#this was inspired by me dancing around my room and my partner watching me with mild amusement

[blitzendoggo]

Slice of Life

Just a slice of life from the Eldritch Gays.

Callisto/Prophis (1180 words)

~~

Callisto was tired. He had sat through no less than ten meetings about restructuring Symetris and he was ready to just be home with his freshly married husband.

With an exhausted sigh, he teleports into their living room, expecting to see Prophis sitting in his armchair, but his husband is not even in the room.

The human does a quick scan of the room and sees Prophis' book lying on the seat, the bookmark several pages forward in the book, and an empty mug sitting on the side table. Callisto carefully picks up the mug and turns it over in his hands. It's a simple brown clay mug with poorly drawn flowers littering it and the mug itself is lopsided and poorly constructed. It would have been thrown out as trash, but this is Prophis' favorite mug.

Callisto smiles distantly as he thinks about the night that he made this mug with Prophis. It was far before the rift had happened and they had only just begun dating. The blond had the idea of doing a crafty date. Callisto was head-over-heels for Prophis and completely powerless to object -despite his general inability to do anything creative. He had made the mug -with Prophis' help, clearly- and had nervously given it to his then-boyfriend as a gift. He expected Prophis to put the ugly thing on a shelf, but it quickly became his favorite mug to drink anything from. Tea, coffee, water, never mattered to him.

After the Rift, it became Callisto's favorite mug, just as all of Prophis' favorite things became his favorites as well. His favorite mug became something for Callisto to drink from as he mourned his husband while he wore his husband's favorite shirt -which he hadn't taken off in days- and read his favorite book -a sappy romance that Callisto had never seen the appeal in but simply could not put it down even if it was his third read through.

He's pulled out of memory lane by the sound of muffled music. It's upbeat dance music that the man doesn't recognize as he follows the sound into the kitchen. Prophis, long white hair tied back in a messy bun, is dancing around the kitchen, singing, albeit poorly, along to the song.

The music is admittedly not Callisto's type, he prefers more classical-sounding music, but since Prophis' return, the elf's been obsessed with the more recent trends in music. He adores the upbeat nature of it and smiles every time any of the songs comes on.

Callisto notices that he must be cooking something as there are a number of ingredients scattered across the countertops and Prophis himself is dusted in flour and sugar and there appears to be chocolate streaked in his white hair.

The human watches from the doorway as his husband dances and spins, singing almost in key with the song. Somehow the Chaos God has yet to notice his husband as he returns to the oven and pulls out something that smells heavenly.

"Perfect!" Prophis says happily, hips still swinging side-to-side as he places it on the countertop. "Now I just need to taste-test the tea." Humming along to the music, Prophis blindly reaches for something to his left but finds nothing. He turns to look at the empty space and "hmphs" irritatedly as he starts to brush the powder off himself. "Must've left it in the living room- shit!" he yelps as he turns around and spots Callisto, dressed in his dark robes leaning against the doorway.

"Hello, love," Callisto says with a lopsided smile. "Did I scare you?"

The elf takes a moment to regain his composure before quickly and breathily saying, "Oh, just a little." He takes a deep breath, grounding himself, before walking over to his husband and giving him a kiss and melting into his arms. "How was work?"

"Awful, I don't think Doc breathed for the last two hours," Callisto laments as he holds onto Prophis, kissing his cheek before dropping his head to rest on Prophis' shoulder.

"Doc breathes?" Prophis counters feigning bewilderment.

Callisto pulls back and gives his husband a defeated look. "I'm beginning to question it."

Prophis barks a laugh. "I'm sorry, love," he comforts before his face lights up. "I made something for you!"

"Is it the thing you pulled out of the oven?" Callisto asks.

The elf stares at him for a moment before realization slowly dawns on his face. "How long were you standing there?" he asks slowly as the tips of his ears slowly turn pink.

"Long enough to see you dancing around the kitchen with chocolate in your hair," Callisto teases lovingly as he reaches up and wipes as much of the chocolatey goop up as he can. Prophis turns a brighter shade of red as the human pops the finger in his mouth. "It's quite good. What did you make?"

Prophis lights back up. "Oh, chocolate croissants!"

"Really now? Any reason why?" Callisto questions as he admires Prophis' smile, one of his favorite sights in all of Vontral and the eight realms.

"You had a long day of meetings and Doc ramblings," Prophis reasons, "And I know you like them."

Callisto smiles at his husband. "I certainly do like them, my dear."

Prophis kisses his cheek as he steps back. "I also made tea. I was going to taste-test it, but I left my mug in the other room."

"Do you mean this one?" Callisto holds out his husband's cup who stares at it for a moment before tentatively taking it from the human's hands.

"I still can't believe you kept this for seven hundred years," Prophis says quietly as he admires the subpar craftsmanship like it was handmade by the sculptors of old.

"It was your favorite, Gods know why, that thing is uglier than Glib, but it was still your favorite so I had to keep it for when you came back," Callisto explains easily and for the dozenth time since his husband has returned.

Prophis stares at the mug for another moment, turning it in his hands before looking up at the human with an amount of love that is not foreign to the elf's face, but nearly knocks him off his feet every time Callisto sees it. "I love it because the man I love made it for me."

They sit in a shared silence, both of them still, as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter the peace of it, only for the whistle of the kettle to startle them both.

Callisto glares at it as if it had murdered his family which only causes his husband to titter out a laugh.

"Tea's ready," Prophis says, walking swiftly over to take the pot off the eye and pouring the hot liquid into his mug, and getting another mug from the cabinet next to him and pouring some tea into it. "Here," he says as he hands the secondary cup to his husband.

"Thank you, my love," Callisto says as he takes the swiftly warming cup from Prophis.

"Anything for you," Prophis smiles.

[caprisunnydays]

Stardew Valley x Reader Bachelor Headcanons

Alex

Before you and Alex got together, you probably became long time friends

He was def like "damn they hot" but then when it became more than just that he was like "DAMN THEY'RE HOT"

It's been a bit since he's felt those silly little butterflies, it genuinely makes him nervous

Que him leaning against a wall like "Hey bbg" but he's sweating bullets

After his confession, he feels much better, and the nervous air that only you could really pick up on has disappeared

Very PDA, arm is always around you, probably not in the back pocket but if he's tipsy enough then boom it appears

Insists on going in the mines with you but saw a slime and wanted to dip so bad but you protected him <3

"Heh...I totally wasn't scared. Don't worry babe I'll protect you" nah boy

He feels his heart melt every time he sees you and Evelyn baking together, or her just acting like your grandma

Even George has become a grandpa figure, giving advice with alex or general things

Alex is secretly insecure about himself, but with you, he finds room to grow as a person and find that those worries are unwarranted

Though he doesn't say it often, you make him feel seen, and he truly appreciates that

Elliot

(Personal fav right now so I'm about to go OFF)

If you picked romance for his book he's imagining you both as the main characters

Not a complete parallel because he's like "can't be creepy" but a teensy bit

Speaking of "can't be creepy" he has written multiple sonnets about you since realizing his feelings

Unlike some of the other bachelors, he embraces his feelings more, using his passion to inspire his writing and other endeavors

Heavy on the gifts and courting stuff

Gives you love poems at least once a week he has so many piled up but he doesn't wanna go overboard

Says the sappiest things all the time with this love struck look in his eyes

PRETTIEST MANNNNN

Words of affirmation kinda guy, he's poetic like that

Leah pokes at him for being a simp but mans could not care less he's proud

Picks out pretty sea shells that wash up on the shore and gives them to you, and they're always intact!

Big fan of the flower dance and looks forward to getting to dance with you in front of the entire town! maybe your worst nightmare but he's just happy to show you off (and his dancing skills lol)

Speaking of which, mans is gonna teach you how to waltz and a bunch of other old timey dances

At some point he WILL show up in the pouring rain to profess his love, or give you flowers, or both

You're like "Elliot we're literally dating was this necessary and he's like "OF COURSE MY DEAR"

He'd love heartstopper

Harvey

Insert too sweet by Hozier

Silly little doctor guy tries to avoid you but can't help but be drawn to you

He sees you running around doing your daily tasks, and just watches you from afar from the window of the doctor's office

Maru notices and tells you to come in sometime cuz her boss ain't gonna get nowhere by himself

When you start coming in more often he can feel himself die of embarrassment when he fails to make interesting conversation

Is very worried about your health though and fusses when you pass out in the mines/street

He gets even more adamant about you taking care of yourself once he's confessed

Way less nervous though!

Looks at you with adoration eyes when you do anything

Tipsy Harvey is a cute Harvey because he starts spilling his guts on how often he thinks of you

Whenever you're not busy with work he appreciates you stopping by the office, just to talk about both of your days

He yaps to everyone about you btw

Doesn't mean to but when someone brings you up he's like "oh yes me and my partner love to-" or "my partner loves-" etc etc

I used to not be a fan but he's such a sweetiepie

Sam

"I just love a guy who plays guitar <3" - u @Sam

That's it

I JEST

Originally he's like "hey come and hang out with me, Sebastian, and Abigail"

Then you start coming over and it's just you both alone

He's not creepy about it, just wants to spend time with you one on one

Loves showing you the songs he works on and if you want he'll show you how to play guitar too!

He's also happy with how well you get along with Jodi, always trying to get you both to bond, it makes him feel nice that you feel like you're apart of the family

Once y'all are together he does sneak you in anytime he gets the chance

He'll text you like "come over" You : I've gotta be up at 6am Him : "PLZPLZPLZPLZ-"

OG golden retriever bf

You both go shopping at Joja at 3am for fun and goof off

Or go run around in the forest taking aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos

Sebastian

You can't tell me he's not an arctic monkeys kinda guy so insert R U Mine? By Arctic Monkeys

It took him time to warm up to you

When he did you became one of the few people he could hang out with after a long day of socializing and not feel drained around

I can see him doing things that aren't always super platonic and thinking he wants to do them because

"Platonically" holding your hand, cuddling, etc

At town events he stands all close to you, complaining about how much he hates it, but showing disappointment when you mention leaving

Everyone's like are y'all dating and he goes NO way too fast

When you both finally ARE together though he's actually much less affectionate and public, but it doubles when you're in the comfort of his basement room

Finds the most joy in keeping you trapped in his bed with him until noon when you say you should be working on your farm

Especially in the colder months, then you can also share his mom's pumpkin soup

He's almost catlike with his affection

Another guy you run around and take aesthetically pleasing pintrest photos with, but his are more grunge esk

"Accidentally" leaves his hoodies at your place but he likes seeing you in em

I imagine that the characters have those closets filled with the same outfit, so when you try and give him his stuff back he goes "nah" and whips out his 100th hoodie

Shane

PACK IT UP SAVIOUR COMPLEX I mean what who said that

After you rescue him from the depths of his depressive alcoholism, he feels guilty for having feelings for you

Part of it is because he's like "fuck do I actually like them or is it just cuz they basically saved my life" and partly because it feels painfully stereotypical

Not a lot changes, though he is a lot more open to you then he is with other people, even with Marnie

Helps out with your chickens when he has free time

Talks to them about his problems and once you almost walked in on him ranting about his feelings for you (bro was shook)

But once he's confessed, well, he's still insecure about some things, but accepts your help with stride

Jealous easily, but tries not to show it

Acts of service kinda guy, so if you need him to run an errand while you're swamped with farm work? He's on it

Pulls up to your farm with a bunch of snacks and a bag full of movies for you to pick from

He sets it up while you take a shower to wash all the grime and dirt off from a days work so you can just come and cozy up on the couch with him

You're also basically besties with Jas, such a sweet girl, always asks you to play jump rope with her

You both go "say no to drugs" to her l o l

Marnie is also now your bestie so even when she's not working you can get stuff from the shop #WIN

I loooooove stardew valley it's so cool so great

[notleclerc]

Too Hot

🤍Charles x Fem!Reader

🤍summary: in which the game „Too Hot“ challenges ones desires

🤍warning: getting a little steamy here but nothing to big

🤍a/n: I got inspired by @yuwuta with the JJK version and was like „ok slay lemme try it as well“ // English is not my first language so please have mercy on me🥺

In the heart of Monaco, where the streets echo with the roar of engines and the glitz of the Grand Prix, a different kind of heat simmers beneath the surface. It's not the scorching sun or the adrenaline of racing that sets hearts racing, but a playful game of Too Hot. And amidst the glamorous backdrop, you find yourself entangled in a steamy encounter with none other than Charles Leclerc.

Ever since Lando started to learn how to be a Dj, he‘s been throwing parties left and right, having only VVIP‘s in the club. Models, Actors, Athlete‘s - you name it. Obviously, that means the whole Grid is always welcome to join the fiesta. Charles, being the supportive friend he is, gets ready to dress up and waits for his girlfriend.

Y/n makes sure to wear a beautful red dress. God, that dress could make the devil go weak in his knees. Charles couldn‘t help but admire her.

„Tu es très belle, mon amour“ (you look beautiful my love)

he says, his voice tender with a soft look on his face.

You smile as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, giving yourself a natural blush. You give him a peck on his chin, as you are smaller even in heels.

„Merci Cha“ (thank you)

The two of you leave his appartement and go straight to his oh-so-famous Ferrari, the one that puts everyone in awe of its beauty (or the beauty driving it). The ride was smooth and no words were exchanged as the two of them enjoyed the calm and warmth.

It didn‘t take them long to reach the club, the music already indicating that Charles and Y/n were fashionably late. Charles hands his keys to a valet since he can‘t, for the love of god, park the car right. You tease him about it way too often.

„Et ils disent que les femmes ne peuvent pas se garer“ (and they say women can‘t park)

you say teasingly.

Charles chuckles and places his hand on your waist, guiding you towards the entrance. He made sure to get down to your ear and whispered softly

„Surveille ta bouche ou je le ferai pour toi, bébé“ (watch your mouth or i‘ll do it for you babe)

As you both enter, one with a smirk and the other with flushed cheeks, Lando greets the two of you with a wave from the DJ booth and makes sure to let you both know where the others are.

The party can begin.

As the night unfolds and the party reaches its peak, you catch sight of Charles across the room, his charismatic smile drawing you in like a magnet. You were dancing with the girlfriends of the drivers and having the time of your life. Your pulse quickens as Charles suddendly approaches, his confident stride sending a thrill down your spine.

"Hey there," he greets you with a charming grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Fancy a game of Too Hot?"

You're taken aback by the invitation, but the thrill of the challenge beckons you. "Sure, why not?" you reply, unable to resist the allure of his playful proposal. The two of you love challenges no matter what the situation is.

The rules are simple: two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves, and the first to touch their partner loses. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the game, the tension between you palpable.

As your lips meet in a teasingly tender kiss, the world around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Charles. His touch is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that blazes with each passing moment.

"Tu es un sacré compétiteur“ (You're quite the competitor)

Charles murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

„Mais je n'y vais pas de main morte avec toi, ma petite fleur“ (But I won't go easy on you, my little flower)

he adds playfully.

You respond with a playful challenge of your own, reveling in the thrill of the chase as you dance on the edge of temptation. Each kiss becomes a daring game of brinkmanship, testing the limits of self-control.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in the heated exchange, the boundaries between reality and desire blurring into a tantalizing haze. The world outside ceases to exist as you and Charles become locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to concede defeat.

But as the game reaches its climax, a surge of longing courses through you, threatening to overwhelm your resolve. With a breathless gasp, you instinctively reach out, your hand brushing against Charles's cheek in a moment of unguarded passion.

"Je gagne“ (I win)

he whispers triumphantly, a smug grin playing on his lips as he leans in to claim victory with a searing kiss.

„Je te laisse gagner parce que c'est la seule fois où tu le fais“ (I let you win because that‘s the only time you do)

You teased him again and couldn‘t help but laugh, seeing his baffled face. He puts his hand on your cheeks and squeezes them together. He looks down at me and shakes his head softly with a certain intensity to his eyes.

„Tu veux vraiment jouer à la cochonne avec moi ? Tu sais ce que les sales gosses obtiennent de mon amour.“ (you really want to play dirty with me? You know what brats get my love)

He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he tilted his head.

Ne m'oblige pas à te faire ça, ma belle. (Don‘t make me do it to you sweetcheeks)

He goes back to squeeze your cheeks together and pulls you closer to him with a warning look in his ocean eyes. As the night draws to a close and the party fades into memory, you carry with you the lingering warmth of Charles's touch, a tantalizing reminder of a fiery encounter that ignited sparks in the heart of Monaco.

As for what happens after the party? Only the two of them and maybe the neighbour will know ;).

Now that escalted quickly👀 HAVE MERCY ON ME!! I don‘t know how to write intimate moments aka the humpy dumpty so please take this as a chance to let your mind run freely 🥹

Reblog, comments and likes are aprreciated

[luniarix]

I JUST WANT THE FANTASY…!

synopsis: in which you spend valentine’s day with toji ❤︎ inspired by kali uchi’s “fantasy”！！

NOTE: i finally. figured out. how to do the font color gradient. LESSGOOOO!!! YALL DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HYPED THIS MAKES ME,, but anyway! happy valentine’s day everyoneee ♡ no matter if you’re spending this year on your own, with your friends, or partner, remember to show yourself so much love today and always ₍₍ (̨̡⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)̧̢ ₎₎ ！！ muchos besitos 🩷

CW: fem!reader, poc reader in mind, fluff, non-explicit smut, praising, showers of affection, soft sex, lingerie!!, established relationship, softdom!toji, cream pie, food!play (whipped cream and strawberries hehe), dirty talk, blowjob, self-fingering, cowgirl!position, whipped!toji, whipped!reader,, both of y’all are just madly in love, non-proof read (i will come back later), u get the idea right? right!

valentine’s day with toji!means that as soon as you wake up, you’re greeted with the fresh smell of breakfast. as you’re walking into the kitchen, you’re squealing in surprise as toji picks you up and twirls you around with ease. he shows you to the dining table and pulls your chair out, and brings you your big plate of food; filled with your favorite treats. you look up at him like a child who’s been served their most favorite food ever, and he’s chuckling at the way your eyes twinkle. beautiful, he thinks.

valentine’s day with toji!means that as soon as you’re done eating together, he takes you by the hand and leads you down the hallway of rose petals and into the living room, in which a gigantic teddy bear holding a heart, lots of designer gifts, candy bags, heart balloons, and a sign that says “will you be my valentine?” is waiting for you. you’re looking at him as if he’s crazy, and then you two have a laughing fit as you pull him into a sweet kiss as you nod, whispering a “you know damn well what my answer is, baby.” in between.

valentine’s day with toji!means that you’re watching a favorite comfort movie together, both laughing and cracking jokes every few minutes, and toji is ever so softly drawing circles around your waist as he pulls you in closer; nuzzling his chin on your head and leaving forehead pecks. you tilt your head up to catch his lips against yours, the kiss that was supposed to be innocent and sweet turning into a heated make out session as he holds your face in his big hands, and you’re squeezing his shoulders. your tongues dance against each other, and you gently nibble on his bottom lip as you pull away before it got too hard to do so. you quickly tell him that you’re going to take a bath and then give him the gifts you had gotten for him as well.

valentine’s day with toji!means that when you finish washing your body, you giddily skip over to your closet and pull out the lingerie set you had bought for this occasion a few weeks ago. once you laid your eyes on it, you knew that this was going to be the perfect surprise for him. as you slip it on, you become more and more aroused by the minute. just the thought of toji’s piercing eyes never leaving yours or your body had you going crazy, and you knew that he’d have so much fun taking it off. you spin around in the mirror, very much in love with the way you look, and with a few sprays of perfume, a few final touch ups— you’re out the door on your way back to toji.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once you walk back into the living room, toji’s eyes immediately change into a recognizable carnal expression. your body is covered in goosebumps, nipples perked against the thin lace fabric that barely covers your pretty tits. you place the gifts that you brought out with you to the side and slowly slide yourself onto his lap, gyrating your hips in a salacious manner. you begin to undress toji, starting with his shirt first, while you kiss from his jaw down to his neck, sucking a little harder on his sweet spot. he's kneading at your hips and ass, grinding his erection against your clothed cunt. you're moaning in delight as you leave a trail of hickeys down to his tatted chest, all while you feel toji slipping off the straps of your lingerie.

valentine’s day with toji!means that he's reaching for the whipped cream and a small bowl of strawberries from the living room table (that you hadn't even noticed were there) with a cheeky grin, and you know what was about to go down. toji's quick to have your tiddies out, as he places swirls of whipped cream on your nipples, dipping the strawberries into the cream and eating them in a leisure manner, and once he's done it on both your nipples, he adds more whipped cream on your nipples and tits to lick it off of you. you're whining and throwing your head back while squeezing his biceps to support your trembling body. the feeling of his teeth gently pulling at your skin and then soothing the soft sting by licking away at where he nipped, had your mind spinning.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once he's done playing with your mounds, you're quick to get on your knees and in between his legs. you place whipped cream from his lower abdomen down to his happy trail, feverishly licking away and creating marks. with toji’s help, you pull down his sweats and boxers as his cock eagerly springs out, softly slapping his left thigh. you swallow down a groan, placing your hands at his shaft. you begin to jerk him off as you leave wet kisses from his tip down to his balls, and back up again. once you have him in your mouth, toji's soft groans get louder, and you reach a hand down to move the lace fabric to the side, running two digits down your clit and slowly inserting into your pussy. you gag on toji's length when you push him in as far back as you can, and the whine that vibrates throughout your throat sends him over the edge along with the way you're looking up at him with teary eyes as you fondle his balls with your free hand.

valentine’s day with toji!means that once he shoots a load into your mouth, he pulls you back up to quickly (but carefully) yank off the rest of the lingerie, only leaving you in your thigh highs. you're now on his lap once more, fisting his cock as you rub your puffy folds and clit against his soft-pink tip. once you feel like you're slick enough to slip him inside you, you line him up with your entrance and slowly but surely slide down his length and girth. murmurs of "you're doing so great sweetheart," and "you feel so fuckin' good baby, cmon, you can do it," eggs you on to continue. and even after all the regular sex, you felt like he was splitting you apart for the first time every time. and you loved it. you cry out in pleasure when you finally have all of him in you, and you're eager to begin bouncing on his cock. your thighs are trembling, and toji's "fuck"s and "oh yeah"s have you twitching in ecstasy as you grip onto his knees to support your body. toji is practically on the brink of cumming already when he sees the way your ass is rippling against his thighs, the clapping noises making him grin devilishly.

valentine’s day with toji!means that when you reach your limit, you're arching your back as a high-pitched whine releases from your throat, eyes crossing as you shake in pure delight. toji's lolling his head back as he grits his teeth, soft whimpers leaving his lips as he soon after cums inside of you, a creamy white ring forming at the base of his cock. you're breathing heavily and he's panting, but that doesn't stop you two from looking at each other for a few seconds; and then hungrily kissing. when you pull apart from each other, he's looking up at you as if you're the only person in the world, the only one that really matters. and you know that rings true as he intertwines your fingers together, leaving a gentle peck on your hand as he never loses eye contact with you. the way he loves you, not only on valentines, but every day, will always be something you cherish.

valentine’s day with toji!means that you're being pulled down into the couch with him, arms securely wrapped around your waist, and legs hooked over yours as he gives you a boyish grin. god, if only he knew the way you see him, the way you think about him. and when you're telling him that you two should probably get to opening your gifts as you were excited to see his reaction in what you got him, he's shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "we can do that later, baby. how 'bout a round two first?" a smirk forms on his lips when you lightly hit his chest, but your flushed cheeks and pleading gaze say otherwise. he knows you all too well.

i hope this wasn't too late for valentines!! hehe. feel free to leave ideas in my inbox or a comment ♡ if i made any grammar mistakes that i missed, lmk! and thank u so much for reading (●´ω｀●)

[bluesylveon2]

The Girl in Silver

Work has been stressing me out, but enjoy this for now! I will make sure to get to my WIPs when I have time

Summary: During the social at Noble Bell, Silver meets a girl dressed up in silver

Note: fluff, set during GloMas, Reader is not Yuu, pretend the social was coed, lowkey inspired by the Bridgerton S4 leaks

Word Count: 706

Warnings: fem reader, not beta read, and possible OOC characters

Silver hasn't felt this content in a while. 

He watched as his fellow classmates interacted with students from other schools. Some students praised Malleus for his performance, and he heard Sebek shouting his praises across the room. 

It was a memory Silver will treasure forever. 

"That was a wonderful performance," a feminine voice said behind him. Silver turned, and his auroral eyes met another set of beautiful eyes hidden behind a silver mask. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, making the girl chuckle. "It's like you've never seen a girl before," she teased, hiding her mouth behind her silver-gloved hand.

Silver blushed and silently thanked the Seven. No other NRC student was around, especially his father. "I apologize. I should not have done that."

The girl only giggled. Silver's body felt light as her laughter filled the ballroom despite the students' voices around them. "It's alright. It must be rare to meet someone from your school who is not—" She glanced at the crowd. Her eyes did not miss Ruggie piling a plate of desserts, Rook trying to teach Deuce and Epel how to dance, and Idia attempting to blend into the shadows (and failing). Her eyes went back to study Silver.  "Interesting."

Silver's lips lifted up in a smile. "They are a good group. They each have their own perks." The music changed into a classical piece. Silver's eyes widened slightly when a silver-gloved hand came into his view. "What are you doing, miss?" He asked obliviously. 

The girl eyed him with mirth. "I am asking you for a dance."

Silver could only blink. Oh, if Father were to see him now. How would he react? "But I should be the one to ask you, like a prince."

"True, but similar to Topsy Turvy Fest, a woman can ask a man to dance, no?" She shook her offered hand slightly. 

Silver smiled and placed his hand on hers. "I suppose so," the girl yelped suddenly after Silver pulled her into his arms. But let me lead."

The girl nodded and got into the dancing position. "Alright, lead the way, silver-haired prince."

"Silver-haired prince?" Silver mused as he led the girl around the ballroom. "My name is Silver, and I am not a prince."

"Wait, your name is actually Silver? I called you that because your hair stands out from your costume."

"Ironically, Father named me that because of my hair." Silver smiled, thinking back about the memories he had shared with Lilia.

"I see." The girl was quiet. 

"And what is your name?" Silver asked as he twirled his partner around. Unaware of his prince smirking in his direction as he spoke to the magicless prefect. 

"That's a secret." She said in a sing-song voice. 

"But you know my name."

"Yes, but things can be a secret in a masquerade."

"Very well. I will respect your decision," Silver nodded and continued to dance with the girl, just as Lilia had taught him. 

The two casually talked and danced naturally for what felt like days. An unspoken spark between them left the couple stuck in their own world. Even Sebek was ready to announce his opinion on it until Malleus teleported to him to stop him. 

When the two stepped out into the courtyard, they returned to reality. 

"You are an excellent dancer!" The mystery girl said while trying to catch her breath. 

Silver chuckled and handed the girl a glass of water he got on their way out. "You have good stamina to keep up with me. My father and brothers are the only ones who can do the same."

The girl chugged her water and grinned. "Your family sounds interesting."

"You should meet them," Silver suggested with a serious face. 

The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that! I-"

Ding ding ding. 

The Bell of Solace rang as the clock struck midnight. 

The girl stiffened. "I have to go!"

"Wait, but you need to rest more."

Silver's words went past the girl's ears as she shoved her glass towards Silver, picked up her silver skirt, revealing the matching heels, and started running. 

"I feel fine now! It was nice to meet you, Silver!"

"But you should rest your feet!" Silver started running after her. The boy was both confused and impressed. Perplexed at why his new friend (if you could call it that) ran off and impressed that someone who was tired earlier was managing to outrun him. 

The two had made it to the front of the school, where a carriage was waiting by the doors. In one motion, the girl started sprinting and lept into the carriage. The vehicle immediately started moving just as Silver made it. Luckily, he was close enough to see the girl stick her head out. 

"Thank you!" 

Silver stood there frozen, wondering what just occurred. "Wait! Miss!" his eyes caught sight of something shiny. He bent down, picked it up, and watched it shimmer from the moonlight. 

---

"Double check your things and make sure you brought everything. We will not come back if you forget something," Professor Trein's stern voice called out.

Everyone responded with "Yes, professor," except for one. 

"Are you still looking for the girl?" Malleus asked, causing Silver to look up at his liege, who had a small smile. 

Silver blushed slightly and fumbled to put the glove away with his things. He did not want to be too rough with it in case the silk material tore. "No, Malleus. I was…making sure there was no dust on it."

Even Malleus could see through the lie. "I see," he hummed and turned away to check on Sebek. "Oh, and Silver," he paused and faced Silver with a content look. "Whatever you decide, know that I will support your decision."

With that, Malleus walked away, leaving Silver stunned. He glanced back down at his bag, where the glove lay. Silver opened his bag and grabbed the glove with determination. 

The group won't leave for another few minutes. If he looks now, he could possibly find the girl in-

Silver let out an "oof" as his body ran into something. 

"Hey, watch where you're going!" 

Silver turned to the voice. There was a girl who looked around his age and wearing the uniform of another arcane academy. The girl sounded familiar, even though she gave him an irritated look. Now that he thought about it, her eyes also looked familiar. 

"I'm sorry, miss. I was not looking where I was going."

The girl's eyes widened slightly, her mouth a gap, and her eyes focused on something on the ground. 

The silver glove. 

Silver looked up at the girl, his eyes meeting her. Suddenly, he saw a silver mask briefly flash on the girl's face.

"It's you."

Bonus, set the night before the NRC group left to go back:

"And then, Lilia, Silver was dancing with the girl." Malleus tried to hide his excitement. He really did, but he did not want to disturb the other third years in the room with him. 

"Oh, how he grows up so fast! Tell me, did he make her swoon with his charms? Did he act like her knight in shining armor? My son can only inherit the best from his father!" 

Malleus wanted to roll his eyes at Lilia's cockiness. Thank goodness Silver or Sebek weren't around to hear it. He could already see how they would react. "Not at all. They were just dancing and talking."

The line was silent for a moment as Lilia processed Malleus' words. 

"They just talked…no dashing looks or saving the girl from a fall…"

Malleus felt a tension through the phone.  "Lilia?"

"OH, HOW I FAILED AS A FATHER!!" Malleus pulled his phone away from his ear as Lilia wailed. His eyes briefly looked at Rook sleeping in his bed and Idia watching a video with his headphones on. Perfect, they did not notice anything. "I spent so much time training my boy to be the best knight that he is lacking in the romance department! Poor Silver has so much to learn about how to woo a woman! Quick, Malleus, send him my way so we can start his training immediately."

"But-"

"Malleus, can you ask the Prefect if she is available for the training? NRC might lack in the amount of females, but I will take what I can get."

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-24. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (5)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Raven and Armando go under cover once again. Which lands them in a sticky situation.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: Hey guys!! So, this is either part 1 of 2, or the next upload will just be part 6. :) Either way, the inspiration came from me listening to "Blick Sum" on Latto's new album. Hope it doesn't such and you enjoy! // Armando and Raven's looks pictured above.

"Mike, I think your son is on the run on again." Mike's head whipped towards his longtime partner and best friend as he walked away from Armando's room. His face crinkled in confusion, already preparing to tell Marcus to cut the bullshit "Look, I'm serious man. He's not in his room or anywhere else in the house." "Well, what about outside? In the back maybe?" Dorn offered an alternative suggestion, having grown a liking to Armando, he doubted his newfound team member would just escape.

On the opposite side of the couch Mike couldn't help but grow silent. He also couldn't fathom his son just up and going on the run. He'd seen the improvement Armando was making, an actual effort to be trusted and become a part of this team. No way he'd just up and leave. "Okay, okay. Let's think about this seriously. Where would he even run to? He has immunity so long as he's with us. So, what sense would it make for him to run?" The sound of Raven's door opening cause a hushed silence to fall over the room.

Kelly, Dorn, Mike, and Marcus all watched in surprise as a shirtless Armando exited the bedroom with two empty coffee mugs, sitting them in the sink. Black sweatpants hung loosely around his hips, his hair looked dishevel, and his lips looked red and swollen as if he'd been lip-locked with someone for hours.

"You guys are idiots." He lowly grumbled and turned on his heels to turn back into her room. The four of them were left in surprise at the sight. It seemed like years had passed before Dorn spoke. "I knew it!" Slapping his hand down on the coffee table palm up, he then wiggled his fingers. "Pay up, fuckers. Love always prevails!" He fist pumped.

Another hour passed before Raven and Armando were dressed and present for the debriefing of what was to occur that day. "Is it big?" Kelly could be heard whispering to Raven as they began to giggle. "Hey! Enough of that shit." Marcus exclaimed as Armando smirked.

"Ok Snooki and Jwow, can you two pick that conversation up later. It's time to get down to business. Based on what Armando and Raven saw last night, plus Armando's idea to infiltrate we have the perfect way in." Dorn sat up from his seat, eyebrows crinkled as he glanced around the room. "Infiltrate? How are you gonna do that?" Now it was Armando's turn to speak. "They know our faces now. If anything, they probably think we're some hot shots trying to get in on his game, become allies at the least. All we have to do is get in through that fucker that was hitting on Raven last night."

"And just where are we supposed to find him?" Raven questioned, her eyebrow raising as she eyed the brown skinned male who only smirked. "Don't worry about that, baby. I have my sources. " Raven opened her mouth to rebut, she wanted all the details if she was going to be walking back into direct danger. "Raven, trust me. We double checked it, it's a legit way in. Your captain and Rita are okay with it. We wouldn't send you into any half assed shit. You trust us?" Mike spoke up, eyeing her with pure sincerity in his eyes. She took a moment but nodded. "Yea. Let's get it then."

With that, Mike, Marcus, and Armando went on to explain the full plan.

The purr of the approaching black Lamborghini caught the attention of many in the already crowded lot. The sun seemed to dance off the paint as it traveled along the path, the unknown driver eventually parked the car before both doors opened. Those who had weapons reached for them, unaware of who the hell had just waltz into their hangout and where did they get the nerve to do so.

Time seemed to stand still underneath the blazing sun, that was until they were greeted by the sight of a woman stepping out of the car. Raven's hair whipped past her face as she looked around the crowd of men and the women that accompanied them. Her teeth chomped down on her bubble gum before she blew a large bubble, allowing it to pop shortly after. "Are we interrupting?" She smiled innocently as Armano stepped out of the car. They both met at the hood of the car, Raven's short shorts and orange and white striped bikini accented the figure that they both knew men went crazy for.

She leaned against the car, scanning the crowd for the sleaze ball they'd encountered the other day. She glanced over to Armando who wore something simpler. He wore a white tank top and black pants. The hills and valleys of his muscles more defined by the flex of him situating himself beside her. The true flash of his outfit resided in the smaller details he chose, the thin gold chain he wore around his neck practically danced with each move he made. Mike personally went out to get him shoes that were way more expensive than needed. Stating something about. "A subtle flex is what we really need." But really Raven felt he simply wanted to get his son a gift.

It seemed everyone was in somewhat awe of this random couple, but slowly returned to their previous activities. "He's coming." Raven spoke lowly to Armando who'd propped up a bit as the sleaze ball approached. "Ah, tough guy." He greeted as he approached the two. "Can I uh, can I ask what you're doing here?" The man looked around the area before he motioned to the open space. "You know, this is a dangerous place to be." The smug smile on his face agitated Raven, while Armando held a cool demeanor. "Where's your boss?"

He ignored the futile attempts of the man to place fear into his heart. Mainly because he wasn't scared, but also because he needed to cut out this middleman bullshit. "My boss? Compañero, no body speaks to him without speaking to me first? So, like I said, what are you doing here?" Raven glanced between the two. Although this was a mission they were on, she felt she was getting a glimpse of the man Armando used to be. She couldn't lie and say it wasn't turning her the fuck on. The arrogant confidence and dominance radiating off him cause butterflies to form in her belly as she thought of the night before.

"Tengo algunos asuntos que tengo que discutir con él. Así que, de nuevo, ¿dónde está el hombre a cargo?" Armando replied, nonchalantly. As he discovered in the car, Raven was very fluent in Spanish much to his surprise, so he knew she was well aware of what was happening. "The man in charge huh? Well right now, I'm the man in charge. Ain't that right, sweetheart." He took this time to finally acknowledge Raven, winking at her. "Why don't you come over here with me, huh?" he continued with a lick of his lips. And while, Armando was very much playing a role of a man who wouldn't stand for that.

He, himself, also wouldn't stand for the disrespect of this woman. Of his woman. "Yo, didn't I tell you last night to match your words with her." Armando stood up straight. Reaching behind himself to quickly brandish his two toned baretta. This of course, cause the entire crowd to get on the defense. The goons around them also drew their guns, waiting for who she could only assume to be their underboss to say the word and they'd be Swiss fucking cheese.

In this moment, she hoped the rest of the team was making their way to rescue them in this moment as Armando placed the gun underneath the sleaze balls chin. "Apologize to her." He gritted through clenched teeth. For once, the man showed a bit of bravado. Not apologizing, but instead offering a challenge. "Odio a los gilipollas como tú, solo que duros con una pistola."

In this moment, Raven knew he was either this brave to safe face in front of his crew or because he knew they were outnumbered. "Oh?" Armando laughed. "So, you think this gun is what makes me so tough?" With the firearm still pointed underneath his chin, the sleaze ball stood firm in his stance that Armando wouldn't be so tough without it. Raven watched as he laughed, pulling the gun away and holding it out to her. "Hold this, baby." He stated without even turning his head to look at her.

Without uttering a word, she took the gun from him, watching as he sent a fist flying straight into the male's nose.

Fuck!

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

Compañero - "Buddy."

Tengo algunos asuntos que tengo que discutir con él. Así que, de nuevo, ¿dónde está el hombre a cargo? - "I have some business that I need to discuss with him. So, again, where's the man in charge?"

Odio a los gilipollas como tú, solo que duros con una pistola. - "I hate assholes like you. Only tough with a gun."

credit for Armando picture to @yeahnohoneybye

[joelmillerlover123]

Your Man | JOEL MILLER X READER

Joel Miller loves being your man, and he wants everyone to know it.

One shot! Inspired by Your Man by Josh Turner.

Pre/No outbreak AU. Domestic!Joel. Fem!Reader. Joel is a TRUE southern man in this. Reader is also southern. You’ll catch on.

About 700 words!

Joel watched as you went about the room, your smile lighting up each group you stopped and mingled with.

You had asked him to accompany you to this work event a couple weeks ago. He hadn’t wanted to go, not even a little. But it didn’t matter. Of course he would go.

You had gone up to the bar with him and stayed long enough to see him take his first sip of his first beer before you spotted your ‘work bestie’ and just had to go talk to her. He knew he wouldn’t see you much for the rest of the night. But he didn’t mind. He loved standing off to the sidelines watching you do your thing. He loved watching that smile of yours.

He was now on his third or fourth beer, just sitting at the bar, watching you flit from person to person, laughing, smiling and mingling. Every once in a while you’d make eye contact with him, sending a wink his way and the butterflies would stir in his stomach. A couple years down and you still managed to make him all nervous and giddy.

He had just turned back to the bartender to order another beer when your hands wrapped around his bicep, pulling slightly.

“Hey, what?” He turned to you, smiling.

Your eyes and smile were wide, pulling him to the dance floor.

“Oh, no, sugar. I ain’t dancing. Should’ve caught me a couple beers ago.” Joel shook his head but you and he both knew he would give in no problem. But then, Joel heard an all too familiar guitar riff come on over the honkytonk’s speakers. “Your Man” by Josh Turner was one of the first songs Joel ever played for you. It’s one of y’all’s absolute, all time, favorites. He swooned as the lyrics poured out and knew he was toast. Joel wasn’t even in his two stepping boots!

“Come on, Joel!” You practically whined, a smile still painted over your lips, “We love this song!”

“Alright, alright,” Joel let you pull him to the dance floor, hand in hand. You two reached the center of the dancers, most already two stepping. He held you close, smelling the familiar scent of your ‘Island’ shampoo, whatever kinda scent that was. It kinda smells like froot loops to him. Or maybe captain crunch. Whatever it was, it gave him more of a buzz than the beer.

Joel had two stepped with other women, but you were by far the best partner. You trust him, which makes for a better partner anyways. But man, the way you felt the music and smiled a lazy, half lidded grin the whole time had Joel practically melting into your touch. Your hair spun with you as he spun you around, showing you off. You were easily the most beautiful woman there, and Joel wanted everyone to know that you were his partner. You were there with him.

He found himself, not for the first time, relating a lot to the lyrics of the song. He mouthed them to you and you giggled, placing your head in the crook of his neck. You two spun about the room, only stopping when the song was over and you gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Joel blinked, taken aback. You usually hated PDA and so he quirked an eyebrow at you. You smirk slightly and say, “Guess I just love you being my man.”

Joel doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol in his system, or just purely you and your essence filling his senses but a feeling deep in his chest causes his whole body to tighten, inhaling a quick breath. His head feels all fuzzy looking at how gorgeous you look under the neon lights.

“I’m the lucky one here, darlin,” Joel says, trying to hide his nervous reaction.

“You’re too sweet,” You trail a gentle hand down his arm, “Hey, what do you say we get outta here?”

Joel couldn’t have said the word faster if he had tried, “Yes.”

You laugh at his eagerness and take his hand and lead him up to the bar to close his tab and quickly say goodbye to some friends.

“You ready?” You ask once you say your last goodbye, Joel just happily standing behind you.

“Hell, yeah, sugar. Let’s go,” Joel puts his hand to the small of your back and you two head home.

[wordywarriorwrites]

Life's a Dance

Title: LIfe's a Dance | AO3 | Rating: T Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x You Summary: Jack finds a second chance at love. Will he take it? Warnings: Alcohol consumption. Swearing. Mentions of grief/death. A/N: This fic is for @burntheedges "Roll a Trope" challenge (sorry I'm a day late!) and is an AU (obvs). Tagging @jolapeno, who gave me an inspirational and dare I say it, MOTIVATIONAL, "ooo," when I shared a snippet on a WIP Wednesday post.

My trope. Songs referenced in the fic: 1, 2

Jack watches – wide-eyed, with his heart in his throat – as you complete the clover pattern, quicker than lightning, bolder than brass. Fearless, you and that horse of yours, maneuvering around the barrels at an almost impossible-to-follow speed.

Now, he’s gnawing on his nails, knee bouncing, waiting for the results as the digital scoreboard goes blank. A hush has fallen over the crowd of some 19,000 spectators; they’re right there with him, with you, as the camera pans in close to your face, capturing your anxious expression in the moments before the announcement.

Eyes flickering back and forth between you and the screen, waiting, watching as your name ticks to the top of the leaderboard. The announcer barely says it’s ‘a record-breaking run’ before the crowd goes wild. And Jack is swept up in it – on his feet, bursting with pride, whistling and clapping and sharing in your career-defining achievement.

Thunderbolt is just as triumphant, receiving pets and kisses from you as he excitedly prances around the sand during the victory lap. The rodeo may be over, but the night has just begun; there will be press, a fan meet-and-greet, and then, an afterparty. Jack knows you’ll be busy for several hours, but that’s okay.

He can wait.

“So,” Tequila drawls, shuffling out of the stands and towards the stairs leading up to the exit. “How long you two been datin’?”

Jack nearly trips over his own boots, hand shooting out to grab the rail for balance, “Datin’? No, we aren’t datin’. We’re just friends.”

A quirked brow is all the response he gets – for now. Jack knows the meddlesome man is just biding his time. In fact, it’s nearly midnight at the honkytonk when he brings it up again.

“You may be retired, but your name still gets flagged when you travel,” Tequila points out, all casual as he drops truth bombs while sipping his beer. “You’ve been following the circuit. And for a man who didn’t even know what the hell barrel racing was a year ago… Well, I find that real interesting.”

Jack sighs and signals the bartender for another drink, “Look, I invited you here to help me spread the message about my distillery – not to comment on my friendship with--”

“You know, I see her picture pop up when you two text,” he interjects. “And I can hear you talking to her on the phone late at night. I mean, have you really watched all 17 seasons of Heartland?”

Jack grunts. Rolls a mouthful of Johnnie Walker across his tongue before swallowing hard and muttering that Tequila is one nosy motherfucker, who has absolutely no business listening in on his private conversations through the damn hotel room wall. But arguing is pointless – especially since saying anything otherwise would just result in him pushing the issue even more.

The purpose of the trip to Cheyenne was two-fold. First, Jack wanted to see you. Second, the biggest rodeo event on the circuit drew a lot of sponsors (aka: potential investors) known for putting their money in a variety of different cookie jars, and he hoped they’d want to partner with him on a whiskey distillery. Tequila, still in the game, knew all the players and was exceptionally good at schmoozing. It seemed like a win-win, but now, he can’t help but regret asking his too-observant friend for help.

“And the first thing you did when she walked in?” he carries on, all ‘ah-ha, got you now’ in tone. “You put your stinky Stetson on her pretty, little head. And if that’s not stakin’ a claim…” 

It’s the verbal equivalent of a knockout punch, causing Jack to pause mid-sip, but before he can counter, you sidle up between him and his buddy, effectively disrupting the sparring match.

You’re an all-Western cowgirl; from the boot heel to the ten-gallon he’d plopped over your brow after hugging you tight in congratulations. Long-sleeved shirt tucked into jeans. Winners buckle the size of his fist just below your navel. Shiny eyes and a toothy grin. You’re in high spirits, clapping Tequila’s shoulder in greeting before propping an elbow up on the bar and jutting your chin toward the teeming dance floor.

“How ‘bout it, cowboy?” you quip.

Jack should’ve known Tequila, the jabber-jaw, wouldn’t allow him to get a word out in acceptance or refusal. Like a dog with a bone, he buts right on in – says Jack doesn’t dance (at least, not very well). And he grins while he says it - as if pointing something like that out when a woman is asking you to bootscoot for the first time is somehow helpful.

Head tilted slightly, you look at him from beneath the brim of his Stetson, “Can’t? Or won’t?”

Tequila strikes again, this time, with something pithy Jack doesn’t entirely catch, but his ears pick up every, single detail of the asshole offering to take you for a spin. And it’s fine. Jack is completely prepared to let it go, to be the well-mannered man his mamma raised, but Tequila does the one thing guaranteed to illicit a baser response.

“Won’t be needin’ this,” he states, plucking the hat from your head and discarding it down on the bar top. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s boogie.”

Jack’s not sure how much time passes. Ten, maybe fifteen seconds? Like stones skipping along a pond, those seconds come and go so quickly, but they ripple and expand. He recalls his dead wife and son, and how he would be the man he is without having had and lost them. Then, the job, and the purpose it had given him until he’d nearly lost himself in it. Then, meeting you. If someone had told him he'd find a second chance at love at a random truck stop in Kentucky, he'd have laughed in their face.

But that's exactly what happened.

That syrup-sticky counter. The scent of cheap coffee and overcooked bacon. Clanking silverware and Coal Miner's Daughter playing over the speakers. You'd been watching barrel racing on your phone and taking notes on an egg-yolk-and-strawberry-jam-stained paper napkin when he’d asked if the stool next to yours was free.

A simple question. A polite answer. A shared glance that lingered a bit longer than was strictly polite. Chit-chat that somehow morphed into you showing him how to download Instagram so he could follow you – which had seemed a bit untoward of him, doing such a thing, but you’d laughed in that bright, sunny way of yours and assured him was normal. Ten minutes spent showing him how to scroll, and then, you’d dropped cash on the counter and tipped your hat. Bid him farewell. Headed out the door.

But you hadn’t left his mind.

Calls and texts and video chats. Red-eye flights and sunrise breakfasts. Lunches at small-town fairs and dinners at dive bars. Exchanging birthday and Christmas gifts. A year had come and gone, and in that time, Jack had gotten to know you. Knew what channels you’d be on. That your horse loved organic carrots. That you sometimes slept in the barn when your nerves wouldn’t allow you to rest in a hotel bed or even your trailer. You told him things – painful, private things – and in return, he shared feelings and thoughts with you that he hadn’t expressed to anyone else in nearly two decades.

You’d opened his eyes to a different way of existing; proved to him that life could be balanced between wildness and safety, excitement and the every day, and sorrow and joy. You showed him moments were to be cherished, and losses weren’t supposed to keep him locked in a perpetual state of grief until he either got taken out by an enemy or found a grave to lay down and die in.

Of course, there was something there. A flame, unfanned. A torch carried, but unacknowledged. You’d be going into the off-season, soon; still working and training, teaching breakaway roping lessons and riding classes and such, but not traveling. And God knows he’s got the freedom and capital to do what he wants and go where he pleases…

But it’s Tequila’s hand on your shoulder that brings all that chaos, all those ‘what if’ thoughts in his head, to a resounding halt. The seemingly innocuous touch of another man shouldn’t bother him, but it does because he knows it’s a challenge, and his own hand reacts – goes right to his hip on pure instinct – and if he’d been carrying openly, his palm would’ve been atop of one of his revolvers.

Tequila clocks it, but doesn’t back off; in fact, it emboldens him and prompts him to move his hand to your waist. A friendly smile. A guiding touch. A few words to encourage you to head toward the dancefloor and a narrow-eyed glare for Jack to either take a stand or stand down.

Jack is no coward, but he’s also no fool. And he’s not willing to risk losing your friendship over a pissing contest, so, he backs off. Inclines his head. Plasters a smile on his face that’s faker than a buckle bunny’s spray tan.

“Whatever the lady wants,” he says.

Whether the flash of disappointment in your eyes is real or imagined doesn’t matter because Jack ignores it all the same. Just as he ignores Tequila’s muttering fucking idiot as he passes.

The opening chords of Life’s a Dance ring through the air, and he manages to make it to the chorus before deciding he’s taken enough of a beating for the night. He doesn’t say goodbye – just shoots off a lame excuse text to you about an early morning meeting that doesn’t exist, followed up by one to Tequila, telling him to find his own way back to the hotel.

By the time he gets to his pickup, he’s spitting mad. Mad at Tequila. At himself. At you, for making him feel things he hasn’t felt in such a long, long time. For making him feel both safe and afraid to take that leap again. For making him realize wanting you didn’t mean he was being disloyal…

Keys rattling, he jabs the unlock button with his thumb and jerks the door open. Habit has him reaching for his hat, which is no longer there. His Custom Stetson. The one he’s had for ages. The one he spent an obscene amount of money on to have made just right. The one that fits his big ol’ dome so perfectly that there’s no way in hell he could ever hope to replace it.

Jack slams the door so hard, it rocks the frame. Then, uncaring of the fact that it’s a rental, he kicks the front tire with his boot, and that scuffs the rim up pretty good. That old, familiar darkness rears up, and his chest goes tight with it, but expletives and fists are literally reined in by a rope suddenly winding around his shoulders.

Arms pinned to his sides, he whirls, and spots you. A stationary target may be easier to rope, but the distance is impressive. So is the strength you display when you cinch him tight and give a forceful tug to his tether. Passerby-turned-on-lookers think so, too because they clap at your display. Some even whistle as he’s forced to walk toward you or else be dragged.

“You done, cowboy?” you ask, toes nearly touching his as he stands before you. “Or am I gonna have to put my spurs on?”

The glint in your eye is one he’s come to know quite well, and when he doesn’t answer, the rope goes tighter. It doesn’t hurt, but it gets his full attention – takes his mind off his anger, makes him focus, and has him realizing that you’ve not only roped him in, but you’ve got his Stetson on, too.

“S’my hat,” Jack blurts.

You grin. Cup his cheek in a leather-worn palm. Jack meets you in the middle, and it’s like slipping into a hot bath after a long, hard day. A first-time, we-waited-too-long-to-do-this kiss that carries on just long enough for it to mean something.

A slow parting. Your thumb ghosting along his lower lip. Lips curving into a smile, you say, “Hat’s mine now, cowboy.”

And he laughs.

And kisses you again.

[heartofwritiing]

Dance with me

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: you’re at a music festival with lovejoy, you and wilbur can’t help but be pulled together when a certain song from your favorite band plays.

authors note: I got inspired by this clip I think it’s from ash’s tiktok, its one of my favorite wilbur clips and for some reason the idea of dancing with wilbur at a music festival sparked within my weird little brain lmao. enjoy this quick fic as (i like to call them) my writers block is killing me ughh

warnings: none, just fluff, established relationship, reader is a member of lovejoy, very short, and unedited!

Sweaty bodies screamed around you, shouting back lyrics to the band that was preforming on the main stage you were just on hours before.

It was one of your favorite bands Arctic Monkeys. you still couldn’t believe you were here, only dreaming of performing on stage in-front of big crowds like this when you were little, putting on concerts in your living room for your family members. It was all thanks to the band you had joined a little over a year ago.

Lovejoy was looking for a keyboard player to only do live gigs. After some time and getting to know them more and more, watching them grow into their style and become best friends with all the band members. You had unofficially joined the group along with the other respective trumpet players joining on tour.

Now you were traveling the world, getting to see new places and having an experience like no other.

Wilbur and you had only met three years ago during quarantine, almost right away you knew he was the one. You had joined in on a call with a mutual friend to play some online game. since then, you had met in person several times, moved in together, joined his band, and the rest was history. Getting to travel the world with your partner was an absolute plus.

You rocked along to the rhythm of the guitars, the beat of the drums pounding through the speakers stimulating your brain. Ash and Mark, were standing to your right, bobbing along to the music with grins on both their faces.

Ash was filming the stage, panning around to show the camera Mark, who was watching the stage intently. Ash unexpectedly moved the camera to you noticing you looking at him and now was your opportunity to show off your goofy side. While still dancing, you started making faces, this caused Ash to hold back laughter.

You continued this, oblivious to the fact Wilbur was sneaking up behind you. You missed Ash's quick glance behind you, and a pair of arms came around your waist, pulling you flush against a person's chest. You let out a surprised yelp, you almost were about to elbow the person in the ribs for grabbing you but the smell of musky cologne flooded your senses. it instantly made you discover who it was. Ease came over you knowing it was Wilbur.

Taking a breath, a smile inched up your lips as he placed his chin on your shoulder and rocked you side-to-side to the beat of the music. You said nothing as you crept up your arms to rest on top of his, lacing your fingers together in a tangled mess.

Wilbur hummed as you leaned into his touch once the song ended, cheers erupted around you but soon died down due to the next song starting up with the rift of the gutair. Letting out an audible squeal you recognized the track, quickly spinning out of Wilbur’s arms to face him he saw the evident smirk on your lips as you took his hands in yours once more.

“Dance with me?” you asked playfully.

How could he say no to you? Wilbur noticed how your hips started to move with every beat of the drum, taunting him to move with you. Your eyes sparkled mischievously casting a spell and drawing him to your further.

Wilbur took your left hand and placed it on his shoulder. Then your other hand is in his. You felt his arm go around your waist and he began to move in a sway.

The crowd around you appeared to vanish. Having your arms around your lover was the only thing that mattered in your mind. He took you into a swinging step as the music got faster, and you wondered when the crowd had dispersed to make more room for you.

Wilbur spun you around quickly by the arm, causing you to trip over your feet. With a gasp, you collided with his chest. Giggles crawled out of your chests. He helped you stand upright as your eyes crinkled with happiness.

Your laughter died down, and he leaned his head to your level to press your foreheads together in a blissful moment of contentment.

Taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez

if you want to be added or removed let me know!

[fillinforlater]

WICKED LOVER

Female Reader x Choi Yena

Length: 2791 words

Tags: intense dancing, very hot choreography, wicked love, lesbian sex, rough sex, finger fucking, clit stimulation, face sitting, abs worship, marking, scratches, a bit of shaming, mentions of toxic relationships, freaky kinks, wicked_lover!Yena / dancer!You

TW: mentions of blood by scratches + toxic relationships; I guess shaming

Inspiration: "WICKED LOVE" by Yena, especially the Dance Practice (I have watched it like 30 times for this fic, fuuuuuuck)

(A/N: female reader bfh that came out of nowhere. Yena had no business being this freaky for her pre-release. (BTW: the title of her actual title track is also quite inspiring...))

“You are going to do the part during the bridge with me.”

Rumor has it that Yena had a break-up before writing this song. Although it has not leaked out into the general public, the message of the song should even get the most delusional or densest fans thinking. However, inside the company building, everyone knows that there's more to the story. 

Yena’s relationship was wild, toxic and violent. She and her lover grew from being extremely close and intimate, something the company struggled to hide, to avoiding each other because of the drama that would unfold if they locked eyes. Somehow, they still found ways to make up, but after a few months nothing could salvage this relationship anymore.

As a dancer who regularly works for the same label as Yena, you remember passing Yena’s studio and hearing the vile insults they would throw at each other, audible even through the thick walls. An hour later you’d pass the same door and hear her  moans and screams of pleasure. You never dared to peek inside; it would have fueled your envy.

“S-sure,” you answer the imposing idol standing in the midst of the dance practice room, surrounded by dancers just like you who had hoped to be assigned the same part. “I’ll give it my all.”

“Stay after the main practice,” Yena adds in the same stern, professional tone. “I might want to change it up a bit.”

You lock eyes with her through the mirror and nod. The perfect length for eye contact is supposed to be 3.3 seconds, but why is it that Yena makes you weak in less than half of that? If you’d really focused on her for 3.3 seconds, you’d lose your footing and would have to admit that there was more than adoration for her success and (not anymore) adorable visuals. 

Through all the curses you’ve heard her scream when there are no cameras, through the rumors of her leaving scratches all over her former lover's face, through the thought of her maybe being the more toxic partner, you’ve continuously grown more obsessed with Yena. You are not better than all those delusional fans out there.

Well, you might not be better, but you are a lot closer now. The rest of the dancers have left the room. The track is still in loop, so you and Yena continue to dance as if it was a normal practice up until the bridge. Luckily, dancing always pulls you into a powerful trance in which you can escape the hold Yena has on your fragile heart. Even when the two of you are close to each other, even when her hands are on your body, hell, even when she tears off your top, the music keeps you going. 

However, it’s a lot different now. 

During the first part of the choreo, Yena positions herself and you do a couple of quick movements around her. Then the two of you start facing each other, showing off something like an intimate fight before smoothly switching to the finale where Yena circles your body with her arms three times—untils she rips the black top apart. 

The moment you start to face Yena, you can see or rather feel how the choreo has changed. Yena is a lot closer, she is literally pressing her chest into yours and moves her knee up to reach your core in between your legs. Doing the hand motions becomes difficult, especially Yena continues to have this dull, bored expression on her face, like it’s just practice. 

Yena’s cheek really touches the palm of your hand and you almost forget to continue, your spin out of her imminent reach is amateur-like. You almost stumble when Yena gets on one knee, grabs your lower leg, quickly brushes up your body to grab your waist and then, with perfect timing, destroys your top with a single pull. 

The tatters fall from your chest, shoulders, arms. Your breath is heavy and your face is red—not due to dancing anymore. Without a care in the world, Yena hurries towards her phone and stops the music. 

“What do you think?” Yena asks, her hands on her hips, her breaths deep, her eyes a bit softer. “Are these changes good?”

You’re frozen in the final pose. The white crop-top with its spaghetti strings suddenly feels too revealing, so you hide yourself with both your arms, unable to truly understand what just occurred.

“Uhm, I-I think it’s good. It adds to the, uhm, intensity of the br-bridge?” you ask, hair and words in a mess, then your heartbeat as well when Yena approaches you again, the track already booming once more.

“I think so as well,” she whispers. “Let’s try it again.”

The two of you get in position. When your muscle memory kicks in, you remember that she just shredded the top and now you’re more exposed and vulnerable to her than ever before. But it’s too late to change it now, the bridge has already started. 

This time, Yena is even bolder. Her face seems to go in for a kiss during the second part before she pushes you away and then pulls you back in with her aura, her scent for the finale, which is now way too intimate. From your leg, her hand intentionally rubs over your folds, then grabs the hem of your baggy pants to slightly tug them down and the moment you shoot your hand up to leave your backside wide open, Yena—

“Ah, fuck!”

You scream out in pain. Yena’s painted nails pierce into your skin and mercilessly dig through it up to your neck. You throw your head back as you feel tiny veins burst and droplets of blood leak out of the fresh wounds. Sink into Yena whose arms have not yet left your nape.

“What about this?” she asks with a lewd smirk. “I think it brings out all the intimate anger from the lyrics.”

You nod, eyes narrowed in pain. Yena looks at the mirror and eyes your back. She immediately removes her hands and gasps. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want it to be, like—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you hiss and look into her eyes, level with yours, an inch away from yours, she looks so into it, so needy—

That is more than 3.3 seconds. Your legs melt like butter, your chin falls to Yena’s chest. She not only looks bigger than you, her soft pillows are more voluptuous and the tight crop-top is perfect for showing it off. 

“We should…” Yena hums, her voice deeper than ever, her hands deep in your hair at this point.

“W-we should fu—” you try to finish the sentence, but she is too fast.

“We should go for a final attempt. There is something I still want to change.”

The looped track is at the second chorus. You need to push all love and lewd thoughts and tension and pent up stress and the feeling of Yena’s boobs out of your mind. The tug she gave your pants shows a string of your thong, your hair is disheveled, your eyes spin, your muscles try to follow the rhythm but there is no need to follow it. The bridge has already started.

Yena is off beat, grazing your jaw with her lips before spinning you around with her own two hands. Those same hands grab your leg, feel everything up to your inner thigh and even pull at the string of your thong. You’re about to explode, but Yena isn’t done yet. Her sweaty palms rub over your sweatier sides, grab both your top and bra and pull them over your skyward arms. 

Your heart skips a trillion and one beats when you see through your messy hair that Yena has her eyes closed and lips sucking your lower lip, fingers on your breasts, cupping, poking. You fall backwards, the mirror catching you after a couple of steps. Its cold surface meets your scars, you groan at the ease in pain, the increasing pain, whatever it is, you don’t care.

“Yena, I—”

“No words, nothing.”

Yena pulls down your pants, fiddles with the string of your thong before putting her hand into the front. She sighs a little and you open your eyes to find yourself in the mirror, flushed in red with excitement, confusion and arousal. 

“From now on you will shave,” she commands, lips inching towards your ear. She adds, her voice in a husky whisper: “And you will only wear the thongs I give you. I think my pretty girl understands.”

“Y-yes, Yena,” you moan as she rubs your labia.

“Good. 

“Now, let’s get into the storage room.”

Yena starts to circle your entrance while guiding you towards the storage room's door. You were always confused why it was lockable from the inside. Now it makes sense. What also makes sense is the big box with pillows, dresses and stage outfits Yena empties onto the floor before pushing you into it. It’s soft, a worthy replacement for a bed.

“Get those off,” Yena groans but her hands are a lot quicker at undressing your pants than yours. “Spread your legs.”

Open shaky knees slowly. Yena is a lot less hesitant, her fingers pushing away your thong and going straight into your pussy. When she curls them upwards, your feet shoot upwards as well. When she thrusts them in and out, you move the same way to engulf them. When she starts to moan—well, you’re already moaning louder than her.

“Fuck, that’s just two fingers,” Yena groans her complain out loudly, not louder than your moans, but she makes sure you learn that she is in control of your neediness. “What if I actually make you cum with just these two, huh?”

“Ye-Yena, I—”

“No words.”

Yena puts the palm of her hand on your mouth, sealing it shut. The only way to get air is to breathe through your nose, the only way to voice your pleasure is by frantically swinging your legs through the air. However, Yena seems to be amused by your struggle to breathe coherently or release your tension. Feverishly, she starts to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, while her thumb pokes your clit again and again. 

“Are you really going to cum just like that?” Yena huffs and rolls her eyes. “God, I haven’t even undressed and you’re already this weak. I bet the fucking filthiest of my fans would do better than you.”

There is this ounce of pride in you that wants to fight back and argue that you are definitely not on the same level as those creeps lewding her, but in all honesty, you also don’t. Yena is so right, you are wet for her, your soft walls milking her two fingers like you need to do it for your survival. Your hands are free to do everything, you could push her arm away or put yourself upright, but they flop around uselessly, like weak straws. 

“Now—”

Yena removes her hand from your whimpering mouth and puts it on the hem of her crop top.

“—I want you to cum, perfect little girl.”

With a single pull, she gets the tight piece of clothes over her surprisingly big, bra-covered breasts and you get to see something all her fans can only dream off. Too bad you are just too weak, her upwards-downwards curling fingers stretching your cunt and her left-right flicking thumb have you on the edge and with a final, painfully hard push, you start to cum all over her arm.

“Oh, so hot,” Yena groans as your juices run over her skin. “It’s so sticky—did I tell you that you smell fucking lewd? Just from your sweat while dancing, I knew you’d smell perfect down here as well.”

Yena blows on your sore pussy when she pulls out her soaked fingers. The final spurts of your arousal leak onto the stage outfits below, but Yena does not give a fuck. Rather, she continues faster than your orgasm-shaken brain can react. Her face hovers above yours, it looks like she is about to take you missionary—if only she could.

“The next time, when you are shaven,” Yena whispers, cum-covered hand creeping over your chest to your chin. “I’ll fuck just like this. I’ll make you cry with nothing but my pussy. I bet you’re yearning for it already.”

You nod mindlessly before sucking yourself from her fingers. Yena is right, everything about you is lewd, so you might as well make a lewd expression while cleaning each of her fingers individually, then lapping off the rest from her palm. Her expression changes from a fascinated smirk to something a lot more sinister. Suddenly, she pulls your hair while trying to get out of her own pants.

“I know you want it, but I’m not going to give it to you. I’m just going to use your slutty little face to fuck myself and you’re going to be a good, perfect little girl. You will do the fucking things I say.”

“Y-yes, Yena.”

Wordlessly, Yena stands up and finally rids herself of all her garments. When her panties fall, you immediately want her crotch to be closer, but it comes a bit too close. Though the light is dim in the storage room, Yena makes sure that you can see her shaven pussy, her folds, her ass upclose when she starts to sit on your face. 

“Stick your fucking tongue out!”

Yena starts to moan loud and deep and louder and deeper when she rubs her labia on your nose and her clit on your tongue. She is incredibly wet, dripping on your face and making you more than a sweaty mess. All your eyes see is her subtle ass ripple as Yena goes faster, her clit chasing for more stimulation from your mouth.

A sudden sting on your sides fills you with pain. It feels like you are bleeding again, but this time Yena's nails feel intentionally torturous. Right above your hip bones she is leaving scratches, as if she is a tiger attacking and slashing you. You try to show your pain by grabbing her thighs, but she immediately swats you away.

“No! Only I mark you! Fuck, your abs make me so fucking jealous. Be a good little girl and move your stupid tongue.”

Yena suffocates you with her sweaty, pink cunt while her glossy lips begin to kiss all over your midriff. Enticed by her worship of your abs, you start to worship her lower lips with everything you have. Lick it, nibble on it, suck on it, blow on it, just to make her thighs shudder at the sides of your head. Then it’s Yena’s turn to slobber all over your abs, leave painful hickeys and even more painful scars when you strike at her most sensitive nub.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’ll fuck your face forever, don’t stop, fuck!”

She likes that word so much—just like she likes thrusting her hips down, smacking her juices all over your features until her unannounced yet definitely noticeable orgasm that leaves you with a blurry vision of her trembling crotch. Yena’s smell and cum fill your nostrils as you try to take deep breaths, a grave mistake which leads to you falling into a coughing fit. Not a good final impression, but the idol does not seem to mind. With unsteady feet she gets off of your face just to sink to her knees beside you as the orgasm still rattles her mind.

Half a minute later, your coughing fit finally subsiding, Yena’s hands do not subside—like claws they cling to your abs and hips, making you hiss when she goes over the fresh wounds. She looks at you, brushes the wild strands of pink hair behind her ear and does what you assume is an apologetic gesture: Eyes still locked with yours, her lips gently kiss where faint droplets of blood come from and you throw your head back at—again—pain and pleasure. 

“I can’t get enough of this,” Yena hums and you continue to groan.

“I-it hurts, Yena.”

“I like marking my girls.”

Suddenly, her hand creeps in between your legs and you lock it right there with your thighs. Shit, you’re sensitive, needy for another round of her fingers getting you off. Yena however only brushes the bush of your unshaven pubic hair. Once more, she sighs, but this time it’s a lot less demanding; maybe she sounds hopeful?

“If you want another round,” she whispers. “Shave yourself ‘till tomorrow.

“Understood, my perfect little girl~?”

[woodlaflababab]

So, I got heavily inspired by this art by shange0211/Yishu and wanted to write a quick fic

This is just a snippet of Aang teaching Zuko how to dance.

-<>-

“Okay!” Aang started, brushing his hands over his robe to dispel nonexistent dust, “now that you know some simple solo moves, I want to teach you how to dance with other people.”

Zuko, who had progressively been getting over his reservations about this whole thing, went right back to looking at Aang like he was crazy. “What?”

“You know, dancing with a partner. Like the dragon dance, but uh,” Aang rubbed at the back of his head, “less firebending lessons.”

Zuko blinked at him a few times before putting his hands up and turning around. “No, I'm done.”

Before Zuko could take more than three steps, Aang was by his side, clinging to an arm. “Zuko!” Aang practically whined. “Come on, you've come this far, and dancing with other people is even more fun than dancing solo.” He tugged on Zuko's arm. “At least give it a shot.”

Zuko, becoming very familiar with this particular weakness of his, sighed and let Aang drag him to the middle of the room again.

“Okay, before I teach you any Fire Nation dances, I actually think we should start with a basic Earth Kingdom one.”

Zuko wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Why?”

“Fire Nation dances, while not as complicated as Water Tribe or air dances,” as Aang spoke, he backed away from Zuko and slid one hand behind his back while holding the other up in front of him, “move around, a lot.” With that, Aang started some dance routine, quickly moving across the floor. 

As he went, working his way around the room in a large circle, Zuko felt like he could kind of see where Aang was completing half of a dance, watching him move as though there was some phantom he danced with that only he could see. Zuko decided not to examine his immediate dislike for this theoretical phantom too closely.

After a bit, Aang seemed to close up his dance, coming to stand before Zuko once again and holding his hands neatly behind his back before dropping them. “Earth kingdom dances, however, tend to be simpler and easier to learn. At least,” he shrugged, “the common ones. There are a lot of special dances they do in specific cities or areas but I don't know a whole lot of those.”

Zuko had to refrain from snorting. Imagine that, Aang not knowing something. The way he went on sometimes, one would think he'd seen everything there was to see.

Aang paused for a second to think before lighting up again. “Oh! I know which one we can start with. It's actually a nobleman's dance, the rich people do it at parties and stuff, and it's really simple, give me your hand.” He stuck his own hand out expectantly.

Zuko hesitated just to nonverbally make the point that he thought this was stupid, but placed his hand inside Aang's nonetheless. He was then immediately thrown off his game as Aang pulled him forward so his hand could go on Aang's waist while Aang's went to his shoulder. Before Zuko could really catch up, Aang already had his other hand and was holding it out to their sides.

“This is the basic stance. Sometimes you break apart for other moves, but for the most part, you get to just stay like this and it's all in the foot work.” 

Aang grinned up at Zuko like that was supposed to reassure him, but Zuko was still trying to process the current situation.

“There's two parts to this, the lead and the follow. You should start by learning to lead though, that's what you're doing.” He nodded his head toward the side where he had his hand on Zuko's shoulder and Zuko's hand on his waist like that was supposed to mean anything to Zuko. “Now, just follow my steps. It's a basic three moves, okay?”

Aang looked up at him expectantly, and Zuko figured it sounded simple enough. Then something else occurred to him. “Wait, if I'm ‘leading’ why are you,” he hesitated as he tried to figure out how to word it, “leading?” was the word he uselessly landed on.

Thankfully Aang understood what he meant and let out a light easy laugh that coaxed some of the gathering tension from Zuko's shoulders. “It's just the name for things. Dancing isn't something you think about, you just do it. It doesn't matter what words you use, just follow me.”

“Whatever you say.” Zuko muttered.

Aang nodded before slowly taking a step back. It, a bit embarrassingly, took Zuko a second to figure out how he was supposed to follow Aang, but when he stepped forward to match Aang's movement, the proud grin he got as a reward seemed so much more poignant that close up.

Aang moved his other leg back in a bit of a sweep and Zuko, expecting it this time, followed along easily enough, ended by them bringing their feet back together. “Great!” Aang praised. “Now it's the same thing but backward, so now you step back.”

As he obeyed and repeated the moves backward, he found it was strangely gratifying as Aang moved with him step for step.

“Now we just do that box again.” With that, Aang once again stepped back.

Zuko followed after him as they moved smoothly through the cycle. It felt almost as easy as breathing, moving and matching Aang step for step and despite how simple the repetitive moves were, he was captivated. The flow of it, the simple trust that each step would be matched, how close they could be together and yet never run into each other. 

He found himself staring at Aang as Aang watched their hands for some reason Zuko was sure he'd never really understand. The simple focus in Aang, the ease with which he did everything, as though there really was nothing to think about, just movements shared, it was all fascinating to Zuko.

So much so that it took Zuko a moment to realize he was probably staring too hard when Aang turned back to him and gave him a weird look. Then it was Zuko's turn to look at their hands, but even that caught his eye in such an unexpected way. Getting to see the blue arrow cradled in his own hand as they glided over the floor, never wavering, like it was meant to rest there, caused a confusing flux of emotion he couldn't quite name.

Not that he'd ever been particularly good at that to begin with, but he felt even more lost than usual, like there was something he was missing.

“Zuko?”

Zuko's focus snapped back to Aang who was looking at him with an amused confusion. “You look like you're thinking, and I'm pretty sure I just said no thinking.” He teased and thankfully didn't ask about the thinking. Zuko had no idea how he'd answer.

So instead he latched onto the familiar easiness of teasing. “Sorry, not all of us can magically turn off our brains whenever we want.”

Aang's wide amused grin was almost difficult to witness when he was standing that close. “It's really not that hard. Maybe I should teach you how to meditate next.”

Zuko scowled. “I know how to meditate.”

“But you're really bad at it.” Aang pointed out without mercy. “Besides, maybe if I'm there it'll be easier to not overthink things.”

Zuko, for some strange reason, highly doubted that.

[yandere-sins]

Coffee Break

a/n: I love them so much ♥ And I can imagine they are one of the few couples that can absolutely wear their darling down into forced compliancy. Which is also the only compliancy in yandere I can accept. Dedicating this to @yandere-romanticaa for inspiring me to actually sit down and edit my story!! Hope you guys enjoy ♥

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail Characters: Yandere!Himeko x GN!Reader x Yandere!Welt Yang Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content (Innuendos, Dessous, Dub-Con Touches/Kisses, Hinting at sexual activities), Mention of Punishments, Kidnapping, Possessiveness, Broken Darling, Long Post

"Come now," Himeko chuckled, holding out her hand toward you invitingly. 

Excitement and adoration were sprinkled into her expression, her palm so open and tempting despite you knowing it would be cold and rigid once your hand rested in hers. Fingers curling around yours like a little cage of bones and nails digging into your skin possessively. She gestured for you to get out of bed and come to her, holding the—usually double-locked—door to Welt's room open for you.

"No one's here right now. Walk with me, please?"

You hesitated despite her beckoning, wrapping your soft blanket tighter around your body as if it were your shield. With Himeko, you never knew if it was safe to go to her; too many secrets hidden behind her smile. Compared to Welt, who carried his love for you on his sleeve, was open with and sometimes overshared his intentions, Himeko tended to test you. An invitation like this could have been a plot to lure you from one bed to another, stealing you from her partner-in-crime, which would only end in you being punished—not her. It was all under the guise of testing your love for her, both of them needing to believe you loved them more than the other, but going about it in different ways. They had a strict schedule about who got you when, after all. But Himeko liked bending the rules in ways she knew Welt wouldn't fight her over. 

But when you saw the twitch in Himeko's smile, a dangerous indication of her patience with you running out, you forced yourself to peel out of your cocoon and walk towards her. At the end of every defiance, you feared all the means she had to get you to move too much to resist her invitation. Her gaze followed your every move, a delighted hum escaping her as she noticed yet another new outfit Welt bought you, the fabric as red as her hair, but the coverage barely existed as was intended for a skimpy negligee that Welt so liked. He enjoyed providing you with the finer things in life, and Himeko had no reason to argue with him when she appreciated the view of her darling's body being caressed by silk and velvet just as much, the fabrics dancing and playing around your curves. Revealing just enough to remind her of the last time she had you in her bed, beneath her fingertips and lips.

To your surprise, you two passed by her room as she dragged you after her. Usually, your trips outside were sparse and short to avoid curious onlookers you knew resided on the Express but never met in all your time here. Himeko and Welt were busy enough sharing your attention between themselves; they didn't want to risk any more eyes catching a glimpse of their treasured pet. Sharing wasn't the easiest for them, so they sneakily avoided the others by keeping you in either of their rooms most of the time. Gagged and bound if necessary. 

It had been a long time since your last "tantrum", and you were running low on energy after what felt like years since Himeko took you away from your homeland. But time wasn't linear in space, and you had no idea how much of it had passed, only ever watching the stars twinkle by outside your window. Just like they did in the hallway as you passed room after room of the passenger quarters, the engine not rumbling beneath your cold, barefooted feet for once as you hurried after Himeko, her hand threateningly tight around yours. As if it was a silent reminder to be nice. To play along. 

The parlor car hadn't changed ever since you boarded the train. No one besides you two resided in it, which was disappointing yet expected. Himeko wouldn't take you for a stroll if she feared anyone could be sneaking a glance at her beloved, aside from Pom-Pom. Then again, it wasn't like Pom-Pom had spared you a speck of attention ever since they got reprimanded for it by Himeko. Now, the two of you ignored each other whenever you did meet. 

She led you to one of the fancy lounge chairs, and immediately, you were hit with the unmistakable smell of freshly brewed coffee, a pot and cup already standing ready on the table. Unfortunately, the smell of coffee had become one of your most hated scents, reminding you too much of the captor at fault for most of your misery. But when Himeko took a seat, smiling up at you from below as she asked you to come closer, tugging at your hand urgently, you knew you were in for another taste of bitterness. 

The chair didn't provide enough space for both of you, but with your legs draped over hers and your body pressed against Himeko's, you two managed. The more closeness she had to you, the better, and it allowed her to hold both of her favorite things at the same time—the coffee cup and you. 

"Here's a little treat for someone who's been good all week," she chimed merrily, reaching for the cup and holding it out to you. Your mind was hesitant to take it, counting down the pros and cons of accepting her "kindness". Knowing that Himeko expected more from you than merely holding the warm porcelain in your palms. Still, your body moved on its own, worn down from so many refusals and punishments that had chipped away at your resistance. As always, it had the perfect temperature, your cold hands warming up, and you shivered lightly, realizing just how cold you were. No wonder you liked to bundle up so much, considering your body was aching from the lack of true warmth and clothes around you. 

"Feel free to take a sip, Darling," Himeko encouraged you, her hand coming to rest on your thigh, her thumb tracing back and forth reassuringly. Her touch was an unnerving feeling, too light, too kind, when you knew the destruction it could bring. Your body had felt enough stinging pain and searing burns to know better than to fall for the tenderness in her caresses. The heavy scent of coffee rose to your nose from below, enveloping you almost like a caffeine drug. Himeko's fingers pressed down a little harder, a little more urgently, and you knew the only way to rest her mind was to obey.

Pressing the porcelain edge to your lips, you allowed the heavy liquid to slip into your mouth, coating the inside in bitter and tangy tastes while it slid down your throat. The drink was as putrid as your captor, rich in flavor that lingered too long to enjoy, just like Himeko's touches, unwanted but unforgettable. These sensations would forever stay with you, whether you wanted or not. As you swallowed the coffee, for a moment, it felt like it was strangling you, violently demanding appreciation that you couldn't give, viciously and hot. You flinched because of the unexpected high temperature of the beverage, burning your tongue as it made its way over it, and quickly stopped drinking more than a small sip. That was enough to leave an aftertaste so nasty you wanted to cry.

"How adorable~" she murmured, and you felt a rush of shame flood your face as you felt vulnerable, jerking from a sip of bitter coffee. Himeko's preferred way of preparing her coffee wasn't as easy on the stomach for someone who rarely got to taste it, and the cold aftertaste after the pain settled down was worse than that of a cigarette, lingering too long and overstaying its welcome. Still, her hand squeezing your thigh before releasing it briefly—no burn or cut or bruise left where she touched you—told you she was satisfied, and you handed the cup back, catching the glint of delight in her eyes as you watched her drink.

Holding the coffee to her own lips, she let the aroma tickle her senses for a long moment. With her eyes closed and a content smile playing around the corners of her mouth, she appreciated her favorite smell. You'd never be able to see eye to eye with her, be it in choice of drink or kidnapping and keeping you like a bed-pet locked in her room. Yet, you almost had to admire her for the serenity she displayed, sipping her coffee from the same spot on the cup you had drank from while continuing to caress your thigh over her legs. Himeko looked like she had no worries and no rush. Living completely in the moment while you felt stuck in a loop of your past, unable to ever move on from it. She massaged your skin under her dainty fingertips, running her nails up and down your leg while reveling in her coffee, a pleased sigh escaping her when she lowered the cup.

"Himeko–!"

The sudden call of her name was preceded by a loud bang as the door to the parlor car flew open, and you jumped, almost causing Himeko to spill coffee all over herself. Lucky for you, she had a steady grip on both you and the cup, saving you from more punishment than her nails cutting into your leg accidentally from the movement. 

Through the door, Welt ran in, eyes blown wide, frantically searching for his long-time travel companion. Himeko, in turn, took another sip of her coffee, unbothered or perhaps having expected this reaction from him. Welt's eyes snapped to the prominent red of Himeko's hair, then came to an abrupt halt on you, immediately softening as he blew out a breath of relief. 

"Say 'hello' to Mr. Yang, Dear."

Himeko nudged you, an amused smile on her face, and you raised your hand half-heartedly in a greeting before tugging it back against your stomach, making yourself small. Welt drove his hand through his hair before letting out a sigh. "Couldn't you have told me?" he asked, clearly distressed, though Welt tried to sound calm while eyeing Himeko with a mix of agitation and annoyance. "I come home, and our darling is gone!"

Welt wasn't a man who got angry easily and without reason, but had you had any sympathy for him in this situation, you could understand how the disappearance of a person he kept locked away and safe might cause panic. However, when he crossed the distance in long, confident strides, stepping up next to Himeko's and your chair, his palm on your back was gentle, just like the longing, reverent kiss he planted lovingly on the top of your head. 

"Hello, you two," he formally greeted you, his expression softening and voice calming down with affection for you, the panic almost a thing of the past. All the tension left him with another sigh, making him look like an old man, and he sunk into the chair across from Himeko and you. However, the reflection in his eyes was always you, as if he was scared to lose you from his sight again. 

You heard the pitter-patter of small, squeaky feet hurrying over, Pom-Pom setting down another cup, and you met the shining blue eyes of the small creature, wondering what they saw when they looked at you. But just as quickly, they walked away, unbothered by your silent plea for help. It was another bitter reminder that Himeko was in charge. In charge of you.

"I thought you'd be out a bit longer, Welt. I'm surprised to see you so soon."

"My trip didn't take that long. I just wanted to look around the shops for a little while the other three went to do their thing."

"Not so eager to join them this time, are we?"

"I could say the same about you, Himeko."

To the untrained eye and ear, their banter and smiles were friendly conversations, but you heard both Himeko's "Why are you back so soon? I wanted more time with our Darling alone" and Welt's "I also wanted to use this chance to spend some time with them, now that the others are gone". They were nice to each other but, at the same time, jealous about the opportunity the other interrupted. 

"Why don't you pour Mr. Yang some coffee, Dearest?" Himeko suddenly turned her attention to you. You were torn out of your thoughts, needing a moment to understand what she was saying and making her chuckle at your clueless look before you put yourself into motion, sliding off her and onto your feet. With both of them present, there was no time for defiance, even though you were sure Welt would soften any punishment Himeko could come up with for you. However, his restraints would still hurt. 

As if walking over to him in your skimpy clothes and pouring him a cup of Himeko's coffee like a servant wasn't enough punishment.

Himeko didn't release you from her hold without another possessive squeeze, fingertips digging deep into your skin as if to leave her scorching marks on your body. As if she hated the idea you'd come to forget her the moment she let go. Her hands never left you completely until you stood on your feet, the cold floor stinging against your bare skin. Her touch remained like a ghost on your back and arm while you felt her eyes follow your every step, dragging from your head to toe as she enjoyed the view. 

Picking up the pot, you stood next to Welt as you poured his coffee, feeling rigid and cold, while it was his turn to feel you up. His hand strategically ran up your thigh, brushing aside the red silk and exposing more of your body to him, his attention more on the few glimpses he got of your body than the cup you were filling for him, his gaze wantonly and full of desire. Even when his fingers snaked beneath the elastics that kept the fabric snug to your body, you knew he wasn't just innocently admiring something pretty but rather soaking in the knowledge of how you felt beneath his touch, his thoughts never as chaste as he made his intentions out to be.

"You're a marvel, Darling," he muttered, and your skin erupted in goosebumps hearing his words so full of conviction. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to your arm, lips lingering for a tad too long in his worship. There was no insincerity in his affection, but it wasn't something you could completely let yourself fall into, knowing that for every finger you gave him, he'd take your whole hand.

If looks could gobble someone up, Welt would have devoured completely. Just like he dominated every second of your attention when you two were alone, you could clearly see the longing in his eyes. The very same one that never seemed to be satisfied, no matter how many hours you writhed beneath him. The same one that drove him to sketch a million poses of you, but in the end... It was never enough for him.

"Thank you, my Dear," he hummed, a smile playing around his lips as Welt received the cup from you. However, he set it down just as quickly, instead catching your hand to kiss the top of your knuckles, his other hand too occupied being stuck beneath your ass, squeezing and nudging your inner thigh with his fingertips. It had only been half a day, and you could feel his yearning for you in every gesture and every devoted glance. 

You shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut while you took a deep breath to calm yourself, hoping it would be over soon. That, whatever either of them planned, would pass quickly, and you'd be able to hide beneath the blankets again, alone, your only place of comfort. 

You were surprised when Welt let your hand go, trying his coffee and complimenting the chef even though you knew he wasn't the biggest fan of the bitterness either. You couldn't fathom that your life could be like this, easy and without either of them trying to harm you anymore. That there could actually be a time when you three lived in truce, undisturbed by bickering and fighting over you, or you trying your darndest best not to bend to their will. It was oddly peaceful, even though every nerve in your body tingled, knowing it was wrong. Expecting something to happen any second now.

As if you were undeserving of peace.

"Come here," you heard Himeko say from behind you, and you looked back over your shoulder, her hand stretched out expectantly toward you. Inviting, waiting. Again, it made you fearful, but you took it without hesitations this time, a slight tug from her enough to release you from Welt while she brought you back to her chair and lap, fluffing out her coat to envelop you in it. It was warm, and you snuggled in before you knew what was happening. She and Welt had a civil, yes even friendly conversation. And for the first time, it wasn't about you despite your presence. Like ordinary people, drinking their coffee, with their pet human sprawled over one of their laps, graced with smiles from across the table ever so often, and you began to wonder.

When did things change?

When was the last time you fought against them? Struggled and screamed from the top of your lungs? Begged Pom-Pom for help? You thought it was only yesterday that you threw that damn coffee cup across the train, but you drank it today without complaint. When had you last disobeyed, not to give in right away, but stay defiant and with the goal of being free in mind? Now you were fumbling the seams of a negligee you weren't as embarrassed being seen in anymore by your captors. All of your body told you you were still fighting, denying the existence of peace between you three. 

But as you sat on Himeko's lap, watching the stars twinkle through the big window and listened to their laughter and cheerful voices, you realized it had been a while since you fought for yourself. At some point, you had just… stopped.

And this was the reward. 

Warmth. Serenity. 

Tenderness, kindness, love.

Himeko took you outside because you were behaving well. Because she could trust you wouldn't run or do something she disapproved of. Welt had been worried, but when you greeted him, even he had realized everything was okay. She told you what to do, and you did it, even if it meant serving your captor, not wanting to cause a scene anymore. You feared punishment, but neither of them had even threatened it. You had just… given up. 

Tears shot into your eyes as you realized your compliance. How your body was schooled to mistrust after all this time, yet you still did as you were told without arguing, even if it hurt you. Little by little, they had chipped away at your resistance, punishment turning into reward. Cold into warmth. Anger into peace. You had long feared these people, yet you were resting your head against Himeko's shoulder, waving at Welt, the corners of your lips even quirking into a smile unintentionally when you caught him smiling at you. You always thought the life they forced you into was scary.

But were you still living in the same horror as before?   

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing With Visions - According to Plan - Romany Polka - Freminet

Author Notes: So, I won't lie this was my first time writing for Freminet and it was really, really difficult. I ended up having to use Lyney and Lynette to help me along through writing this, but I think it turned out alright. The performance in this fic was inspired by a performance of the Romany Polka that I watched on youtube. Just like the rest of this series, Reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ dance/ fluff/sfw

Word Count: 1436

I honestly felt bad for Freminet. Yes, we were friends, but that didn’t make it any less cruel of Lyney and Lynette to assert that he simply had to be the one to teach me how to polka. 

Nonetheless, all three of the trio were determined that I had to know the polka so that I could dance alongside everyone else at the ball for at least one round of dancing.

 They'd managed to get me invited too, even though I was fairly certain that it was supposed to be a Fatui-only function.

Soft spoken as ever, Lynette looked at us from where she sat next to the gramophone, her expression not holding an ounce of sympathy for me or my partner, “Are you ready?”

I glanced over at Freminet, feeling distinctly guilty even as we both nodded to his sister that yes. We were ready.

I turned to face Freminet as the music started, just as they’d told me to do, and he quietly held out his hand, his shyness already rearing its head even as he was instructing me on my motions, “Okay, you’ll take my hand, and when I bow, you’ll curtsey.”

I mirrored his motions carefully, dipping down at the same time he did before straightening once more as strings filled the air. 

“Okay, I’ll raise my arm now, and you’ll twirl under it. When you come back around, we’ll be side by side, and your hand will rest on my shoulder,” His gaze evaded mine as he spoke, but I nodded. Following his soft-spoken instructions as I carefully, but awkwardly, did as he instructed.

My hand found his shoulder easily, and I glanced his way, noting how he swallowed nervously, his gaze still pointedly avoiding mine, “Okay, now we walk forward. When I rock forward onto the front leg, you do the same.”

I walked quietly next to him, watching how he placed his feet for further instruction and matching his stride. I almost entirely missed the rock forward and barely caught myself in time, fumbling to keep matching him.

If he noticed the near mishap though, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he nodded at me, his gaze for once steadily meeting mine before he looked away again as soon as he began to speak, “Now we separate and each turn in a circle with our arms out, like this…”

  He trailed off, showing me how he walked in a slow circle with his arms spread as if he were requesting a hug. And I mirrored his motions, though it was far more awkward looking as I did it. But when I made it back around, he only nodded, “During the actual dance, you’ll do it at the same time as your partner.”

He held out his hands, looking down at them as I slipped my own into his grasp. Feeling his fingers curl timidly around my hands as he spoke, his voice somehow getting softer than it already had been so that I had to lean forward slightly to hear his words, “Now we’ll keep skipping in that same circle we walked in before…. But this time we’ll need to swing out, letting go with these hands.” He paused, swallowing thickly before nodding, more to himself than to me, and continuing, “Just follow me.”

I had no doubts that our little circuit around the room was beyond awkward looking, judging from the amused smile on Lyney’s face from where he propped against the door as he watched us. But we made it through, progressing through the dance.

Freminet’s other hand took mine again, and he nodded, almost like he was speaking more to himself than me, “Same motion, just stay in place and skip lightly.”

I did as instructed, feeling slightly silly and giggling nervously. At the sound of my laughter, a smile flickered across the young man’s face before he flushed slightly and looked away from me again.

“Uh.. Now we separate and you twirl in place,” Again, I did as instructed. And as I faced him, he was waiting. 

He reached out with one arm and wrapped it around my waist nervously as he spoke, his voice cracking slightly, “Your hand goes on my shoulder here.”

I nodded, finding myself smiling at the young man as his gaze darted to my face and then back away again at impressive speeds.

He started me off, trotting with me and rotating us along a larger circle whose course we’d stayed on this entire time. 

We paused and he nodded again, seeming to gather courage to speak once more, “Uh… it might be best to just watch what I do and mimic the footwork here…. It's a bit hard to explain.”

Obediently, I stepped away from him and I looked down. Watching with a slight frown before I did my very best to match his practiced, unhesitating motions, before he began to polka me along the floor once more. 

We paused again,and he held out his arm, letting me twirl under it without even having to instruct me this time as we went.

And then he remained silent for a while, only letting out a half-relieved exhale as he let me mimic his motions before he suddenly twitched slightly, “We separate here and go in a circle around each other.”

I felt myself frown in confusion at his words, and his eyes widened before he looked, almost pleadingly over towards Lyney, who let out a laugh at his brother’s distress before stepping over and instructing me, “You’ll go forward, end up behind Freminet, and then shift back until you’re facing one another again.”

I let out a tiny, “Oh,” before doing as instructed. But now Lyney stayed, offering instruction himself, as Freminet led me through the steps. Though Lyney did actually stay silent for the most part. Letting me just follow Freminet’s steady, if shy, lead.

“You’ll separate now. Just follow Freminet’s lead though, and you’ll be fine,” At Lyney’s instruction, I did as I was told. Watching Freminet closely as we both trotted backwards, crossing our arms in front of us as we moved, before we finally stopped in place. Lightly kicking out one foot and then the other before we trotted back towards each other.

Freminet let out an ever-soft, “Excuse me,” as his arm wrapped around my waist and I hurriedly copied his motions as we spun with our other arm raised.

The song changed as we spun, becoming somehow more lighthearted, and Lyney began clapping along as our positions shifted back to a more typical hold for dances, and we began trotting around the room again in that same circle we’d been in before.

Our motions repeated, and I found myself starting to smile as I fell more and more into the rhythm of the dance.

I barely noticed as Lyney retreated. A sly smile on his face as his eyes stayed on us as we rotated around the room, gradually picking up speed to match the tempo of the song until we were spinning in place with me giggling slightly before we hopped apart.

Freminet landed in a practiced pose. Looking like the perfect image of  a young prince from a fairytale as one of his hands remained holding mine and his other raised in the air as if to signal the end of the dance.

His gaze finally met mine as I hurriedly matched his pose, and both Lyney and Lynette started applauding us.

“That was all but perfect! You both looked amazing,” Lyney cheered excitedly as we hurriedly parted, with my eyes widening slightly at Lyney’s words. 

Freminet looked away from me with a slight flush appearing on his face, coughing lightly before he looked towards his brother,  “I still think one of you would have been a better teacher.”

Lynette walked over from where she’d stood, already shaking her head as she came to a stop next to me, “No, you were a good choice, Freminet. You two should dance again together at the ball tomorrow night.”

She looked towards me with a slight smile, and I found myself looking towards Freminet, lifting my shoulder slightly. I didn’t want to force the young man, but….

“That sounds nice… if you don’t mind?”

I carefully left him an opening as I smiled hopefully at him, and I watched as Freminet’s eyes widened before he looked away hurriedly, nodding slightly as his fingers curled into his palm, “Okay…. If you want to.”

I smiled at his words, ignoring the way Lyney and Lynette both smiled as if things had gone perfectly according to plan.

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[simplydozing]

¡𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬 𝐚 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫!

Cardinal Copia x Hispanic!Reader You teach Copia Some new moves. Word Count: 763 || Blurb/Ficlet

A/N: This Was Self-Indulgent As Hell. I Took Heavy Inspiration From Teaching My Friend The Same Dance (Half Hispanic Gang Rise Up!). Love Her, But She's Got Two Left Feet 😭 Plus, I Know For A Fact Copia/Papa/Frater Would Without A Doubt Kill This Dace, Hands Down. ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“Try not to think about it too hard, Cope.”

You were shifting from side to side, matching the rhythm of the current song that played. Copia was trying to bounce on his feet like the way you showed him, but it looked like he was just changing which leg to stand on.

 He had heard you from a few rooms over and wanted to see what the commotion was, only to find you twirling and bouncing around with your arms out pretending to have a partner. He watched you with eyes the size of dinner plates. You moved kind of like he does on stage, but there was more to it than that.

 It looked quite fun, and you were shocked when he decided to ask you to teach him to dance.

 Yet for him to pirouette and leap like a ballerina, he was surprisingly stiff.

“Here, mira,” you walk to the other side of the room.

“Walk to me, but stay on beat,” you hold your arms out.

 He hesitates, taking a second to feel the music. His feet match up perfectly to the music when he walks.

“Good! Now backwards, bend your knees and shift your hips.”

You take him by the hands and lead him back to the other side, demonstrating what he’s supposed to be doing.

 He mirrors you, albeit a little more awkward looking. He is starting to loosen up, though.

“Now, put it all together with a few small jumps and spins in between,” you hold him by his waist and his other outstretched hand.

 You take it slow, going back and forth in a line until he copies you entirely.

 You speed it up little by little. He finds it unbelievable how quick he’s learning this, and gives a small laugh.

“I’m doing it!”

“You’re doing it!” You repeat.

 Seeing him finally get the basics of it makes you excited. You pull him closer, now being chest-to-chest. Your knee finds a spot between his legs. You can feel him tense under your touch. He swallows nervously.

“Now, ready for the fun part?”

He shakes his head but you shrug it off.

  “Just follow my lead. We’re going to go fast, okay? It’s much easier with a partner, for me anyway,” you prepare him for what’s about to go down. You decide to be generous and wait for the next song, currently tapping your foot and nodding your head to the beat of the finishing one.

 You start dancing when the next one plays. And lucky you! It’s your favorite song to dance to.

 The beat is easy to follow, but it’s still fast-paced. You both twirl around the room. He actually adjusts to it pretty well and goes along with you and the rhythm! His body meshes with yours almost flawlessly.

 Your favorite part is coming up. You slow everything down and dance in place, bracing Copia for what comes next.

“Here comes the best part!”

 You spin one more time, stopping afterward to dig your knee further between his legs when the climax of the song rises.

“Shake it, Copia!”

 You rock your leg to set the pace for him to roll his hips.

 He’ll do anything involving him swinging them. He lights up as he does so, once again to the rhythm of the song. He looks in your eyes with pride when it’s over. You beam up at him.

 You end the dance by dipping him.

 You’re both breathless.

 There’s a sense of fulfillment overfilling you. You’ve never been able to dance with someone the way you danced with Copia just now. You’ve never had a dance partner unlike him, and he’s just learning.

 In the moment, you forget all about how you’re holding him.

 He gives your arm a squeeze, bringing you back to reality.

 You clear your throat and lift him up.

 He brushes himself off and you turn the music off.

“That was…marvelous!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Can I use this at my next show?”

“Ha! You can if you redo what you did but with better footwork,” you smirk and jokingly slap his chest.

 You both share a laughing fit before leaving the space.

“By the way, what do you call that?”

“Huapango!”

He started using it on stage after the encores when everything was done and the audience was clearing out. He’d even rope his ghouls into it, mainly Sodo or Phantom. They were understandably lost but somehow managed to keep up with him.

 And you better believe he asked you to teach them too.

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Could Sure Use Your Company (Joel Miller)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: As Joel attempts to settle into Jackson something completely unexpected happens; he meets you. Inspired by Pam Tillis' - In Between Dances.

"See ya finally decided to come out an socialize" Tommy greets Joel at the entrance to the Tipsy Bison with a hard pat on the back.

"Well, ya been buggin' me for the past two weeks, not like I had much a choice" Joel mutters under his breath as they make their way to the bar.

"Ya needed this, so stop complainin'..." Tommy scowls, standing behind the bar as he poured them both a drink.

"After what Ellie and ya went through... it's time to destress."

"We'll be fine" Joel grumbles against the rim of the whisky glass.

"Ellie's beginnin' to fall in with the lifestyle, but ya still about; 'waiting on the other shoe to drop'..." Tommy responds.

"Ya need to relax, Joel. Sit back, have a few rounds an enjoy the nice Friday evenin'."

Stepping away; Tommy left Joel to his own device, to tend to the other patrons at the bar. The bar was surprisingly busy; couples slow dancing in the centre of the room to the sounds of a fiddle being flawlessly played by an older gentle sat on a small stage against the sidewall.

Silently savoring his drink whilst watching Tommy work behind the bar, Joel's eyes flutter shut as the fiddler begins to play a familiar song. The sense of tranquility soon vanishes when a feminine voice begins singing the words that accompany it.

*

There's room at my table, why don't you pull up a seat? The music's inviting but I'm staying off of my feet The floor's getting crowded, but I don't wanna take part I bet you can guess it's got something to do with my heart

Turning around as if hypnotized by the voice, Joel finds himself staring at what could only be described as a pure vision. The woman was beautiful, almost angel like. The entire scene felt like from a movie as Joel watched her through the crowd of dancing couples; eyes shut tightly as she poured her soul into the song.

*

I could sure use your company now But don't be mistaking my smile I'm only in between dances Sitting it out for a while

The partners are chosen, look at them waltzing away The tempo gets slower, closer and closer they sway

I've had my moments when I could get lost in the sound But when the song ended the one in my arms let me down

Joel was entranced as he continued to watch her, he hadn't heard a voice as beautiful and soulful as hers in a long time. It made his fingers ich in yearning for his old guitar, for the opportunity to string the chords in synchronize with that perfect voice. Not only that, but to be able to get to know the person attached to the voice as well.

Joel's breath catches in his throat suddenly when the most magically moment happens then; her eyes gently flutter open and make direct contact with his own, a soft smile crossing her lips as she continues. *

Have you been in my shoes? I search your eyes for signs Will you remain, remember my name After closing time

I'm only in between dances Sitting it out for a while...

The song ends as everyone stops to give cheer as she giggles while bowing.

"See ya taken a liking to our residential songstress..." Tommy remarks, snapping Joel from his daze.

"Huh? What?"

"Y/N..." Tommy answers with a head tilt.

"She's the music teacher. Likes to entertain 'em once every weekend, when she's not working behind the bar that is."

"Uh... got a nice voice" Joel mutters after clearing his voice.

"That she does" Tommy responds with a knowing smirk.

"Sure that ain't all ya noticed."

"Don't know what ya mean" Joel frowns, throwing back the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"Ya forget I'm ya brother. I know that look..."

"What look?" Joel scoffs, his facial expression turning anxious when you suddenly appear next to Tommy behind the bar.

"Great work as always, Songbird..." Tommy remarks, pulling you into his side for a hug.

"Thanks" you lightly slap his chest with a soft chuckle and that's when you notice the older man seated in front of you.

 "Hi..." you smile at the man that looked similar to Tommy.

Joel, at lost for words; stared open-mouthed at you until Tommy saves him.

"This is my brother, Joel. Joel, this is Y/N..."

"Pleased to meet you" you reach out a hand in greeting.

Snapping himself out of his stupider; Joel hastily grips your hand, making an even stupider move.

"Please to me you too... Names, Joels."

"I know..." you smirk in response as Tommy softly snickers beside you.

Joel shuts his eyes, letting out a pained groan, "he said that already."

"Yup" you place the other hand over one the one that was holding yours, gently patting it.

"Don't worry about it. Ya good."

Slowly cracking his eyes open, Joel was met with most genuine smile he had received in ages.

"Say, Joel was just busy complimenting ya singing before this..." Tommy interrupts the moment then.

"Thank you" you blush in response.

"Ol' Charlie's good on the fiddle but it could really have used the backup of a base guitar."

"Joel plays base!" Tommy eagerly volunteers.

"Seriously...?!" you stare at Joel in fascination.

"Ahem... used to play, ya mean" Joel splutters out, silently staring daggers at Tommy.

"That's too bad..." your shoulders sadly drop.

"Would've been a great if you could demonstrate a bit for the kids. Charlie's already shown 'em how the fiddle works, and I teach them on the piano, just never been good with the guitar."

Feeling like an asshole for making your smile disappear, Joel attempts to soothe you.

"Ain't got my guitar no more, that why."

Your eyes suddenly spark up then, "so, you're saying; if you had one you would?"

Joel breaks out in a nervous sweat as he looked deep into your hopeful eyes. Not wanting to see the sad look of disappointment in them again; he caves.

"I might."

"Great! I'll see if I can get one!" you perk up in excitement.

"Let me get ya another drink" you offer, spinning around to grab the whisky.

What you didn't see during that moment; was Tommy bouncing his eyebrows suggestively at his brother, while Joel silently flipped him the bird in response.

"Great..." Joel mutters out, rubbing at his brow with a heavy sigh.

"Here ya go..." you place the drink in front of Joel with a broad smile.

"Thanks" he flashes you a shy dimpled smile in response. Lifting the glass to his lips, Joel's eyes fall onto your ass when you walk away to tend to someone else.

"Lord... help me..." he mutters into the glass, knocking it back in one go.

Part 2

[audrey-carr1]

Good Luck, Baroness

A/N: This is the other side of my Chappell-inspired fic. They are not related to each other except for the fact that they were inspired by Rebecca saying she loves Chappell Roan. For extra feeling, listen to this orchestral cover while reading: Good luck, Babe. It'll help set the mood lol

Summary: At a party, you try to warn Hetty of a life-altering event for her. Hetty alters the trajectory of both of your lives instead.

warnings: fem!reader, Angst, all hurt no comfort, young hetty

word count: 2.5k+

1893

Hetty cannot sleep, or atleast she cannot sleep well. Her mind constantly racing with thoughts and worries. She has tried countless remedies, and nothing seems to ease her troubles. She is not the best mother to her children, she does not have close friends, and her marriage is on the rocks. A stark contrast to when she was younger. Hetty was always being called upon by friends especially one in particular. Your name hangs on the tip of Hetty’s tongue, almost bitter to the taste as she has tried to forget it without much success. A lump forms in Hetty’s throat as she remembers that dreaded night almost 18 years ago. Getting up from her bed Hetty makes her way to her desk and quickly pulls out her stationary. 

1876

You watched as Hetty charms the room of the party. Hetty has always been the better socialite, while you preferred being a wallflower. Your mother always scolded and wondered why you for not putting yourself in the view of potential suitors. It’s not like you could tell her that you and your best friend have been romantically involved for over a year now. 

This night, however, Hetty has not spoken one word to you barely acknowledging your presence. A little fire burns within you as you watch her flirt with the men around her. You hear the orchestra start to play, and you then feel the presence of someone next to you. 

“Excuse me, but I noticed you from across the room and I was wondering if you would like to dance,” The man says. You would like to say No, but you do not want your ear talked off by your mother if she were to find out you declined a possible suitor. You watch as Hetty makes her way to the center of the room to join the other dancers. You plaster the sweetest smile on your face before saying, “ I would love to.” 

The man takes your hand as he leads you to the dance floor, and it’s by chance that you and Hetty are in each other’s line of sight. She finally acknowledges your presence, surprised to find you on the dance floor with someone. You decide it is your turn to ignore her, and you give your attention to your dance partner. You cannot remember if he as introduced himself, but you also cannot bring yourself to care. 

Hetty watches you glide across the room with the ease of a practiced dancer. She snorts to herself as she knows that you hate dancing, at least not with her. A bit of jealousy forms within her as she watches you give your entire attention to him. Her nails dig into her partner’s suit jacket as she watches you smile and bat your eyes at someone who is not her. Hetty realizes her tenseness and takes a relaxing breath. She tries to focus on her own dance partner, but she finds it nearly impossible to break her eyes away from you. She must admit that you do look beautiful tonight. The color of your dress compliments your skin tone, and your is hair curled and pinned in an updo that shows off the delicate features of your face. Even from a distance, Hetty can tell that the light of the room gives your eyes a warmth that could melt glaciers on sight. Hetty is absolutely smitten by your beauty. In her admiration, she notices as your partner’s hand slowly grazes your back, and Hetty’s jaw clenches. Hetty tries to tell herself that she has no right to be jealous. Especially after what she is about to do to you. 

Even still Hetty cannot draw her eyes from you. She has never knew her little wallflower could dazzle the room in such a way. The swell of the music along with her predicament made the room feel a bit stifling. She watched as your dance partner whispered something in your ear, and how you blushed. Hetty now realized why you had would always stare daggers at the men who would do the same to her. Only Hetty wanted to be the one who could make you blush or bring out the melody of your laughter. Hetty quickly shakes her head of her thoughts. She cannot think like that. Not tonight.

The dance soon ends and everyone applauds the musicians. Hetty watches as you excuse yourself and resume your post at the back of the room, and your dance partner going elsewhere. Hetty goes back to her group and continues the conversation from before.

Finally you allow your attentions go back to Hetty, and for a moment you two lock eyes. You smile at her, and she does the same. You both quickly avert your gazes, but in your peripheral you see a man lean in closer to Hetty to whisper something in her hear that makes Hetty cover her mouth hiding her laughter. You sharply inhale at the gesture, but soothe yourself. You know where her loyalty truly lies and it is with you.

Quite frankly you enjoy watching the party-goers, it is much easier to obtain gossip if you are not perceived as a threat. Although, the latest thread of gossip you hear almost causes you to leave the party all together. You have learned that Hetty’s father is considering a marriage between her and Elias to secure a land deal.

A small fire starts inside of you as you want to throttle Hetty’s father and Elias for treating women as property. You wish you could tell them, society, and their rules to screw off, but you knew better. That would only cause shame upon yourself. If it were even to get out that you were attracted to the fairer sex, that would be enough to bring shame and misfortune upon your family. 

While you are so deep in your thoughts you do not see Hetty finally break away from the group that she is been talking with and making her way over to you.

“I wonder if the men I’ve been to talking can feel you stare daggers into them” Hetty says quietly standing next you. You try to hide the surprise from your face.

“I hope they can,” You say quickly, your lips in a slight pout.

“(y/n), stop pouting. You know how these parties work. Nothing has changed, and nothing will change,” Hetty says her eyes scanning the room. There is a beat of silence between you as you ponder if you should tell Hetty now or later. You decide on the former.

“I need to speak with you privately,” You say looking up at her, “It is urgent.”

“Lead the way,” Hetty says wishing she had a bit of wine to settle her nerves. 

The two of you go outside and into the gardens. You spot a bench underneath a tree, and pull Hetty along. 

“What is so important that we must talk so privately?” Hetty asks. 

“You know any other time you would be overjoyed to sneak away. To have a moment  to reach a hand under my dress and have one under yours,” You quip. You see Hetty blush underneath her pale makeup, and you smile to yourself. 

“I pulled you out here, because I have heard some gossip about you that you need to be aware of,” You say in a hushed tone even if you two were the only people around. 

“Well please enlighten me, you know I hate to be kept waiting,” Hetty says.

“I have heard that your father is intending to marry you off to your cousin Elias,” You tell her.

Hetty sits in silence, and you assume it is because she is as stunned as you were when you heard of the arrangement. Hetty clears her throat and avoids your gaze. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as she has never avoided your eyes before. 

“Hetty I did not mean to upset you with this news, I only needed you to know so you were not surprised later,” You explain. 

“I have known,” Hetty says quietly still not meeting your gaze.

“Excuse me?” You say not trusting your hearing.

“I have known of this arrangement. In fact it has already been solidified. Elias is set to propose any day now to make it official,” Hetty says finally meeting your eyes.

Your eyes begin to buzz as your brain tries to process what it is you just heard.

“How long have you known?” You ask. That tiny fire inside threatening to become an inferno. 

“I wanted to tell you sooner it is ju-” Hetty stumbles over her words trying to find the right words to say to not further upset you.

“How long have you known?” You ask again slightly louder. You quickly come to your senses as you remember where it is you are. 

“Six months,” Hetty admits.

“Six months? We’ve been together a year, so that is practically half our relationship,” You stand up quickly and Hetty quickly reaches her hand out to steady you.

“Six months! Hetty that is almost half a year,” You are beyond astonished at the news.

“I am aware how time works, my dear,” Hetty says a bit annoyed. Hetty usually loved how you were always so factual, but in this moment it only shows how poorly Hetty has been treating you. The last thing Hetty wanted was to talk about this predicament let alone talk about it at a party. This is last place she would chosen for a lover’s quarrel if that is what you could call this. 

“Do not “my dear” me. You have been keeping secrets. I tell you everything!” Your voice is edgier now. Raising in pitch as the fire within you blazes.

“Will you please keep your voice down,” Hetty says standing up to face you, “The last thing we need is an audience.”

Hetty sees the fire behind your eyes, and cannot stand to be the one who put it there. Still she maintains her posture, and does not show an ounce of regret.!

“What are you embarrassed? Does our friendship mean nothing to you? Has the last year meant anything to you?”  You ask, and Hetty does not answer. 

You try again, “Do I mean anything to you?”

You tried to ignore the bitter taste in your mouth at Hetty’s continued silence. Hetty tried to keep a strong front, but her resolve was starting to fall. 

“Hetty this is a mistake, you cannot marry him,” You plead grabbing her hands. 

“And whom do you think I should marry instead? You? Don’t be preposterous,” Hetty scoffs quickly freeing her hands from your hold.  

“You do not need to be cruel Hetty,” You say blinking away tears. Hetty does not get to make you cry let alone see it. Not tonight. 

“There is nothing cruel when I speak the truth. What future do we have together? The answer to that question is that we do not have one. What we had was a momentary lapse in judgement and sanity. I wager  a kiss from a boy would be feel better than what I feel for you” Hetty fights back the bile that threatens to rise to the back of her throat.

 She hates fighting with you, but she knows that you are not one to back down easy. The only way to truly break things off is to make the conditions of the “relationship” so unfavorable that you would leave. Even if that was the last thing Hetty wanted you to do. 

“You could kiss hundreds of boys Hetty, and nothing would change and you know that. You like girls and only girls or atleast that is what you told me. So please enlighten me to joy you will feel being under Elias as he ruts on you like some animal,” You say.

The thought of your words alone threaten to make Hetty sick, and she cannot believe agreed to make it your words her future. Still Hetty doesn’t say anything. She knows that you are right but she would never admit it. At least not yet.

You do not wait for an answer before continuing, “Actually this is not your fault. It is my fault for believing anything you had to say, as I have come to realize that you did not mean it. You are selfish and opportunistic. I should have known that you would jump for marriage if money was involved. Elias is not the only one who comes from a wealthy family Hetty.”

“No, you do not get to be a helpless victim. I did not have a choice in this matter. Either I say yes or my family faces financial ruin,” Hetty says. 

The fire inside you is raging. Burning anything that it is its path. “You have a sister. An older sister who is unmarried. She should be the one marrying Elias, not you. That is the rules and you know it, or is that you could not bear to see your sister have a life that you want. You can flaunt that you have do not have choices all you want, but we both know the truth. As a matter of fact, that is what you have been doing. You chose to enter this relationship with me. You chose to lay in bed and spread your legs, and you did not dawdle your time spreading mine. You chose to break my heart now when we could have ended this six months ago. You chose to string me along like toy for six months.”

The fire has engulfed every part of you with no signs of stopping. Your words continue to flow from your mouth with ease, “I should have known this would end badly. but Hetty please know that one day you are going to wake up and realize that you are nothing more than his wife. No longer the boisterous Hetty who charms the room, or the Hetty who is fun. You’ll just be Hetty, Elias the robber barons wife. The conniving, womanizers wife. And when that empty feeling eats at you, just know that I told you so. When you think about where it all went wrong I want you to think back on this moment. You chose this.”

You laugh bitterly to yourself, “I guess it beats being Hetty the lover or Hetty the friend or better yet Hetty the sappho,” You say angrily. 

A crack sounds through the air, and you feel a sting cross your cheek. You place your hand where it stings, and tears well up in your eyes. Hetty’s heart hammers in her chest. She did not mean for it to go this far, she would have never thought to lay a hand on you. Hetty began to feel cornered by your words. Your very truthful words. Hetty looks just as shocked as you are before she tries reaching out for you. She feels her chest crack open as you step back. 

Before you can get too far from Hetty, you see Elias coming down the stairs with a group of people behind him. 

“This cannot be happening right now,” You say under your breath. Your head dips low before coming back up with a mask of indifference. 

“Hetty, I have been looking all over for you,” Elias says once he reaches her. He looks over to you and nods in acknowledgement, and you do the same. You feel your heart begin to pound wildly in your chest as you watch Elias take Hetty’s hand and kneel to the ground. You watch Hetty glance at you and she notices your eyes are trained to her hand. 

“Hetty will you do me the honour of being my wife?” Elias asks with no hesitation. Hetty knows that this sweet act Elias is putting on is only for show for those who are watching. You feel as if all the air has been knocked from your chest. You already know the answer that Hetty will give, and you feel as if you are dying inside. The only thing keeping you from going cold is the raging fire within. Hetty does not delay in answering, and is surprised when Elias kisses her. You hear the cheers of everyone that came to watch the proposal, and you quickly fix your face to match their excitement. You try to leave to go back inside, but Hetty’s hand stops you. You look up to her, and you see a pleading look in her eyes. 

“Elias would you mind if I talked with my friend for a moment? I promise I’ll send your fiance your way when we are finished,” You say trying to disguise my loathing under a tone of sweetness.

“Of course,” Elias says adjusting his suit jacket. He turns on his heel and follows everyone else inside. Once they are inside, you turn to Hetty.

“What is it Hetty? Do you want to me see your ring sparkle in the moonlight? Do you want to giggle like schoolgirls over your upcoming nuptials?” Your tone quickly change from sweet to biting. 

“Please, I do not want to argue anymore,” Hetty pleads tries to interlock your fingers but you pull your hand away. 

“Hetty you do not know what you want, and I am not going to wait around for you to figure it out. Maybe you are right to end things between us, but I also should have had a say. Good night Hetty. Go find your fiance,” You say turning on your heel and entering the party. 

“Y/n…” Hetty says but she is so overwhelmed she does not know what else to say. 

“Good luck, Baroness,” You say walking away for good.

1893

You sit in your office at your desk looking at your blank stationary paper. As an author you rarely found yourself at a loss for words, at least not until now. You had received Hetty’s letter a week ago, and you had told yourself you were not going to read it. After reading it, you told yourself you were not going to respond. Now as you sit in your office chair pen in hand to write a response, you wonder why you are giving yourself such grief over a woman who broke your heart almost twenty years ago.

Caving in you finally push away from your desk, and walk towards the telephone. You take a deep breath as you pick up the receiver and dial the number Hetty had left in her letter. 

Once the call is connected you hear a now mature familiar voice say “Woodstone residence, Henrietta speaking.”

“I told you so,” You say releasing the breath you had been holding.

Hetty knew your voice instantly, and felt years of emotions bubble to the surface. Hetty could barely rejoice that you had telephoned before the line went dead leaving Hetty speechless and alone.

-END-

A/N: It took all of me to not give this a happy ending. Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Ciao