Not even two minutes after, Yeji walked in, her room key in her hand.

"Jisung needs to stop stealing our stuff, it has become a real issue." she rolled her eyes before plunging onto her bed.

Even with Jisung's request, you still haven't talked with Minho about what happened. As you expected, the duet was announcing itself to be a disaster. Already dressed and backstage, you exchanged looks with the man himself as he stood at the same spot opposite to you. Even though he was in the dark, you could see his features clearly. Ethereal, you though. You have rarely seen him in this kind of attire; a loose shirt with black pants and makeup that hid the tiredness of his eyes. His hair was neatly styled which gave it some fluff. You never thought you could find him more attractive than he already was. Behind his good looks, you still saw the hint of sadness and nervousness in his eyes.

The signal for you to come on stage was heard and you positioned yourself in the middle of the stage, Minho doing the same. As he place himself behind you, you turned around to say something, but he stopped you right away.

"Focus." he whispered. "We'll talk later. Good luck."

You nodded at his words and on cue, the smooth ballad you grew familiar with started to play. The beginning of the dance was slow, graceful. Minho had amazing bodg control as he moved smoothly next to you. As rehearsed, he grabbed your hand before making you spin and stepped back to observe you. When the beat started to turn slowly into the sensual style, the dance shifted from an innocent and soft one to a powerful and intense performance, filled with passion. Minho's moves were precised and his facial expressions couldn't be better. He had so much charisma, you melted only with a small glance at him.

Not losing your focus, you kept going, until it was the moment Minho was supposed to lift you. Strangely, he still hadn't managed to do it properly, and it worried you even more because of what happened at the party. Growing more anxious, you allow yourself to look at him in search of reassurance. It was no surprise for you when you found his eyes staring right back at you, still the passionate facial expression plastered on his face. With a small nod, he took you by the waist and lifted you at the right angle, maintaining the pose for a bit before dropping you, only for you to land back in his arms. He held you in his embrace, his face close to yours, just as planned. Only this time, it ended with what you have been wanting to do for months. He closed the proximity between the two of you and finished off the duet with a kiss. Taken aback, it took you a second to process what he was doing before you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss.

At this moment, it was as if you didn't need to speak about what happened anymore. You both knew that you wanted each other other, that was all. The cheers from the crowd snapped you out of your trance and you pulled away before bowing at the crowd. Minho held onto your hand tightly and smiled at your glowing face. When you arrived backstage, he didn't lose another second before he kissed you once more.

"Okay, okay! That's enough, lovebirds." Chan said, tapping on your backs.

You separated yourself from Minho and rolled your eyes at Chan. Minho pulled you back into his embrace again and hugged you tightly.

"I think you guessed it by now, but I like you a lot." he said softly.

"And I think you guessed as well, but I like you too." you laughed. "I'm sorry for the party."

"No, I was the one who was being weird about it. I'm sorry."

You hugged him tighter and pecked him lips quickly. You stared at his eyes more attentively this time and his ears turned red as you admired him.

"How does a date sound when we get back home?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good."

He leaned in for another kiss but you stopped him.

"Wait." you said and he gave you a confused look. "So am I a horrible kisser?"

He looked up for a bit to think, and then spoke. "Hmm... I might need to test it out more than once to make an accurate evaluation."

You scoffed at his answer. "So you evaluate my kissing as well as my dancing now?"

"You got it." he answered with a smile and went for another kiss, much to Chan's disgust.

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[marzipanandminutiae]

The difference between Victorian prudery and 50's prudery is that Victorian prudery was a genuinely reasonable response to the situation women lived in, while 50's TV prudery actually was stupid.

I've let this percolate for a bit because I wanted to collect my thoughts on it. And they vary depending on what Anon meant.

What I think this is trying to say is that, given the emphasis placed on women's reputations back then re: sexuality, it made sense for them to behave in an extremely straitlaced manner. Because (for most women) their lives would quite literally be destroyed if their virtue were seriously called into question. They would struggle to find employment or a husband, might be cut off by parents or other supporting entities, and could find themselves alone in the world with no means of support. And with that general idea, I agree. Pretty logical to refuse to even kiss a man before marriage if your entire livelihood is on the line.

(Not to mention, a working-class white woman, a middle-class white woman, a white heiress, and a woman of color regardless of social status all had different standards for what they could get away with. While they all lived under similar unfair standards and systemic misogyny...intersecting axes of oppression and privilege definitely played a role here)

Except.

A. That was not the extent of extreme Victorian prudishness. While stories about table legs being covered for modesty are pure invention, you DO hear about some people in the 19th century going pretty far in the Prim and Proper department. I recall one 1870s issue of a fashion magazine by the renowned Madame Demorest where she cautioned her female readers about arraying their legs "like ballet dancers" in the wildly popular striped stockings. To do so, she implied, was to invite the stares of men when a lady lifted her skirt to go up steps.

And I honestly don't see any way that could be construed as reputation-ruining behavior, given that...well, like I said, the stockings in question were everywhere. I have two separate fashion dolls of the era who both wear their original striped hosiery. Clearly women weren't risking their means of support by wearing them, and yet at least one conservative writer considered them Improper. That, then, hardly seems justifiable prudishness to me- and that's just one example.

It leads well into my second point, namely:

B. Even the Victorians though some Victorians were too prudish. Etiquette manuals can tell us a lot about the ideals of an era, but they aren't a good record of real human behavior. Take, for example, the use of the word "limb" to substitute for "leg." Out of context, this seems like proof that our 19th-century ancestors were stuffy prudes who had the vapors at the slightest hint of anything remotely racy.

But if you actually look at sources from the era, most of them seem to be mocking rather than endorsing the practice (source)

That holds true for many other illogically prudish behaviors of the time- in my experience, many people seem to have rolled their eyes almost as hard as we do today at a lot of the "nice girls don't" edicts. The big one remained largely unquestioned: don't have sex outside of heterosexual wedlock and don't give anyone reason to think you have. And that latter part covered a lot of behaviors we- rightly -see as absurd and misogynistic today. But rules that got as minute as the appropriate number of times to dance with a specific man at a ball were often waived in reality- or at least, endorsed for reasons of potential rudeness rather than scandal.

Which is to say, not all Victorian prudishness can be justifiable if even they themselves thought some was ridiculous.

C. A lot of the pressures on women to remain chaste and morally unassailable remained- or had returned -in the 1950s.

I'm surprised I even have to say this, because I figured it was pretty common knowledge. But every reason a woman might shut down relatively tame amorous advances in 1850 was pretty much present in 1950: a woman known to be "ruined" could have a very hard time functioning in mainstream society. Things had loosened up a bit- although, to be honest, being caught in a kiss wouldn't even necessarily destroy a woman's reputation in the 19th century -but the central theme of Don't Let Anyone Suspect You've Had Extramarital Sex Or Your Reputation Is Toast persisted.

And as for things that were patently absurd in the 1950s- you mentioned "TV prudery," which I assume means things like married sitcom couples sleeping in twin beds -well. That sort of nonsense was present in the Victorian era, too. And as in the Victorian era, I expect plenty of people snickered at it in the 1950s.

TL;DR- To me, the idea of one period having Logical Prudishness and the other having Performative BS kind of falls apart because both eras had examples of both types. I can see a point of agreement here in the idea that some uptight behavior in women who wanted to do otherwise was a logical response to insanely rigorous moral standards, but the rest of your argument doesn't really hold water for me.

[finniestoncrane]

sending in another request (hopefully that's allowed!!) because lmao I have to make you be gay online 😤 /j

Character: 🤡 (again, I'll let you pick lol)

Scenario: 💃

Sentence: ⚫️

(and afab!reader lol)

(let's also pretend that this isn't just like an absolute fantasy of mine!)

Sway

general!harley quinn x female!reader/dancing meda you can do whatever you want because i love you u-u minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: it's just fluff, so much fluff, and a kiss! requests are closed • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

She was a lot more graceful than you. Balanced, light on her feet. There was no doubt she was a better dancer, and could be sprawling out over the floor, one complicated move after the other, footwork impeccable, looking as though she might be gliding on ice, floating on air.

But Harley stood still, swaying from side to side with you, her arms wrapped around your waist and her head resting on your shoulder as she hummed to the music. As you looked around you, at the other couples, the people sitting around the dancefloor, watching everyone, it felt like they were focused just on you and Harley, watching and judging. Because regardless of how often she held you, kissed you, pushed you to dance with her, you still couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t quite…enough.

Harley was adorable, beautiful, hot. Desirable, in a terrifying kind of way. Terrifying in an incredibly arousing way. Sweet and smart enough that she always got what she wanted, and who she wanted, and you couldn’t quite believe that you were the person she was willing to settle on.

Sensing your unease, something she was particularly good at, she lifted her head, inquisitive look on her face, brows raised and smile forming a frown.

“You don’t look good, sug’! You ok?”

“I’m fine…I’m…yeah I’m ok.”

“Hmmm…”

She lifted your arm and spun underneath it, on her return to face you she pressed in close, her nose to yours, eyes wide.

“Boop! Oooh…maybe we should go get some fresh air? You didn’t even kinda smile there!”

Before you had a chance to play it off, pretend that the invite to the balcony wasn’t a literal dream come true, she already had your hand, stomping through the crowds, her regular, brash charm separating them like waves.

You both leaned your elbows down against the railing, silently taking in the moment, the way the stars shone, the clouds that obscured half of the moon. It was nice out here, you could breathe. The perils of dating an outgoing, social butterfly. You rarely had a minute alone with her. Which meant that while it was an exciting and whirlwind romance, there hadn’t been many sweet moments where you could just be you, the two of you, quiet and vulnerable.

In this rare situation, where both of you had been quiet for more than five minutes, you moved your hand slowly towards her, meeting it quicker than expected to find she was reaching for you. An awkward giggle, wide smiles on both of your faces. In sync, you both sighed as you stared up at the sky, a deep blue instead of black this evening. Blue like her eyes.

You turned to her, finding her turning to you at the same time.

“Wow…”

You interrupted each other as you spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

A solidifying notion that you were meant to be, same thoughts, same feelings, same appreciation. The calm romance didn’t last long, before you were receiving a swift punch the arm.

“Jinx! Now you gotta buy me a drink, and I have expensive tastes bub!”

She trotted off back inside, and you followed, pleased that you got to be the one she punched.