#n’night

[fl3eting]

[thecapricunt1616]

You guys a I just had a that’s so raven Carmy vision PLS LMAO. Imagine your toddler is like “dada- dada lay with me” when he gets home from work. Like your baby hears him come in after work so they just speak out loud knowing Carmy will hear it.

He sighs at first, but trudges into your bedroom, strips out of his chefs whites he didn’t get a chance to change out of after service and pulls on a tshirt and sweatpants before shuffling to the nursery. He’d nudge the door open to see your son standing in his crib with messy curls and a big smile.

“Dada, dada, dada” he’d whisper as he bounced happily on his mattress in his crib.

“Mhmm- dada is tired. Ready t’go n’night - s’move over” he throws his leg over the bar, plopping down in the crib and sighing “not usin’ this?” He asked your son nonchalantly while holding up his baby blanket before tossing it over his face and pretending to snore.

Your son giggled happily and snuggled into carmys side, kissing his arm “n’night dada” he said happily.

Carmy rested there rubbing his back for a good 20 minutes before picking up his head and looking at your son who was already mostly asleep. “Love you, cub. Mommas gonna be mad if she wakes up an’I’m In here, can I have a kiss?” he whispered, puckering his lips and getting a kiss from your sleepy baby “muah! I love you honey” he said softly before gently untangling himself from him and assuring he was comfortable before he laid him down gently.

He carefully got up, putting his leg over the tall crib bar and realizing his foot didn’t touch the floor. He furrowed his brow, carefully trying to put the bar down from the inside but he found out quickly that was impossible. “Babe?!” He whispered to the baby monitor on the wall. “Baby- you up? I got fuckin’ stuck!” He whisper shouts

Your son sat up “dada?” He whispered and carmy looks down at him.

“Lay down! Shh! S’okay! Dada just doesn’t want a boo-boo from jumping out. Mama will help- go t’sleep” and your son just nods obediently.

After 3 more minutes of waiting, Carmy again tries to get out himself. He lays on the bar, trying to get himself out- but before he could plant his foot ends up fully tumbling out and face planting on the carpet.

Your son starts laughing wildly and the loud thud woke you up causing you to sprint out of a dead sleep into the baby’s room and turn the light on to see Carmy In a heap on the floor.

“Carmen! What in the hell! What happened?!” You pull your robe tighter around yourself

“Mama!!” Your son said between giggles “a- a dada fall down, got boo boos!” He continued cracking up.

“He wanted snuggles” Carmy groaned painfully.

[mi-ciudad]

Teeths are brushed, mustache is blowdried, jammers are on. Okay n’night y’all 💋💋💋👨🏻🪴🪴🪴

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

Despite having many thoughts and feelings about pirate show tonight I’m gonna force myself to go to bed and get some rest so I can enjoy the new episodes tomorrow, n’night y’all!! 😊

[cronenbergofficial]

n’night

[gr-ogu]

.

[jaeminlore]

oh mY can you do a cuddling with jaemin bullet thingy please it would be so incredibly great that i would implode

heck yeah

— jaemin would get so excited like lowkey fanboying if you sleep on his chest— his heart is BEATING out of his chest you’ll definitely hear it— he mumbles you know how jaemin has that lazy way of speaking— it’s low and soft — his lips brush against the shell of your ear that’s how close you two are— runs his fingertips up and down your spine rlly gently as you tell him about his day— too tired to reply so he just hums— grabs your hand and brings it to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles just before he falls asleep— his eyelashes flutter closed— “n’night y/n”

[honeypiehotchner]

sleepy (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader) || one-shot

This idea has been circling in my brain for two days and tonight I finally wrote it LMAO This is just what my 20 year old virgin ass fantasizes about ok

Summary: Sleepy sex with Aaron. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Warnings: smut (obvi), cockwarming (while asleep), I think that’s it

It’s almost midnight when Aaron feels you crawling into bed beside him.

You’ve been up late nearly every night this week, working on a big project because the deadline is approaching faster than you’d like. You feel incredibly guilty about it, and Aaron knows this even though you haven’t voiced it.

He has early mornings which means early nights, so you practically spend no time with him at all when you have late nights like this — because by the time he’s waking up for work, you’re just barely entering deep sleep.

You try your hardest not to move too much as you get into bed, not wanting to wake him, which is stupid. He’s the lightest sleeper you’ve ever known, for good reason, too, but still.

He hasn’t told you this, but he never does fall deeply asleep until he feels you next to him. Sure, he dozes because he’s exhausted before you come in, but he never truly drifts off until he hears your soft breathing evening out.

Tonight, though, your breathing doesn’t even out and it’s been thirty minutes since you got in bed.

Aaron peels his eyes open to find you looking right at him. You smile softly, realizing you’ve been caught.

“Hi,” you whisper, scooting closer to give him a kiss on the lips. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he says, but you know you did. “C’mere. You’re stressed out. What’s wrong?”

You chuckle at his subtle profiling, but you curl into his side anyway. “Just feel like I have a lot more to do than I have time for.” You pause, burying your face in his shoulder. “And I miss you.”

“I miss you too, honey,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow. We’ll go out.”

You sigh. “I don’t know, I have—”

“You need a break from it,” he interrupts gently. “A two hour break to go get dinner won’t kill you. You’ll finish on time.”

“You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure,” he replies, but it isn’t snarky, it’s comforting. He knows that sometimes you need reassurance from someone other than yourself.

“Okay,” you exhale, stretching your legs and arms, releasing some tension hiding in your muscles. And then, to get even more comfortable, you raise your left leg and hitch it over his hips, pulling him closer.

“Really?” He laughs, his arm tightening around you. “Comfy?”

“Mhm,” you hum, kissing his neck a few times. “You smell good. Did you use the new soap I bought?”

“Yeah,” he replies breathily. “You need to sleep.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re making me hard.”

“Aaron!” Your laughter bubbles out of your chest so fast that you giggle like a child. “Fine, maybe you caught me.”

He hums, but you don’t stop kissing his neck. His eyes slip closed, enjoying the gentle touches. You want to be closer, though, so you slide on top of him, your chest pressed against his as your lips hover over his.

He opens his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

You grin, lowering your lips to kiss him, and you’ve won him over. His arms circle your waist, tugging you closer, tighter against his body as his lips quickly dominate yours — not that it’s hard for him to. You submit willingly, always loving the way he devours you so easily, making you his with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth.

Before long you’re grinding your core against him, swallowing his groans, grinning when his hands find their way to your hips, pressing you down harder.

“Fuck me,” you whine. “Please.”

“Needy,” he tuts, but he’s too far gone to bother with anything else.

He slides his shorts off and you jump out of excitement when you feel his cock against your leg. You pull your panties to the side, too impatient to try taking them off and he guides himself in, gasping when he feels how wet you are already.

“Were you thinking about this, sweet girl?” He groans, gripping your hips tightly as you lower yourself down all the way.

“Always am,” you exhale shakily, resting your forehead against his chest. “Shit.” He always fills you perfectly, stretches you so well, you’ll never get over it. He’s always so deep, every time you swear he’s deeper than the last.

He fucks you slow and sweet, cradling you in his chest, shushing your whines when he adjusts, going even deeper than before.

Your first orgasm is small, relaxing, and he slows his pace while you calm down from the high. But before you can relax too much, he readjusts once more, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, gasp for air.

“Breathe, honey,” he says gently, as if he isn’t fucking you into oblivion every time he hits that spot.

You drop your face into his neck, breathing deeply, circling your hips when he’s all in, a broken sob creeping up your throat at how amazing it feels.

The second orgasm that breaks through you makes Aaron see stars with how hard you’re squeezing him, and all it takes is one more thrust into your quivering heat before he spills inside you.

Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen at the feeling of his release, and Aaron is mesmerized every time he hears the shuddering breath you let out.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his middle, snuggling in.

“Goodnight?” He chuckles, still breathless. “Are you sleeping here?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he accepts it. “Let me—”

“No,” you whine, pushing your hips down. “Stay.”

“Honey—”

“Please?”

Aaron sighs, knowing he can’t and won’t ever argue with you when you sound this sleepy and soft. “Okay, honey. Goodnight.”

“N’night,” you whisper, shifting closer, as if that’s possible.

But when he hears your breathing even out as you drift peacefully off to sleep, Aaron swears he falls even more in love.

[boytouya]

i was gonna write one more oneshot but maybe later,,,,for now n’night everyone !!

[space-helen]

Communication

Words: 1001

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve gets angry at the team after an away mission and comes to see you after to apologize

A/N: Had serious writing block for a while so I’m sorry if this isn’t too great. requests are still open :) Hope you enjoy!

Request: Ok, prompts: 28, 52, 109 with Steve x reader? 😄😉  28: “ I thought we were family!” 52: “ Can we cuddle? ” 109: “ Why are you naked? ” - @ha-tep

________________________

The Jet was cold, not only because of the weather but because of the atmosphere and tension, you could literally cut the air with a knife. You looked around at the others and quickly assessed their conditions. Everyone looked like shit, bruises and small scrapes over all of them. Nat had obviously badly hurt her arm, clutching it to her chest and Tony was completely spaced out. The others were in similar conditions. 

You scooted over to the inside seat closest to the window, wincing as you abdomen hurt, probably some bruising there. Curling up you shivered, your suit really not helping keep you warm at all. Usually your boyfriend Steve would cuddle with you on the flight home but this time he wasn’t with you. You knew he was mad, he hadn’t left the cockpit yet and everyone was on edge waiting for the impending speech he was going to make.

You looked out the window and kept your mind occupied before you heard footsteps. Looking over the seats you saw Steve standing in the middle of the rows. “What was that today?” he questioned everyone tucking his thumbs into his belt. No one answered. “Well it was stupid, that’s what it was. You all acted selfishly and put yourselves and each other at risk. If people’s comms fail we’re supposed to find and help them, so everyone has some form of contact with each other. Yet no one did this. You all went to head first into the situation and we only barely were able to achieve what we set out to do.”

You knew he was talking about how your comms stopped working mid-mission. It wasn’t anyone's fault. You’d taken a hit, your Comms fell out and got damaged there was nothing anyone could have done. You carried on trying to defend the front of the complex while the others were inside and no one came out to help or check on you, you didn’t hold it against them though. Steve was tasked with Clint to grab files from the basement, Nat and Thor were tasked to collect all the private/sensitive data from the computers in the facility and Tony was hacking into the facilities security system which meant no one could have come out front to help you.

“It’s not our fault that there were more people in the facility that expected,” Tony spoke.

“No. But we should have been prepared for it.” Steve spoke angrily “I knew we should have brought more people with us.” he said under his breath, probably referring to Bruce and Bucky who he’s told to stay behind on this one. “I’m not having this argument with you all now. You know we’re supposed to work together and as a team, communication is key. We’re supposed to look after and care about each other. After All, I thought we were family!” The man's voice had gradually become louder until he practically screamed the last sentence.

You jumped slightly you’d never heard Steve that angry before. Looking up to meet eyes with the man he gave you a sorry look before he turned and sat away from everyone. The jet fell into silence for the rest of the journey home.

Exhausted you walked through the tower to your room, usually, you would go to Steve’s but you thought it would be easier to leave him be, he probably wanted to be alone. Getting to your room you quickly stripped off your clothes and headed straight for the shower.

Exiting the shower you realized you’d forgotten a towel. Walking out of the bathroom you headed straight to your dresser where a towel was set before a small knock on your door caught your attention before you knew it the person on the other side had opened it. You let out a squeal before quickly picking up the blanket from the bottom of your bed and covered yourself with it, looking up to see Steve quickly shut the door behind him. “Why are you naked?”

You blushed and continued to walk towards the towel, quickly swapping it for the blanket. “I forgot a towel and just got out of the shower.” the man nodded before moving to sit on the bottom of the bed. Watching you as you dry yourself off and changed into some pajamas. “You’re rather quiet,” you spoke as you brushed your hair.

“I just … is everything ok? I mean between us, you normally come to my room and today you practically ran away,” he spoke quietly

Moving over to the man you placed a hand on his cheek as he leant into it. “Everything’s fine Steve, I just thought you might want some space. I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

He nodded “I’m sorry if I scared you.” he paused, “No one thought to come to check on you, I pleaded with them over comms but no one did and it scared me not knowing if you were ok or not. I came to you as soon as I could but I had to hold the guard off of clint while he grabbed the files.”

“It’s ok I understand. Everyone was preoccupied it’s no one’s fault.” the two of you fell into silence as you lowered your forehead to his.

“Can we cuddle for a bit?” Steve asked, breaking the silence. Nodding the two of you moved from the bottom of the bed, Steve lay down and you crawled into bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped you in his arms. “I love you Y/N and I’m so sorry about today,” he said giving you a squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it. I love you too.”

Steve grabbed the covers and flicked them over the two of you before leaning down and placing a kiss to your hair. You smiled before moving your lips up to his and giving him a soft kiss. “N’night.” you spoke feeling his grip tighten.

“Goodnight Sweetheart.”

Tag List: (open)

Steve Rogers x reader: @capsiclesdoll @geek-and-proud

[bohemian-rhapsody-slash]

Happy BoRhapsoversary! Have a good flight and enjoy your holiday! How about some IBTYF moments - a first holiday and/or a second honeymoon?

1976

“Pretty!”

Andrew holds up a small sea shell between his tiny fingers, waving it proudly in the air as he waddles across the stony beach towards John.

“That is very pretty,” John agrees with a warm smile. “Why don’t you put it in your bucket?”

Andrew drops the shell clumsily into his tiny plastic bucket, before waddling off in search of more treasures.

“That boy is going to be knackered tonight,” Freddie chuckles, wrapping an arm around John’s waist as they stroll up the beach behind their son. “He can’t sit still for a second.”

“It’s your fault for letting him eat all that ice cream.” John kisses Freddie’s jaw. “He’s got too much energy.”

Freddie smiles warmly. “Where do you want to go for dinner tonight? I was thinking that pub down the road from our cottage looks nice.”

John bites his lip. “It does, but I think they have a no clothing policy for subs.”

“Not there then.” Freddie kisses John’s head. “We’ll find somewhere more sub-friendly. Maybe we should treat Andy to fish and chips for the first time? As it is his first holiday.”

“First holiday?” John raises an eyebrow. “What about Ridge Farm?”

“That doesn’t count! We were working most of the time, and Brian and Roger were there-“

“Daaaaddyyyy!!!”

Andrew taps his spade against his bucket impatiently, and Freddie chuckles as he gives John a quick kiss before racing towards their son to gently tackle the giggling boy to the ground.

*****

1982

John cradles the phone between his cheek and shoulder, keeping his hands firmly on Freddie’s shoulders to keep his Dom away until he’s at least had a chance to finish the call.

“Please tell me you’re eating vegetables with your dinner every night,” John says into the phone, trying to keep a straight face as he swats away Freddie’s hand which is currently wandering up his thigh.

“Yes, mummy,” Andrew says proudly on the other side of the phone. “Lots of carrots and broccoli.”

“That’s good. Can you put Uncle Roger back on the phone please? We’ll call again tomorrow.”

“Okay. N’night mummy!”

“Night night, sweetheart.”

There’s a fumbling on the other end of the phone, and then Roger’s voice filters through.

“He was telling the truth, you know. Bri and I have been giving them both lots of vegetables.”

John smiles, trying to ignore the fact that his Dom is now kissing his calves. “Thanks, Rog. Is George in bed?”

“Yeah, he went to sleep about half an hour ago. I’ll put Andy to bed in a bit. Now stop worrying and go and enjoy some incredible sex with your Dom. You’re in Hawaii, for God’s sake, so forget about what’s going on here and let Freddie screw you-“

“I do hope Andy has left the room.”

“Yeah, he’s gone. Just enjoy yourself, Deaks. The kids are fine.”

John rolls his eyes when he realises he can’t hold Freddie back any longer, and is now attacking John’s neck with his lips.

“Alright,” John laughs. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He hangs up the phone and clumsily puts it back on the hook as Freddie hungrily frees him from his dressing gown.

“Freddie,” John sighs, threading his fingers through the older man’s hair as Freddie’s lips latch onto his nipple. “Master.”

“Beloved,” Freddie grins. “We both love our children, but no more thinking about home now for the next thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” John chuckles. “You certainly do think a lot of yourself.”

“I mean it, John. I don’t want you focusing on anything other than your own pleasure. Consider that an order from your Dom. Besides, you said yourself that our ten year anniversary would be the perfect opportunity to make another baby.”

“I was joking.” John’s ears turn red, because that’s not exactly the truth.

Freddie just smiles. “Of course you were. Now can we please get on with it? If we start now, we might be able to have another go before dinner.”

John pulls his Dom into a kiss. “Sounds perfect.”

[mageicalwishes]

Crying In My Prom Dress - Chapter 2

Read on AO3: here 

Read the previous chapter: here 

Summary:  The Leaver’s Ball marks the end of the school year. The end of their time at Watford. Baz has a confession to make before it’s too late. But, will he ever pluck up the courage to tell Simon how he feels? Inspired by the song “Prom Dress” by Mxmtoon.

Chapter: 2/7

Words: 4,046

Baz

I’m at my desk, trying (and failing) to concentrate on my Greek essay, when Snow storms into the room. I haven’t seen him since earlier on the balcony. After what Bunce had said, I couldn’t face going to dinner. My mind was racing. It still is. “What’s ruffled your feathers, Snow?” I goad. “What are you doing? Why weren’t you at dinner?” he gruffs. “I’m studying, Snow. You should try it sometime, maybe then you wouldn’t be so hopeless” Again with the insults. I don’t really mean it of course, he’s the furthest thing from hopeless. Simon Snow is the most powerful magician alive. He probably has more magic in his little finger than I have in my whole body. He’s so strong, but even he is bound to struggle controlling all of that raw energy . “You’re such a prick,” he snarls, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. I should apologise. I want to apologise - but I’ve set a precedent. No apologies. If I took it back now, he’d just wonder why. He’d probably suspect it’s part of some grand scheme I’d devised to kill him (I don’t want to kill him). I doubt he’s perceptive enough to realise the truth. Either way, I still need to keep up my act - Better safe than sorry.  Perhaps I should just tell him? Bunce thinks I have a chance. Maybe she’s right. She thinks that Snow and Wellbelove aren’t right for each other. I’ve always thought that - but that’s just because I’m jealous. I doubt she's jealous, everyone knows she’s got a “thing” for that American exchange. Does he really feel the same? There is a chance he may. Admittedly, a very minute chance - but a chance nonetheless.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snow is tossing and turning. I’m shrouded in the scent of his magic - all smoke and fire. It’s intoxicating. I’ve been waiting for him to fall asleep for at least two hours now, as I desperately need to go down to the catacombs and feed. With everything he’s been through, Snow has never been the most peaceful sleeper. He’s always been plagued with nightmares. I’ve even had to resort to casting “Sweet Dreams” on him a few times - it’s painful watching him when they get bad. Writhing around, pleading in his sleep. I’d do anything to make them stop. I’m sparing with the sleep spells, though. I don’t want him to get suspicious. He can’t know how painfully soft I am when it comes to him. Despite all of this, he doesn’t usually struggle falling asleep. Something must be troubling him.

“What’s wrong, Snow? The Mage making you do his bidding again?” I tease. He just scoffs quietly in response, and then room falls back into silence. I look over at him - his curls are splayed in a mess against his pillow and he has his back to me. Suddenly, he whips his body round to face mine, his duvet tangling around his legs. I don’t know whether he can see me in the dark. I can always see him - but the whole vampire thing is a bit of an advantage in that respect.

“You’re proper posh aren’t you, Baz? he asks, his voice heavy with tiredness. I can’t help but snicker. “Shut up. I just - I just mean you’ve been to balls and stuff like that before, right?”

“Yes. I’ve been to a few,” I reply, hesitantly. Why on earth is Snow asking me about this right now? Is that seriously what’s been keeping him up, whether or not I’ve been to a dance before? He huffs. Snow’s always huffing and puffing - he’s never been the best with words.

“It’s just - I was wondering if you would help me? I know you don’t really like me and stuff, but I need help." Truth is - I’d do anything for him. As I said, I’m incredibly soft when it comes to Snow.

“Help you with what?” I ask.

“Dancing,” he answers plainly (as if asking your enemy for dancing lessons isn’t even remotely strange).

“Dancing?”

“Yeah. You know, moving around to music.”

“I know what dancing is, Snow,” I deadpan. “I mean, why are you asking me to help? Last I heard, you were under Wellbelove’s expert tutelage.”

“I was,” he grumbles “She got mad at me ‘cause I scuffed her boots. She says she doesn’t want to help anymore. I asked Penny, but she doesn’t know how to dance either. I just figured you would know. I can help you with something back if you want. Please, Baz.” Merlin and Morgana. How could I refuse that. I should say no, but I’m weak.

“Okay. You don’t need to help me back, though.”

“You’ll help me?” he says, disbelieving.

“That’s what I just said. Do you need a hearing test, Snow?”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, Cheers. That’s great,” he says. “But you’re sure you don’t want something back. I could pay you. I mean, I don’t really have any money - I have some leprechaun gold though. You could have some of that. I don't know if you can spend that in any shops though, sorry.” I scoff again, suppressing the smile that is threatening to break across my face.

“That won’t be necessary. Like I said, I don’t need you to give me anything back. Call it a goodbye present.” I feel my throat tighten at the thought. No more Simon. Only nine days together left. Christ. I have to tell him, before it’s too late. I have to do it. He flashes me a soft smile.

“Cheers, Baz. I knew you weren’t all bad,” he murmurs, chuckling softly. I feel my stomach flutter. I’m so far gone.

“It’s no problem, Snow. We wouldn’t want the Chosen One to be bested by a Waltz - that would be horrifically embarrassing. Although, I must warn you, if you scuff my shoes, there will be consequences. I’m not quite as forgiving as Wellbelove.” That earns me a proper smile. He’s beaming across at me now, his dimple popping handsomely. I feel my heart swell within my chest at the sight of him. I wish he always looked at me this way. I wish I didn't have to be his enemy.

“I know, I know. You’ll throw me to the merwolves - blah, blah blah,” he teases, rolling back over to face the wall. “Does tomorrow after tea sound okay?”

I make a vague “Mm” noise in response - not trusting my voice not to waver.

“Okay. Thanks again. N’Night, Baz,” he says, his voice barely a whisper now.

“Goodnight, Snow.” Aleister Crowley - I am in way over my head.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I return from dinner, he’s sat on his bed waiting for me. “Hey,” he says, picking at his thumbs. I think he’s nervous. I know I am. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to agree to this. Generally, I’d consider myself to be an intelligent person - but agreeing to dance with Snow was definitely incomprehensibly stupid. 

“Good Evening, Snow. Shall we get this over with? I reply, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant. I definitely sound tense. I feel tense - How could I not? I’m almost certainly going to cock this up. Not the dancing, I’m actually fairly good at that (thanks to Daphne insisting that I take dancing lessons at the weekends all throughout primary school). Snow may be oblivious, but (despite my best efforts) I’m not actually unreadable. Bunce saw right through me. If I'm dancing with him, holding him like that, something is sure to slip. Knowing my luck, I’ll probably pop a boner or something mortifying like that.

“Sure thing,” he says, raking a hand through his curls. “There’s a storage room we can use. More room in there. I’d probably just end up smashing one of our lamps if we stay here. Is that okay?”

“Certainly. Lead the way”, I say gesturing towards the door.

I cast a quick “You shall not pass” on the door as I close it behind us. If somebody walked in on us, I’m not sure how I could feasibly explain what we are about to do. The storage room was clearly abandoned long ago. Cobwebs have taken over nearly every available surface. While I’m not necessarily phased by the cobwebs, I cast a “Clean as a Whistle” spell for good measure (I’d rather not have to rewash my blazer after we’re done). When I turn around, Snow is staring at me blankly. Honestly, I think he forgets he’s a mage half the time. He could do these spells too, if he wanted.

“How should we start then?” he asks.

“Well, I presume you want to lead. Correct?”

“Lead?” he asks, tilting his head confusion. I sigh, kneading my knuckles against my brow bone.

“Did Wellbelove teach you anything? Lead the dance, Snow.  If it helps, generally speaking, the guy leads and the girl follows.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah I want to lead, then. I don’t think Agatha would want to do it the other way,” he bumbles.

“Okay then,” I say, taking a deep breath. My pulse is racing. I need to pull myself together. I mutter an “If music be the food of love, play on” spell under my breath - I can’t have Snow overhearing that. A lot of Shakespeare spells only work if you’re in love, this particular one is no exception to that trend. The room fills with the soft melody of violins, and I take a step towards him. We’re barely thirty centimetres apart now. We’ve never been this close - not when we aren’t fighting. “Okay, so. The lead typically places one hand on their partner’s shoulder and the other in their hand,” I say, holding out my right hand in offering. I’m playing with fire here - I’m sure I’m going to get burnt.

“Sure, cool.” He slips his left hand into mine and laces our fingers together loosely. His hands are rougher than mine, calloused slightly, and ever so warm. Snow’s all heat - he’s so alive . He smiles up at me slightly and I dart my eyes down towards the floor. I can’t look at him right now. Not when he’s this close. My eyes would almost certainly betray me - like I said, even I’m not un readable. Hesitantly, he reaches up and slides his other hand over my shoulder, tugging me impossibly closer as he does. I've wanted this for so long. I hold my breath - somehow, I'm afraid that if I don't, I'll shatter this fragile moment and scare him away from me. His touch is electric and I’m a live wire. I feel it radiating through every cell in my body - lighting me up from within. Together we’re a complete circuit, and I’m electrified. I’m alive. I wonder, does he feel it too?

I clear my throat, bringing myself back down to reality. “Alright then, Snow. We will start off with the basic steps. It’s really very simple, even you should be able to manage. Just listen to what I tell you and try to move in time with the music, okay?”

“Uh yeah. Sounds good,” he mumbles, shifting his hand within mine slightly.

“Okay. All you need to do is a basic box step following a three-count tempo,” I explain. I risk looking up at him again. He’s staring at me blankly, his mouth scrunched up to the side in confusion. Honestly, I’m not convinced Wellbelove tried at all. I sigh. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. “You’re a certified moron, Snow.”

“Yeah? And you're a twat,” he grumbles. I gaze back down at my shoes.

“Just - Just take a step forward with your left foot.” He goes to move his right foot - Honestly, this boy is impossible. “I said your left foot. Are you brain-dead?”. He doesn’t respond to that, but he corrects himself and steps his left foot forward. “Good, that’s what you do on the first beat of the tempo. Next, take a step forward and to the side with your right foot. That’s what you do on the second beat of the tempo” He obliges, stepping sideways clumsily. “Acceptable. Now all you need to do is move your right foot back to meet your left one. Even you can’t cock that up.” He follows my instruction and chuckles quietly to himself when he's finished. “There you go, Snow. Now all we have to do today is get to the point where you can do that - except actually in time to the music and not so fragmented.”

“Okay. Thanks, Baz. With your help I’ll be a dance master in no time. You’re a much better teacher than Aggie,” he said, squeezing my hand gently. Oh no. I think I’m blushing. Curse him and his bloody hand holding. I can feel his eyes boring into me - I refuse to meet them still. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let him get so close. I’m going to give myself away. I take a deep breath, desperately trying to myself.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re far from an expert. And, while I appreciate your attempt at flattery, my threat still stands - do not scuff my shoes or there will be hell to pay.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We’ve been dancing for at least an hour now. Simon really can’t dance - he has all the natural rhythm of a lump of granite. But he’s trying. I’ve done my best to keep my gaze on the floor, but occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of him subconsciously poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth (he tends to do that when he’s concentrating). It was painfully cute - the sight of him practically made me melt. We haven’t spoken much (bar the occasional insult or instruction), but every so often he’d smile up at me or give my hand a quick squeeze. I wish he wouldn’t. Well ... That’s not exactly true. I’d gladly take anything Snow is willing to give me. Every smile. Every squeeze. He's setting my body on fire, and it burns in the best possible way. But, it’s not what I want - not really. I crave more. And, these small concessions aren’t satiating me - they’re only making me hungrier. Hungrier for him. I want everything Snow has to give. His body. His heart. His mind. His soul. Everything. But, that’s not what we are. Despite this strange dance lesson truce, we’re still enemies (of sorts). We’re moving slowly around the room when he blunders - badly (taking a step forwards rather than backwards). Our foreheads collide with a loud thud, sending Snow falling backwards onto the stone floor, and dragging me down with him.

I’m laying on top of him now - our bodies pressed humiliatingly tight together. Our eyes meet. His pupils are blown so wide there is hardly any blue left, and his eyes are practically popping out of his skull with the shock of it all. He’s staring up at me, his mouth hanging open uselessly. This is mortifying. And it's all his bloody fault - the blithering idiot. My pulse has skyrocketed, and I can feel my heart hammering relentlessly against my chest. And that's when I feel it - my blood rushing downwards. Alesteir Crowley. This is not happening. Just stake me now. I leap up off of him as quickly as I can manage, and storm over to the door. “Lesson over,” I shout, swinging it open violently. I cast a quick “Silence in the library” bringing the soft music to an abrupt stop, and charge out of the room. I hear him call out to me behind me, but I refuse to turn back. I knew I was playing with fire. I knew I was going to get burnt - Yet I did it anyway. And now, here we are. I’ve ruined everything.

Simon

Fuck! Agatha was right, I am a hopeless dancer. I thought it was going well with Baz, as well. I much prefer dancing with him - He’s a far better teacher. It was actually fun with him. And now I’ve ruined everything. Typical . When I asked, I didn’t expect him to say yes - But then he did. I was so excited. I knew I’d probably mess it up somehow. I’m a walking disaster - it was bound to happen. I didn’t mean to make us fall. I just got a bit distracted (I was trying to figure out what he was staring at on the floor). Now I’ve upset him. He didn’t even seem angry - just frightened? I don't know why Baz would be afraid of me, but he bolted out of that room pretty much as fast as humanly possible. I must’ve made him uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to do that - He was doing me a favour. I didn’t mean to ruin it. There is no way he’s going to want to help me now. I want him to help me. I want to keep dancing with Baz. It felt good. But, now I've managed to screw it all up. Fuck, I'm such a moron. 

I sit up, pulling my knees towards my chest. My magic is bubbling dangerously close to the surface, rolling angrily within my veins. I need to calm down, otherwise I'll end up going off again. Nobody wants that. My throat feels really tight. I think I might cry - my eyes are prickling weirdly. I won’t cry. I don’t normally cry, even when it feels like I might. Not since I was little, anyway. The last time, one of the care home boys had stolen my ball while I was asleep. I bawled my eyes out when I realised it was missing. I was like ten though, so it's forgivable - I'd never cry like that now (The Mage would just tell me I need to strengthen up, if I did).  It doesn’t even really matter about the dancing - I only wanted to learn how because Agatha told me I should and I really didn’t want to embarrass her. I always feel like I’m embarrassing her. She’s so refined, and I’m so … Well, I’m just not. Baz is refined. They’re similar in that way. Baz is different in a lot of ways too though. Anyway, I don’t think it’s the dancing that’s upsetting me. I think I’m upset because I’ve upset him. I’ve made Baz angry before - I have the scars from our numerous childhood scrapes to prove it. That's familiar - that's all part of our game. That doesn't make me feel like this. I’ve never made him sad before, though. Well, not that I’m aware of - maybe I have (we haven’t always been the nicest to one another). I need to fix this. I’m just not sure how. Me and Baz don’t really talk all that much. But, we also didn’t hold each other’s hand or dance together until today - That change wasn’t so bad. So, maybe we could start.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I get back to the room, Baz is sat on his bed reading a book. It had been about an hour since the whole dancing fiasco - I stopped off at the kitchens on my way back here. I tend to eat when I’m tense. Penny says I need to find a more healthy “coping mechanism”, but I don’t really see the problem with it. He glances up at me, assessing me with a cool gaze, before looking back down at his book. He doesn't seem too bothered about me being back. The room smells of his fancy shower gel and his hair is slightly damp - He must’ve had a shower while I was gone. I’m still standing awkwardly just inside our doorway. I probably should've gone and sat on my bed - That would've been more normal. "Hey,” I say, nervously tapping my fingers against my thigh. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look up at me. I should’ve known he'd try to make this as difficult for me as possible - He can be such a prick sometimes. I scrape my fingers through my hair. I don’t really know what to do now. I sort of assumed he’d at least answer me (he doesn’t often turn down an opportunity to insult me). Shit. I must’ve really upset him. “I didn’t mean to - you know. I didn’t mean to pull you over. It was an accident. And I’m really really sorry. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something. Can we? You know can we still do it tomorrow? The dancing lessons I mean.” This time he puts the book down. He looks up at me, an elegant eyebrow raised in question. I continue talking. I don't really know why, I can't seem to stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “I just mean that today was really fun. Well, you know - until I messed it up. But if you still wanted to, I’d really like to do it again tomorrow. You don’t have to say yes. Obviously. But it would be cool if you did. And I promise next time I fall I’ll make sure I let go of you first. Well ... I can't really promise that. But, I promise I’ll try to.” I stop, holding my arms across my body awkwardly. I don’t really know what else I can say to convince him. Maybe this was a stupid idea - I am prone to those.

Baz

Mercifully, it seems as though Snow is blissfully unaware of the reason behind my sudden departure. He’d definitely be a lot more freaked out right now if he had realised. Thank Crowley for his seemingly endless incognizance. I’ve at least managed to retain some of my dignity then - That’s good. But, Snow actually had fun today. I mean, I did too (obviously)- underneath all the stress of trying to remain outwardly unbothered by our physical proximity. However, I suspect we enjoyed it for rather different reasons. But, in spite of all the weirdness today, Snow wants to do this again. And really, who am I to deny him? Given ... how I feel, there are certainly worse things I could be doing than dancing with Snow. Honestly, it’s a delightful sort of torture - holding him so close, while a thousand unsaid words separate us still. I want this, and (for whatever reason) he wants this too. I can’t be certain he feels the same way I do. Bunce said she didn’t think he realised it himself. If he isn’t sure himself, how can I be? The only way to find out is to tell him. I want to. I need to - I can’t leave Watford never knowing. It would torture me. Alas, I’m unsure I’m courageous enough to take that risk. As such, this may be all I’ll ever get with Snow. Why deny myself what little I have? It can’t possibly go worse than it already has. “Okay, Snow,” I concede, ensuring my tone remains indifferent. “Same time tomorrow. After dinner.” His face cracks into a bright smile at that.

“Brilliant. Thanks, Baz. I really am sorry about today - I promise tomorrow will be better. You’re amazing … You know, for helping me out and everything. Thanks so much.”

Simon

Why did I say that? I need to calm down - I’m going to freak him out. I don’t know why it feels so important to me that he agreed. I mean, I liked dancing with Baz today (obviously) It felt different. I liked holding him. Not in a weird way, it’s just when he’s with me he’s not out there planning my demise. He’s right where I want him. I mean it’s just dancing, I’ve danced with other people before. Last Christmas Eve, I danced with Agatha and Mrs Wellbelove (not very well, I didn’t do any proper steps like today - but it still counts). It feels different with Baz, though. I don’t know why. He’s just a good teacher, I suppose. I don’t feel as awkward dancing with him as I do with Agatha and her mum. It feels right, somehow. Baz is the last person I’d expect to like dancing with. I mean he’s evil. Well, not really evil - But he’s a vampire. And he’s always plotting (he’s wicked smart). But, I definitely like this better than fighting. 

[atlantis-prince]

//I need to sleep due to having to be up early for work tomorrow so! n’night!

[dearhangyul]

n’night 

[heroibxs-blog]

Sero fell asleep on mina..mind been a long night

Mina just smiles at the sleeping loser next to her and quickly drags a blanket over the both of them before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “N’night, Sero~”

@mrserophane

[gr-ogu]

i hate tumblr mobile it doesn’t work AT ALL and nothing ever loads properly alskdjhfkds. not to mention the random shut downs and inability to perform basic functions..........