#vintage dance halls

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Lee Moates and Tonita Malau show their winning dance style during a Lindy contest on the block-long floor of Harlem's Savoy Ballroom on April 24, 1953.

Photo: Hans Von Nolde for the Associated Press via the Deseret News

[atomic-chronoscaph]

The Rockettes - Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (1966)

[mudwerks]

Shenandoah, Pennsylvania. Maher's dance hall, showing a great number of dancers (LOC)

photo - Sheldon Dick

[the-golden-purple-box]

1975

[setdeco]

VARUN KATARIA, Xanadu Roller Arts Skating & Event Space, Brooklyn, NY, USA, 2024

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Dennis Bardens - Ghosts and Hauntings - Ace - 1965

[oldshowbiz]

[neolorenah]

i am facing a SERIOUS lack of inspiration rn. i cant think of any fun photo concepts and im not feeling the mood to create new outfits. idk whats wrong maybe the novelty of the game has worn off which is a shame cus ive only had it for about 3 weeks now i really thought this would happen at the 2 month mark.

i wanted to make a singer outfit. something vaguely retro and vaguely cabaret-like (at least in the mind of someone who has never been to a cabaret bar or a dance hall or any similar establishment). i used the hair from the new funfair event cus i thought it looked fancy in some angles. if youve watched the first episode of that anime "metallic rouge" then youve seen that singer and you can see the energy i was trying to match.

something ive realised is that when i made lorenah's face the first time, i made her look way too friendly. her eyes are a nice brown and she looks like such a nice and sweet person WHICH IS A MAJOR PAIN when trying to make looks like this. ive gone to reshape to try and move her face a bit but nothing i do works and i end up sticking with her original look. using lighter contacts makes her look less doe-eyed so i guess that will be my solution for now until i figure out how to use reshape look and advanced reshape.

[postcard-from-the-past]

Dance hall in the Moulin de la Galette venue, Montmartre neighbourhood of Paris

French vintage postcard

[infoggydreams]

[motorsportbarbie13]

Get Unready With Me - Drunk Edition

In which Lando takes care of you after a night out.

Pairing: Lando Norris x FeminineGirlfriend!Reader Warnings: Drunk reader. Tooth achingly sweet fluff tho. Word Count: 1.8k words

Master List

“Lando! I’ve lost my keys!” You cry, opening the flap on your vintage Chanel bag in an attempt to dump the contents out on the floor of your flat’s empty hallway. 

“No you haven’t, you muppet.” He scolds, tugging the purse out of your hands before anything beyond your Charlotte Tilbury lipstick can clatter to the floor. “You gave me your keys after your fifth vodka cran. ‘Lan baby, be my hero and hold my keys so I don’t lose them!’” He mocks, pulling out your keyring from his pocket. 

Your eyes light up, a drunken giggle slipping off your lips as you lean your whole weight onto your boyfriend as he attempts to open the apartment door for you. “My hero!” 

“Besides,” He tuts, slipping the key into the keyhole. “We live together, my keys are your keys.” 

Lando swings the door open, ushering you inside before closing the door behind him with a soft snick of the lock. You look back at him, a bit more unsteady on your feet than you’d like. The pair of you are just getting back from dinner and dancing with a few of the other drivers and their significant others to celebrate the end of the season and you may have gone a bit overboard with the drinks portion of the night.

Flinging your stilettos off your feet, you groan at the relief of feeling the cool tile on your toes, only stumbling a bit when you try to stand up straight. It’s quite the miracle you made it up from the garage to your tenth floor apartment in those heels under your own power really. “I think my feet might just fall off.” 

Lando follows behind you as you stumble towards the couch. “Baby, shouldn’t we just go to bed? It’s late.” 

“My feet don’t work anymore. Carry me?” You pout, reaching for him with grabby hands. You are quite needy when you get this drunk but honestly, Lando doesn’t mind one bit. You’re quite independent, refusing to allow him to pay for much despite his multi-million dollar contract and endorsement deals. In fact, for the first year of your relationship you had refused to move in with him because there had been no way you could afford to split the rent in his posh apartment in Monaco. So when you get needy like this, which isn’t as often as he’d like, Lando likes to take full advantage of it. He likes to feel needed, especially by the woman he is absolutely smitten with. 

“I think your feet work just fine, but I will carry you to bed anyway, pretty girl.” He coos, scooping you up in his arms. 

You wiggle a little against him, nestling your head in the crook of his neck before breathing in his scent deeply. “You smell so good.” 

“I smell like sweat.” He laughs, walking down the hall towards your shared bedroom. 

“It must be the pheromones then. You’re so sexy when you’re sweaty.” You giggle. 

Lando chuckles, knocking the light switch with his elbow as he enters your room. The yellow glow from the lights overhead illuminate your face as you look up at him. In the alcohol induced haze, the thought of how lucky you are to have him flickers through your mind. You two had met a few years ago when you had been attended the British Grand Prix with your uncle Jenson Button. He had literally swept you off your feet when Fernando Alonso had nearly taken you out in the paddock with his scooter. You liked to joke that Lando had literally been your knight in shining armor that day, so of course you fell for him quick and hard. 

“Here you go, love.” Lando gently sets you down on the bed, your eyes already droopy with exhaustion from the day. “Lets get you out of that dress and into something comfy.” 

“Are you trying to seduce me, Lando Norris?” You slur. 

“No, I’m trying to get you into bed because you’re about five seconds away from falling asleep and I don’t want to cuddle you all night with that scratchy dress on.” Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He helps you shimmy out of the tight dress, pulling it over your head so you were left in only the skimpy McLaren papaya colored lingerie set. 

“This is new.” He says, slipping a finger under the strap of the lacy bralette that has him biting his bottom lip. You looked so cute sitting there on the bed, dressed only in his team colors. 

“I wore it to surprise you but now I’m too drunk to fuck you.” 

Lando can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of him. Despite you being 3 sheets to the wind, you know his rules: No sex while one of you is drunk and the other is sober.  And Lando is very sober right now, wanting to maintain some control over you as you tend to get a little wild and adventurous (read: you like to wander off) when you’re partying. “We can have a rot in bed day tomorrow and you can wear it then, okay love?” 

Your bottom lip sticks out in a pout, “Fine.” 

“Now, lay down. I’ll go get you a t-shirt and we can go to sleep.” 

You follow his instructions and watch as Lando bustles around the room, first getting changed himself and then pulling a t-shirt out of his closet for you. 

A few moments later, Lando pulls his t-shirt onto your body and tucks you back into bed before going to get some aspirin and a glass of water for you, knowing you’re going to have a wicked hangover tomorrow. He hates to see you in pain, but a part of him is pleased that you’ll be unable to do much tomorrow so he’ll be able to wait on you hand and foot. Being needed is absolutely one of Lando’s love languages. 

As he goes to switch off the lights, finally ready to get into bed beside you, suddenly you sit up. “Lando!” You gasp, smacking him on the shoulder as he sits down on his side of the bed. 

“What is it, pretty girl?” 

“My makeup! If I don’t take it off and wash my face, I’m going to break out and I will not be your pretty girl anymore.” 

Lando rolls his eyes, “Seriously? Can’t you just skip it this one time? You will always be my pretty girl, breakout or not.” 

In addition to being extra needy when you’re drunk, you are also extra stubborn. “I need to do my skincare, Lando.” You whine. 

“Fine.” Lando is quite certain there is no way you’d be able to do it by yourself, judging by the state you’re in though. “Let’s go, I’ll help you.” 

You blink up at him as he rounds the bed to stand before you, offering you his hand. “Really?” 

He looks down at those big eyes and pouty lips of yours and really wants to break the whole ’no sex while only one of us is drunk’ rule. “Yes, really you muppet. Come on.” 

Despite the fact that just a few minutes before you had been insisting your feet were about to fall off, you suddenly find the ability to walk and pad behind him into the large en suite bathroom. It’s a luxurious place, with a large jetted tub and huge shower with two shower heads. You find yourself sharing a shower with Lando more often than not. On the other side of the white and black tiled bathroom are his and hers sinks, yours more cluttered than his with various skin and hair products. You may be independent when it comes to asking for help, but you are certainly not low maintenance when it comes to your hair or skin.  

Lando stands in front of your sink, eyeing the various jars and tubes with a bit of skepticism. “I hope you’re sober enough to tell me what goes first because there is no way I can do this on my own.” He mumbles.

“You watch me do this all the time, baby.” 

“Doesn’t mean I know what any of this is. Now, hop up on the counter and let me take care of you.” He says, kissing the tip of your nose. 

A fire burns in your belly at his order. Secretly, you do love when he takes care of you like this. You just hate to admit it. Being raised by a single mom who was never the biggest fan of the male species, you had always been wary of asking for help but being with Lando had healed some of that trauma and mistrust in you and the longer you were with him, the easier you found depending on him. 

“What’s first?” 

“The micellar water.” 

Panic flashes across Lando’s face. “The what?” 

Giggling, you kick your feet like a toddler and point to the large bottle with clear liquid in it. “That. Put some on a cotton ball and…” 

“Wipe off your makeup. I know, I’ve seen you do it, I just don’t know what goes when.”

Lando squirts some out on a cotton ball like he’s seen you do a thousand times and begins to wipe off the makeup in long, slow strokes. The alcohol makes your brain fuzzy but the way his face is so focused on his task, brows knit together in concentration, has you squeezing your legs together. He can’t quite believe how many cotton balls it takes to get everything off, but eventually most of your makeup is gone. 

“Now is when you use the soap, right?” 

He looks so eager to be right your heart squeezes a bit. “Yes, that bottle right there.” 

Lando continues on with your skincare routine, listening to your every step and following it exactly as described. It takes a little longer than usual, but neither of you mind. The way he so gently rinses the soap off your face and then applies your moisturizer is strangely one of the most romantic things you’ve ever done together. 

Finally, everything is done and you’re bare faced and freshly moisturized. Lando hands you your toothbrush, already prepped with your toothpaste, and the pair of you brush your teeth together. He gently helps you down off the counter and you follow him back into the bedroom, hand in hand. 

“Thank you, baby.” You coo as you slip under the covers, watching as Lando switches off the bedroom lights, plunging the bedroom into darkness. 

“I love taking care of you.” He murmurs when he joins you under the heavy duvet, your warmth radiating towards him in waves. 

“I love you, Lando Norris.” 

“I love you too, pretty girl.” 

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

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[newyorkthegoldenage]

A sailor and his girlfriend dance the Jitterbug at the Hurricane Dance Hall, April 1943.

Photo: Gordon Parks, via Granger/Fine Art America

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ In de middle of the night ⭑

Masterlist

A/N: I got a littleeee carried away with this one :)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

Summary: Being married to Aegon brought you no pleasure, especially when it comes to the bedroom and you were still without an heir. However your sweet brother Aemond is willing to help you out.

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, teeny tiny bit angst but really tiny, targcest, aegon being drunk asf, kissing, handjob, oral, facesitting, tongue fucking, finger riding, vaginal sex, breeding kink and squirting.

Word count: 4.7k

You stared up at the canopy above you, deep in thought while your husband Aegon sloppily rutted into you. His thrusts fast and eager, he had trouble keeping his cock actually inside you. It was another one of those nights where he came into your chambers or summoned you to his, stinking of wine, slurring words and ‘demanding an heir’. Everytime he did this, it would start by you taking your clothes off and laying on his bed for him. He would, less gracefully, take his off too and almost trip and fall to the ground trying to get over to you on the bed.

He could barely get his cock hard with a few tugs and would slip it inside, or rather force it, and you wondered, was this how he fucked his whores too? So you laid there waiting for him to slip out and pass out on top of you, before even actually finishing inside you. But of course it was your fault there was no heir after 6 months of marriage. You didn’t even know why your mother, queen Alicent, thought it was a good idea to make your life a living hell by marrying you off to your least favourite brother. Aegon's complaints during the betrothal didn’t go unnoticed by you, what also didn’t go unnoticed was Aemond’s reply to every nasty comment Aegon made about you. 

“She’s boring, always reading and never dancing or drinking like the rest of us.” Aegon would say, already tipsy of his precious vintage wine. “She’s unique and smart, you should appreciate her brother.” Aemond would fire back. They never realised that you would listen in and gods did you love Aemond for his protective nature. He always had your back. When you had nightmares as a child and even sometimes still, you would go to him, because you knew he would never judge you. 

Pulled out of your thoughts, Aegon once again slipped out and stupidly drunk passed out on top of you. “Aegon? Did you- finish already?” You asked hesitantly. No response. So as usual you pushed him off you, left his bed to get your nightgown. Got dressed and left his chambers, disappointed and hurt once more. You walked down the dark and cold halls of the Red Keep, dragging your feet back to your own chambers. When you got back, your handmaiden had already drawn a bath for you, for every time you got summoned to his chambers, she knew you would come back uncomfortable and disappointed. She felt bad and always showed it by trying to get you clean and comfortable again so you could finally go to bed. 

A week later you were taking a stroll through the gardens, looking for your favourite butterflies. The sun beaming down on you as your handmaiden trailed behind you, the tiny rocks crunching under your feet. The gardens were pretty much empty which was rare on beautiful days like this. After a while of observing your favourite butterflies, the eastern tailed butterfly, you decided to take a seat under the canopy at the far left side of the gardens. It was one of your favourite spots, secluded and only the royals were allowed here. 

Your handmaiden handed you your book and summoned some wine and cheese for you to enjoy, when you were comfortable you sent her away. In much need of some alone time. Sitting in the soft breeze of the wind and the cool shadows of the canopy you let out a sigh. “Enjoying the day sister?” Your heart skipped a beat at Aemonds voice, he almost appeared out of nowhere and pulled a chair to join you. “Brother you scared me.” You said with a breathy laugh. “I apologise, I just wanted to spend some time outside after training today.” He smiled slightly as he poured himself some wine. “How did it go? Did you embarrass Cole again?” You smiled at the memory, eyes fixated on your book still. “I always embarrass him, but it never stops amusing me. So...what are you reading today?” Aemond tried to read the title, slightly leaning forward to do so. 

“If I tell you you’ll laugh.” You replied, pressing the back of the book on your lap. “So romance I take it, you know I would never make fun of you for that.” He said, sipping his wine and peering over at you. Your cheeks flushed at his words, conversation was always easy and comforting with him. You wondered why it couldn’t be like that with your own husband. “I...heard you strolling back to your own chambers in the middle of the night again.” He seemed to observe his wine cup while he spoke, too embarrassed to look at you. Because you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Did Aegon finally manage to do it? Is it still uncomfortable and unpleasant?

No one knew you talked to Aemond about this, you would be disgraced if they did. But he was the only one you could trust. If you told your mother she would just insist to keep trying and that all would be well. “Yes. I was.” You replied curtly, you wanted him to do something about it. Maybe he could talk to Aegon? Clearly your dear husband ignored his mother’s pleas to stop drinking so much and to bed you properly, but to no avail. “Is he still not?” He didn’t even dare finish that sentence for he knew when your face tensed up and looked back at your book. “I’m sorry.” That was all he could muster up to say. He didn’t want to insult his brother but he was getting tired of seeing you like this. And of course the blame was always on the woman if she wasn’t soon with child after marriage. 

You almost threw your book on the table and stood up to walk towards the balcony that overlooked the sea. “I love Aegon but why is he like this? Why can’t he do his duty? Why does he have to scorn me like this, again and again.” Your eyes teared up at the thought of never being able to produce an heir for the realm. You heard the sound of a chair scraping against the tiny stones and felt Aemond’s presence suddenly behind you. Feeling his breath against your right ear almost made you shudder. “If you were wed to me, I would’ve performed my duty. You would’ve already been swollen with my child.” His whispers made your heart skip a beat and heat pool in your belly. You closed your eyes when you felt his hands on your hips, slowly moving toward your stomach as if to hold that said swollen belly. 

“Aemond…” It almost came out as a moan, the thought of him bedding you, fucking his seed deep inside you, it made you feel things you never felt with Aegon. You always thought he was brave and handsome, but after that night when Lucerys Velaryon took his eye, he changed. For the better you thought. As you got older he took to wearing an eye patch and why did he have to look so damn good with it. “I have an idea, but you must not tell anyone. It would solve this problem...but we can’t speak about it now and not here. Come to my chambers tonight, if Aegon calls on you, which I doubt since he talked about sneaking off to Flea Bottom, then tell him you’re too tired.” He embraced you from behind and left you with that. 

The rest of the day was spent anxiously in the gardens, even at supper you were too nervous to look at Aemond or even at Aegon who was already drowning in his cups. You were stabbing at your chicken, trying to get a piece of bone out when your mother spoke up. “Aegon, must you drink so much every night?” She looked at him with a piercing gaze. For some reason his eyes landed on you when he spoke. “Yes.” Was all he said. Your mouth almost fell open. Did he mean to suggest that he was only drinking so much because of you? His wife? His perfect and nothing but loyal and dutiful wife? When Aegon looked back at his plate you looked at your mother. She gave you a sympathetic look before leaving the table to check on her own husband, the king, who had been in a bad state the last couple of weeks. You quickly left the table after her, walking back to your own chambers, your handmaiden once again following quickly behind you.

“Dyana, I require a bath right now.” Once you were in your chambers, your handmaiden drew your bath and after a while you were relaxing in the hot water. When you were finished you got dressed and left your beautiful silver locks down for the night. You always had long hair that stopped right above your butt, soft big curls and shiny hair. It was something you were very proud of. And tonight you wanted to show it off for Aemond. You still weren’t entirely sure what he was up to but gods did you hope that it was what you were thinking of. 

You decided on a white, silk nightgown that had long sleeves and a small cute bow in the middle of the quite low neckline. The sleeves were wide and very princess-like, with the skirt of the gown itself long, airy and light. You made sure to smell of vanilla and sugar and when it was completely dark, and everyone must surely be asleep, you sent your handmaiden away to “go to bed” and snuck out not too long after to Aemonds chambers. 

You moved as quiet as a mouse through the dark halls of the Red Keep, nervousness and excitement in your chest. After a while you arrived at the door of Aemond’s chambers, his guards thankfully already sent away by him. You softly knocked on his door and seconds after, he opened it, quickly letting you inside. He was dressed in a soft cotton shirt, pants and his black boots. And he still looked as handsome as ever. “Why don’t we sit down, sweet sister.” He motioned over to the two settees in the middle of his chamber. You both opted to sit next to each other. 

“Now, I want you to listen to me carefully. I have an idea on how we can provide heirs and keep you satisfied as well. But no one must ever find out. Not even mother and especially not Aegon.” He started. “Since I am not married, I could- bed you. And give the realm the heirs it so desperately needs.” He looked at you, he was always calm and collected but now even you could see the gleam of nervousness and excitement in his eye. You could only nod, it was incredibly disgraceful, treacherous even. But it was the perfect solution. “I need you to say it out loud, say that you want me.” He muttered, inching closer to grab your face. “Please Aemond, I want you. I need you.” You whispered already looking at his lips.

That was all he needed to let go of any self restraint he had. He smiled and leaned in to kiss you. His lips felt so soft, which was in contrast to his rough and masculine demeanour. After a second you moved your lips against his. You wanted to hold his face as well but were a bit too nervous to do so. His right hand was still on your cheek and his left arm went around your back, to hold you closer to him. Aegon almost never kissed you, so this new exciting feeling left you heated and wanting for more. Aemond deepened the kiss, he let his tongue slightly swipe over your lower lip, asking for entrance. You eagerly granted this and let his tongue explore your mouth.

You couldn’t help the tiny moan slip past your lips. Aemond groaned, and just the mere sound of this had you clenching your thighs. Your arousal taking over your mind, you grabbed his shirt and let your tongue mingle with his. His hand that was on your back pulled you even closer and the hand that was resting on your face slithered lower to your bottom and he couldn’t help himself, he grabbed it hard making you moan into his mouth. His sanity was slipping at the sounds of your pleasure, he wanted this for so long. He wanted to show Aegon exactly how he should be fucking his wife. 

“Do that- again.” You whimpered against his lips, for some reason, his manhandling turned you on. It was another side of him you had never known, the rougher Aemond, the Aemond that took what he wanted. He did as you commanded, grabbing your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze, which earned him another moan. Fuck- if he knew that this is what you wanted all along he would’ve done this 6 month’s ago. Before the wedding, to make you his, just so he could do this whenever he wanted. The friction of his pants on the tip of his hard cock got him even more riled up. It just felt so fucking good. At this point he’d do anything you commanded. He gave you another smack on your ass and groaned in your mouth. 

“Fuck- you love this don’t you, getting thrown around by me. Tell me it’s me you’ve always wanted, not Aegon.” He almost grunted the words against your lips, still feverishly moving against you. “It’s always been you and only you- If Aegon fucked me better- I could’ve at least imagned it was you bedding me- but even that he won’t grant me.” You spoke breathlessly against his lips. He removed his lips from yours and gave you a look that could make you finish right there and then. “Let me remove your dress and show you what your husband should’ve done all along.” He spoke in such a low and husky tone, you could feel the slick between your legs. 

You once again were at loss for words and simply stood in front of the seated man. He grabbed your skirt and stood up to help you lift off the dress that now felt too heavy on your body. Once the dress was raised above your head he threw it on the other settee behind you. Then you saw the lust in his eyes as he took in your body. “How could my idiot of a brother not absolutely devour you every night. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Let me treat you like the goddess you are.” He didn’t even let you respond before he lurched forward to lick and suck at your breasts leaving them slick with his saliva. “Oh Aemond- please- I need you so so so bad.” You almost sobbed when he let his middle finger glide between your wet folds. He drank in your moans as he let his finger explore your soft cunt. Already imagining how it would feel around his cock. That thought alone alongside the feeling of your wet pussy sent beads of precum dripping out of his aching tip. Leaving a dark sticky patch in his pants. 

When he decided that your nipples were aching and sensitive enough he finally let his mouth off them, a tiny spit trail connecting you. Then he started kissing down your stomach, even further down until he was on his knees. You were in complete awe of the sight before you and gods help you when he finally reached your cunt. Leaving a tiny peck right above your puffy clit he started to absolutely devour you. Licking and sucking at your wet folds, you moaned his name, whimpering and begging for air as he went. Never in your life had you felt this good and you only just started. You had to hold on to something so you grabbed his hair. And right as he sucked on your clit you pulled at his roots earning a moan from Aemond right against your clit. The vibration of it felt like heaven, he then grabbed your right leg and put it over his shoulder so he had better access, holding your ass for support. 

Only mere seconds later the amount of build up of pleasure made you hold your breath, at last with Aemond lapping faster over your clit with the tip of his tongue, you saw stars as you gasped for air, chanting Aemonds name like a prayer, gripping his silver locks holding him in place as he continued licking and sucking your clit through your orgasm. “Fuck- fuck!” You almost screamed, still gasping for air when he finally released his head from between your thighs. “Good girl, if only I could make you cum on my tongue every night.” He spoke when he rose from his knees, after he gently placed your leg back on the floor. His sultry voice made you open your eyes again and the mere sight of him- His lips, nose and chin- covered in your slick. “However, I’m not done with you yet my love.” He smiled and led you over to his bed to this time remove his own shirt and boots. 

As you laid back on the pillows, mind still woolly from your orgasm, you watched as he raised his shirt over his head. He was more slender than Aegon but more defined. He had toned abs and a strong but soft chest. Almost angelic. He didn’t have any hair, unlike Aegon, but you actually loved that. His arms were long and veiny just like his hands. His v-line was defined and let your eyes wander to the hard bulge in his pants. Yet he removed his boots instead and joined you on the bed. He laid next to you and traced your legs. Then he patted his thighs, silently asking you to sit on them. 

You did as he asked and moved over to sit on him, his thighs weren’t too thick but muscular and strong. Probably from all the training he did. His hands grabbed at your breasts again and he couldn’t help but mutter, “Fucking beautiful.” His hands then moved down your stomach right back to where you wanted him most. Letting his thumb move in circles over your clit again, you moaned at his touch. “I want you to do something for me.” He spoke. “Anything- anything for you.” You replied, breathlessly as he still let his thumb rub over your sensitive slick clit. “I want you to ride my fingers. And when I make you come with that, you’ll ride my face. Good and hard, understood?” You almost moaned again at his words. How did you get so lucky? Were the gods finally rewarding you for these horrible past few months? “Fuck- yes. I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” You panted. 

He didn’t remove his thumb but let his middle finger once again glide between your folds to find your tight hole. This proved to be an easy task, you were still so wet from your previous orgasm that he easily slipped inside. Once he had his finger inside he added a second. He waited a bit for you to get used to the stretch before he gave you a smack on the ass again with his other hand. “Move darling, ride my fingers like you would my cock.” You gasped and almost immediately started moving against his hand, he made sure to curl his fingers in a way that they would hit exactly the right spot inside you every time you moved. The sensation of his fingers inside you while you grinded on his hand already felt amazing but of course he had to add his thumb again, wanting to make sure your clit wasn’t deprived of pleasure. 

This made you clench around his fingers, earning a groan from him. As you rode his fingers faster, chasing your high, his other hand moved from your ass to your face, grabbing your chin and sticking his thumb inside your mouth, you sucked on it instinctively. Moving the flat of your tongue against it. “That’s a good fucking girl, already knowing exactly what I want don’t you? Riding my fingers like you need them to survive. Fuck I can’t wait to fill you with my seed. See your swollen belly and know that I did that. Shit you don’t even know what you’re doing to me hāedar*.” His filthy words alongside his thumb rubbing over your clit made you once again see heaven itself but this time the feeling of your orgasm approaching felt different like something was about to burst. You wanted to tell him but with his thumb still in your mouth this proved difficult. Before you could stop it you grabbed his arm for support as you squirted all over his fingers and chest. “Gods- yes. Fucking cum for me. Cum all over my fucking fingers.” Aemond groaned out, he never thought he would see such a heavenly sight. This certainly did not help his own condition. But he did discover a new kink.

You rode out the last bit of your orgasm, finally allowed more air when Aemond removed his thumb from your mouth, rubbing his hand soothingly on your leg instead. When you had caught your breath you looked at the mess you made underneath him. “I- I tried to warn you- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” Before you could mutter out any more apologies Aemond cut you off. “Don’t ever apologise, that was fucking amazing. Making you feel such pleasure is all I ever wanted in life. So next you’ll do it on my tongue.” He wasted no time in grabbing your hips and moving you over his face, pressing you down on his mouth and his nose. You sighed and hoped you could handle another orgasm. Because he was clearly not finished with you yet. 

He stuck his tongue inside you and grabbed your hips once again to hold you down. Your body almost moved automatically, as if you no longer had control. You knew you weren’t going to last long this time, the sensitivity making sure of that. But what you didn’t expect was his beautiful nose hitting your clit just right as he tongue fucked you. He grunted and groaned at the taste, holding your hips to grind you on his face. “Aemond- Aemond please I need you- please fuck me- please!” You sobbed, it felt so fucking good, never in your life had you dreamed of such pleasure. Grinding and moving harder and faster on his face, your orgasm was approaching once again. 

And this time you hoped you would release all over him again as he so desperately wanted. Luckily your wish was granted. You felt the same full bladder like build up once again and leaned back to hold on to his torso for support. His nose hitting your sensitive puffy clit, his tongue fucking you deep inside and his own sounds of pleasure sent you over the edge. Warm liquid gushing over his face, the vibrations of his own moans and bucking of his hips in desperation, if you were to die now you wouldn’t care for it, you would die a happy woman. After making sure you were fully fucked out he released his grip and let you catch your breath. 

Your knees buckled from underneath you and your body fell limp on the bed next to him. And he had yet to fuck you with his cock. “Please Aemond I need your cock, I need your seed inside me, please, it’s all I ever wanted.” You pleaded, eyes still watery from overstimulation. “Don’t worry my love I plan on doing so, let me breed you good and proper, like you deserve.” He whispered against your neck. You hadn’t even noticed him moving on top of you. You heard rustling and opened your eyes to see Aemond at last removing his pants, releasing his hard cock. He was big and long, veins all over his shaft, his tip red and angry leaking with pre cum. When he threw his pants to the side he moved back to you, making sure you were okay he kissed you, soft and tender. You smiled against his lips as a confirmation. 

He kissed you once more on your forehead before grabbing his cock by the base, letting his tip move through your slick folds. Smearing his pre cum and your own spend around. He moaned at the warm and soft feeling. Aemond really had to remind himself not to immediately ram inside you and fuck you senseless, as much as he really wanted you. The last thing in the world he wanted was to hurt you. “Ready my love?” He asked. “Yes please, I want you to fuck me dumb...until I can’t even speak anymore.” You whispered, a smile on your face at the thought of finally having his cock buried inside you. “Trust me, I will.” He said before sliding in, letting out a loud moan as he did, slowly burying his cock inside, all the way until he could feel your cervix with his tip. 

After a couple of seconds he made sure he could move. He couldn’t hold back any longer and started rutting inside you like a dog in heat, panting and moaning as he did. This time moaning your name over and over again. You gripped his shoulders and back for support as the entire bed shook and banged against the wall. You both couldn’t give less of a fuck if someone heard. A tiny part inside you wanted to be caught, maybe you could finally be his. He leaned down and captured your own moans in his mouth, licking a stripe up your lips, catching your upper lip with it for a moment. You whimpered in response. The things you would do for this man. The sounds of your unholy moans and groans, your skin hitting his, the sound of his balls filled with seed slamming against you filled the room and probably the hall. “So fucking good- so fucking tight for me.” He moaned. 

“Please Aemond- I’m going to come- please fuck me harder!” You begged against his neck holding on to him tight before your pussy clenched around him, your fourth orgasm making you shake and curl your toes. Accidently scratching up his back in response. “You want my fucking seed princess? Want it inside you hm? I’m going to fill you to the fucking brim.” His own words and the feeling of your nails scratching his back sent him over the edge himself, burying his face in your neck, biting down on you as he delivered a final pump before indeed filling you to the brim with his seed. With a final couple of slow trusts to pump his seed good and deep inside you he released his grip on you. After having caught his breath he kissed you, and removed his softening cock so he could lay by your side. The sheets were covered in sweat and both of your cum as you could feel some of his seed dripping out of you. Aemond noticed and used his finger to push it back inside. “There, however, most of the time women don’t get pregnant after only one bedding. We should do it more often to ensure you become with child.” He whispered near your ear. You smiled, pulled his head back and kissed him.  

“We should, and when I do become with child, I can rest easy knowing they’ll be yours. Just as handsome and devoted as you.” You mumbled against his lips. He smiled at that, moved you on your side so he could have your back snug against him. You cuddled for as long as was possible, before you sadly had to retreat to your own chambers. Only a month later it was announced you were with child.

*hāedar = sister

[elephantlovemedleys]

After the initial hugs and greetings from the lathered-up welcoming committee, including yours truly, putting on my most convincing friendly face, the hunky actor asked if he and I could step outside so he could have a moment alone with me. He [Patrick] took my hand and led me down the hall a little ways. Once out of earshot, we turned to face each other, Patrick scanned me in my cut-off black tights, dance briefs rolled down, a sports bra and vintage blue satin high heels, and said, “Whoa. You clean up good, girl.” ���This is a great part for you. Congratulations.” “I know, right? It’s crazy.” This was softening me up. It felt good to be able to share my news with someone I knew. “I know, you’re probably thinkin’, ‘Aw, no, not this idiot again.’ ” Then his eyes started to well up. Real tears. And with the most earnest delivery imaginable, said, “You know I’ve always loved you.” He stared into my eyes. “And I’ve been really workin’ on gettin’ my shit together. So, if I get the chance, I swear I’m gonna make it up to you. You will not be sorry.” I said, “Uh-huh.” He smiled and was working hard on getting me to smile back. “C’mon, you know if we did this together, we’d kill it.” There was no question that our bodies liked each other, in spite of what my head was saying. There has never been anyone with Patrick’s combination of grace, brawn, sensitivity, and fearless, reckless gusto. - From Out of the Corner: A Memoir by Jennifer Grey (2022) PATRICK SWAYZE and JENNIFER GREY in DIRTY DANCING (1987) dir. EMILE ARDOLINO

[hy6erion]

Thank youuu! Ok so the song is diner and diatribes, and basically the song is about wanting to leave the function (a dinner, a party whatever) with your partner as soon as possible because everyone is just talking so much and being annoying and whatnot. But you can't leave just yet as that would be quite rude so you settle for the second best, mentally planning what your are going to do as soon as you leave (/I'd suffer hell if you'd tell me/ /What you'd do to me tonight/). And I'm just imagining reader and viktor being sassy and teasing eachother the whole night waiting to see who breaks first (/Let there be hotel complaints.../), and from there you can do literally any (leave it there or develop it further, whatever you feel like writing)

I just thought I'd give you some of my interpretation and thought on it but feel free to listen to it and/or read the lyrics and interpret it however you'd like❤️

~🍒

𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭.

⇢ 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐧 (𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤), 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝!! 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 (≧◡≦)

The dining hall of Piltover’s Grand Atrium was nothing short of extravagant. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, polished silverware reflected the light like tiny stars, and the hum of conversations swelled into an insufferable, droning symphony. Every attendee was dressed to impress, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and finely aged wine.

It should have been a lovely evening.

It wasn’t.

You shifted in your seat, resting your chin on your hand as yet another Zaunite-Piltovian relations speech droned on. Across the table, a council member was detailing their plans for a “more efficient trade system,” which was just a polished way of saying they wanted to make even more money off Zaun’s labor.

Viktor, seated beside you, was the picture of polite disinterest, his fingers drumming lazily against the tablecloth, his cane resting against his knee. He looked devastatingly handsome in his finely tailored suit, his cravat slightly loosened as if even his clothing couldn’t tolerate the dull atmosphere.

You leaned in, voice low enough for only him to hear.

“If I have to listen to another self-important noble prattle on about ‘mutual prosperity,’ I might start throwing butter knives.”

Viktor let out a quiet chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk. “That would be quite the scandal. Though, given the state of these conversations, it might be considered an act of public service.”

You sighed dramatically. “Can we leave?”

“Not yet, dear. That would be rude.” He was teasing, his voice laced with amusement. “But don’t worry, I’m sure the next speech will be even more riveting.”

You gave him a slow, deliberate look. “I’d rather suffer hell.”

His amber eyes flickered with interest, a glint of mischief dancing behind them. “Would you now?”

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could answer, a server passed by, refilling your glasses with an absurdly expensive vintage. You turned your attention back to your untouched plate, twirling your fork between your fingers.

Viktor, however, leaned closer, his breath just barely grazing your ear.

“Tell me, what would you rather be doing instead?” His voice was low, smooth, carrying an unmistakable challenge.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and the air between you tightened. You tapped a finger against your lips, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm. Let’s see. Anything, really. But if I had to pick…” You tilted your head, letting your lips ghost just shy of his jaw. “I’d say something much more… hands-on.”

Viktor’s fingers stilled against the tablecloth, his smirk growing just a fraction sharper. “How bold of you.” His eyes flicked down briefly, then back up, filled with knowing amusement. “Though I do wonder… how long can you keep up this little game?”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I can last all night.”

His smirk deepened. “That, my dear, is a lie.”

You scoffed, taking a slow sip of your wine, letting the glass linger against your lips. “You underestimate me, Viktor.”

“Do I?” He raised an eyebrow, voice as smooth as silk. “Because you seem quite eager to leave.”

You exhaled through your nose, barely holding back a laugh. “And you don’t?”

He shrugged, leaning back slightly. “I’m patient.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re just as bored as I am. Maybe even more.”

Viktor hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. But I am also enjoying this.”

“This?”

He turned his head slightly, his voice a quiet murmur. “Watching you squirm.”

Your breath hitched, but you recovered quickly, tilting your head with faux innocence. “Oh, I’m not squirming, dear.” You dragged the endearment out just enough to make his eyes darken. “If anything, I think you’re the one losing focus.”

Viktor let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Such a dangerous individual.”

“Only for you.”

The weight of the words settled between you, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you faded into insignificance—the dull speeches, the clinking glasses, the insufferable crowd.

But then, of course, the universe decided to punish you both.

“Ah, Viktor!” A new voice broke through your bubble, and you internally groaned. A particularly talkative professor from the Academy took the empty seat beside Viktor, immediately launching into a discussion about hextech regulations.

Viktor, ever the polite conversationalist, turned to respond, though you caught the brief flicker of irritation in his eyes.

Your fingers, hidden beneath the table, brushed against his knee. He stiffened almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t look at you.

You smirked. Slowly—deliberately—you let your fingers trail a little higher, barely grazing along the inside of his thigh.

Viktor’s posture remained composed, but you felt the tension in his leg. His fingers curled around the stem of his glass, tightening just slightly.

“—but of course, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the latest developments,” the professor was saying.

Viktor exhaled through his nose. “Ah, yes, of course. The, ah, latest—” He cut himself off as your fingers danced higher. His jaw tightened. “Developments.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

Leaning in, you whispered, “Something wrong, Viktor?”

His eyes flicked toward you, sharp and knowing. “Oh, not at all.” He shifted slightly, placing his cane against the floor with a firm click. His free hand—warm and steady—found your knee beneath the table. “Though I do believe two can play this game.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers slowly traced along the inside of your thigh, mirroring your earlier actions with devastating precision.

You swallowed. Hard.

His smirk was maddening. “What was that you said earlier?” He tilted his head, mockingly thoughtful. “Oh yes. ‘I can last all night.’”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him. “You’re evil.”

“Mm, only for you.”

Damn him.

The rest of the evening was spent in a silent war of nerves, subtle touches, teasing words, and heated glances that promised retribution the moment you were alone.

When the dinner finally—finally—ended, and you were able to slip away unnoticed, Viktor was barely a step behind you.

And by the time the hotel doors shut behind you both, all pretense was gone.

Let there be hotel complaints.

—

The door clicked shut behind you, the dim golden light of the hotel room casting a warm glow over the space. The luxurious suite was elegant—ornate crown moldings, plush velvet drapes, and a grand four-poster bed that practically demanded to be ruined.

But you barely spared it a glance.

Your breath was still uneven from the last few hours—the dinner, the teasing, the war of patience that had nearly shattered your composure. Viktor stood just a few steps away, his posture deceptively relaxed, his cane still in hand, but his amber eyes were dark with something heady and victorious.

You swallowed.

“You walked fast,” you murmured, your voice hushed, thick with anticipation.

He tilted his head, his smirk creeping in. “And you nearly tripped twice trying to keep up.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re one to talk, bolting out of that dining hall like a man possessed.”

He took a slow step forward. “I simply have a… strong sense of direction.”

Your pulse quickened. He was toying with you, dragging it out just to see how much further he could push before you snapped. The problem was—you wanted to snap.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, tilting your chin up.

His smirk deepened. “And yet you are the one who started this.”

Your mouth opened to argue, but then—suddenly—he was in front of you, close enough that the scent of ink, iron, and something distinctly Viktor filled your lungs. His hand reached up, fingers ghosting along your jaw, tracing the edge of your throat with maddening gentleness.

You shivered.

“You spent the entire evening provoking me,” he murmured, his voice a quiet accusation. “Running your fingers up my leg beneath the table… whispering in my ear… acting as if you could handle the consequences.”

Your breath caught, fingers curling at your sides. “I can handle them.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “Is that so?” His fingertips brushed down your throat, just barely grazing your collarbone, teasing, testing.

Your skin burned under his touch. The tension coiled tight, every nerve electrified with anticipation, but you refused to be the first to break.

Two could play this game.

You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You’re talking an awful lot for someone who’s just as desperate as I am.”

Viktor exhaled through his nose—a sharp, amused sound—before his hand suddenly slid around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. The shift in control was immediate, his grip firm yet deliberate, tilting your head just enough to expose the delicate line of your throat.

“Desperate?” His voice was a low murmur, warm against your skin. “No, you are desperate.”

Your stomach clenched.

His thumb traced along the pulse at your throat, lingering just to feel it quicken under his touch. He was enjoying this, savoring every second, watching you unravel piece by piece.

And you hated—loved—that he was right.

Your patience was fraying. Your resolve was slipping.

And Viktor knew it.

So, you did the only thing you could.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was a collision—fierce, urgent, reckless—months of restrained tension breaking all at once. Viktor responded immediately, a sharp inhale through his nose before his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You barely had time to gasp before he pressed you back against the nearest surface—the wall—his cane clattering to the floor as his hands found your hips, fingers gripping just enough to make you dizzy.

Heat flooded through you. Every point of contact burned.

“I knew it,” Viktor breathed against your lips, triumphant. “I knew you would break first.”

You barely had the sense to glare at him. “Shut up.”

He grinned, teeth grazing your bottom lip. “Make me.”

You did.

Sometime later—long after the teasing had given way to something far less restrained—you found yourself tangled in the mess of sheets, your body still humming from the aftermath. Viktor lay beside you, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin.

You exhaled, content but exhausted, turning to meet his gaze. His hair was tousled, his lips still slightly swollen, his golden eyes heavy-lidded but sharp with amusement.

The bastard knew he’d won.

You huffed. “You’re impossible.”

His smirk was lazy, satisfied. “And yet, here you are.”

You narrowed your eyes, rolling onto your side to face him fully. “I demand a rematch.”

His fingers trailed up your spine, featherlight. “Oh?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “Next time, I will win.”

Viktor let out a quiet chuckle, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Mm. I look forward to it.”

And judging by the smirk he gave you right before flipping onto his back—so that you could hear the distinct, irritated thump from the neighboring room’s wall—you knew that rematch would be happening very, very soon.

Let there be many hotel complaints.

[reveryfics]

Slow Dancing

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x male reader

Summary: it's nearly three in the morning, you and Bucky dance across the living room under the candle light as soft tunes play.

A/n: Something short and sweet. Requests open.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The antique grandfather clock in the hall chimed three times, its deep tones echoing through the quiet house. Moonlight, pale and ethereal, streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the single shaft of light. The cozy living room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of a few strategically placed candles, casting long, dancing shadows across the worn wooden floor.

A melancholic melody, a timeless jazz tune, drifted from the old, well-worn record player perched on a vintage side table. The needle occasionally skipped, a momentary stutter in the smooth flow of the music, but the rhythm continued, a comforting heartbeat in the stillness of the night.

Bucky, his face etched with a lifetime of stories, held his husband close. Their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity, a practiced dance born from countless evenings like this. His husband, a picture of contentment, rested his head against Bucky's chest, a soft sigh escaping his lips. The steady thump of Bucky's heart, a comforting rhythm against his ear, mingled with the music, creating a lullaby of love and peace.

Bucky, his gaze fixed on the shadows playing on the walls, whispered, "Remember the day I married you? As handsome as ever."

His husband chuckled, his head still nestled against Bucky's chest. "Could say the same for you, James. Just a little less rugged." He teased, his voice a low rumble.

He loved everything about Bucky, the gruff exterior that masked a heart of gold, the way he always insisted on certain traditions, a holdover from a bygone era, a time before the war, a time before... everything. It was how Bucky showed his love, a stubborn insistence on the past, a way to cling to a semblance of normalcy in a world that had tried to shatter him.

The record skipped again, the music faltering, but they continued to dance, their movements fluid and effortless. Bucky gently dipped his husband, a slow, graceful motion, before pulling him back close. It was a ritual, this nightly dance, a cherished tradition born from the joy of their wedding day. Every weekend, without fail, they would pull out the old record, the one that had played during their first dance, and dance beneath the soft glow of candlelight, lost in the magic of the moment.

Alpine, their snow-white cat, a majestic creature, observed them from his perch atop the velvet armchair. He occasionally rubbed against their legs, a soft, furry purr rumbling in his chest.

It was a simple moment, a quiet dance under the watchful gaze of the moon, yet it held a profound beauty. A testament to their love, a reminder of the joy they had found in each other, a promise of countless more evenings like this, filled with the music of their love and the warmth of their shared memories.