#back on my oh i’m a ballerina shit

[lost-in-sokovia]

It's yellomello bitch

I love that! Your whole thought process was so funny to see

-💛

yellomello i have a question, what do you like to do for hobbies?

like i’m a dancer and when i’m not dancing i write!

[cupid-styles]

the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).

I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.

What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”

So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.

She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”

Easy enough, right?

But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 

But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 

She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.

“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”

She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.

Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”

Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.

With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.

. . .

“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”

She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 

“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”

She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 

She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 

Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”

Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”

“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”

He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”

She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 

“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”

“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”

“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 

It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 

“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Can you shut the door?” 

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”

“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”

“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”

Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.

“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 

“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”

“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”

Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.

“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”

“That’s awful for you, Harry.”

He shoots her an angry look. 

“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”

“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”

Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.

“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”

She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”

He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”

She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 

“What?” 

“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 

“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 

“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 

She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 

“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”

Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”

He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 

[eatingaburrito]

SNOOZE — oscar piastri

summary. in which, everyone finally meets oscar’s new girlfriend—who happens to be a ballerina. (part three)

genre. smau

previous ↺ next

you — 2min ago

the queen has arriveeeeeed

come get your queen pls

oscar baby — 1min ago

😂😂

Finally you’re here

Your plane took his sweet time

I was ready to join you in the sky bro

you — 0.59s ago

LMAOO WHAT

stop being obsessed with me 🙄

im collecting the luggage !!!!!!!!!

oscar baby — 0.53s ago

Be careful pls

I hate the fact that I couldn’t come pick you up at airport

Lando and I tried to convince them but we kind of failed

you — 0.45s ago

dw the other man of my life is coming to pick me up

oscar baby — 0.36s ago

I’m the only man of your life

Stop tripping

you — 0.32s ago

you’re spending too much time w lando

you start speaking like him

give me my sweet oscar back ☹️☹️☹️☹️

oscar baby — 0.28s ago

I’m still sweet my love

I got you a surprise

you — 0.25s ago

REALLY ????????????????

i think i’m in love w you

oscar baby — 0.21s ago

I think too

You’re good ?

you — 0.19s ago

uuuuh ill be good if random people weren’t trying to get pictures of me

like

for what ????

WAIT BRUH

SOME RANDOM GIRL IS NOT EVEN HIDING HERSELF SHES LITERALLY TAKING PICTURES OF MY BIG ASS FACE ????????????

ok i literally ran away

oscar baby — 0.15s ago

Wtf ? What are they doing ?

This is starting to get on my nerves

Why did I even asked the staff for permission, I should’ve picked you up that’s all

you — 0.12s ago

no no no

im good baby don’t worry about me

people are weird everyday !!!!!

oscar baby — 0.9s ago

That’s not helping but okay baby

Please just get to [Your best friend’s name]’s car safely

you — 0.7s ago

dw im already outside the airport

oh

wait

do you think there is a celebrity or something that is coming out the airport ????

bc there’s literally tons of paparazzi out there

um wait a damn second

WHY R THEY SCREAMING MY NAME WTF IM NOT SELENA GOMEZ

oscar baby — 0.6s ago

Oh shit

liked by lilymhe, danielricciardo and many others…

yourusername (if we ignore the fact that my big ass face is trending on twitter) im happy to be home 🤍

view all the comments

oscarpiastri And by home, she means me

yourusername obviously 🙄

landonorris can’t even breath next to oscar she’s hugging him like a koala

yourusername you see him everyday bro don’t get on my nerves

landonorris you scare me so yes

user THE PAPARAZZI PICS PLS ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

user you literally flipped them off 😂😂😂

yourusername they were starting to get on my nerves bruh

user queen

user omg finally the return of yourname and oscar’s pictures 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

danielricciardo 😂😂

yourusername stop laughing

danielricciardo Ok Lord Farquaad

yourusername if we don’t fight at the next race i don’t understand

user OMG YOURNAME IS COMING TO THE NEXT RACE

landonorris LMAO I JUST SAW THE LADY’S VIDEO ON TWITTER

yourusername she literally zoomed on my pimples wtf ????????????????

lilymhe i wanna become bestie w you

yourbestfriend you’re not stealing my place ❗️❗️

lilymhe please ☹️

yourbestfriend how much would you pay

lilymhe can i pay you w food ?

yourbestfriend you BETTER pay me w food

user can we just stop and talk about the beauty of this woman

user like why are you being so gorgeous and for what reasons

liked by oscarpiastri

mclaren We missed your health walks in the paddock ! 😂🧡

yourusername i missed you too admin

oscarpiastri and yourusername posted new stories !

© eatingaburrito

[cuckette]

tw. ddlg duh, smut, fluff, daddy kink, pacifier

note. umm.. just ddlg w og4 leon 😭 @d10nyx fault!! she did this and . most of this is her doing.. written so late so ignore typos cuz idk I’m . this is frantic and sick and it might be ooc but pleek.. let me LIVE not my best just rambling I think

Your boyfriend has always been, for a lack of better words, strange. Stoic sounds way too serious, and well, to be sardonic you have to be a little more clever with your words. Leon’s cynical.

And yet, you think he likes it more than you do.

For the first time in your life, you see light in his eyes. He might’ve seen God. Eats you out like it’s the second coming and then bends you over for the third.

It started slow, you ease into it like you’re taking his fat cock— But Leon, he comes at you, guns blazing, pacifier in hand and dick rock hard.

“Go on, baby, give daddy a twirl.” He’s always so gentle. And you wonder what sort of demon has gotten into him. You wonder who took your Leon away and gave you daddy instead, but it’s nothing to complain about. “C’mon, baby, aren’t you my little ballerina?”

You are, you so are. So you give him that spin he desires so badly, satisfied by the appreciative groan that leaves his throat at the flirty flutter of your skirt. Angelina Ballerina has taught you well.

“Did you miss me?” Leon asks, the tip of his nose digging into your shoulder when he lays his head down.

A simple nod doesn’t suffice. He hooks his finger in the plastic handle of your pacifier, pops it out to see those spit-slicked lips of yours.

“Daddy taught you how to use your big girl words, baby.” Leon’s face is impassive. It’s hard to tell if he’s mad or if he’s teasing you for the sake of teasing you. He gets off on it, you think.

“I missed you,” you croak out, pawing at his chest.

“Baby.” He clicks his tongue in warning.

“Daddy… I missed daddy.”

“Baby missed daddy?” He says this shit like it means nothing. Like it isn’t enough to throw your entire world off-kilter.

(An hour later, when you hand Leon a beer and ask him if he’s alright, he’ll say something mildly suicidal to the point of concern. The shame of being your daddy is all-consuming, and to be honest, it’s a little funny when he comes down like that. Head in his hands, talking ‘bout how he can’t do that again— Can’t do no more of that, back to plain ol’ dick, no daddy, no princess parts, he’s tossing the rubbers out— Not the condoms, just that pacifier.)

“Mhm.” You nod, lips smacking against nothing, the taste of rubber lingers.

“Look at that,” Leon coos, “need something in that little mouth, hm?”

You nod again, pleading him with your eyes alone for the comfort of your pacifier.

“No, baby, this cute little mouth is made for daddy’s cock.” It comes out so easy. Like he’s made for it, to be a perverted fucking freak all for you. He excels at it, you wonder if he’d consider leaving his job to do this full-time.

He lays you down on the couch, kisses your ankle and then spreads your thighs to nose at your fat pussy through your heart-print panties, pointed nose bumping your clit when he drags it through the seam.

“Daddy…” you whine, and your hole flutters when he mouths at your clothed cunt.

“Oh, I know, my baby, my poor baby, you need daddy’s kisses, yeah?” He says this all straight-faced. “Need daddy’s kisses to make it all better.” Leon bites your chubby pussy lips, and then he squishes them together to make your clit tingle.

Daddy’s promised kisses never come. When he peels off your sticky undies, stringy slick webbing from your puffy cunt to the soaked crotch of your panties. Instead of his hot mouth or those perfect lips on your clit, the rubbery nub of your pacifier runs along your folds, sucked into your greedy hole as it pulses, pussy squelching as you push it out and Leon pushes it back in.

“Noo… That’s dirty, daddy.”

“No, honey, that little mouth is dirty.” Leon unbuckles his belt. “Gotta wash it out with soap.”

“Didn’t do nothing, daddy.” Pouting your way out of it never works. ‘Cause he punishes you on a whim.

“You’re talking back to daddy, baby,” he hums, thick thighs on either side of your head, “we can’t have that can we, pumpkin?” He feeds the tip of his dick past your parted lips, drippy pre coating your tongue. “Much better.”

You beg to differ. No offence to Leon, but you’d take the taste of rubber over the salt of his precum any day. It’s softer though. Velvety in your mouth as you suckle, looking up at him sweetly ‘cause Leon likes your pretty eyes. He wraps a hand around the base to pull his cock from your mouth, it slips out with a wet pop.

“That’s all my baby can take,” he says.

“Mhm, daddy.” No it’s not.

“You’re too little for daddy, aren’t you? Gotta be careful, don’t want you to hurt yourself, baby.”

“Mhm, daddy.” No you’re not, you take it to the hilt on most nights.

“Yeah, so give it a kiss, baby, help daddy cum,” Leon says, jerking his cock while you press open-mouthed kisses to the leaky head, lapping at the slit till his seed dribbles out like icing from a piping bag. Your pacifier is taken out of your pussy, he rubs the nub on your lips to clean it off, and you know he’s feeling mean enough to neglect that ache in your clit.

The embarrassment settles in a moment later. For Leon, never for you. He groans softly when you crawl into his lap, lifting his shirt to feel his hardened stomach, the softness of his chest. To spare himself of any more Totally Spies talk, he smushes your face into his chest and you latch onto his nipple knowing how much he hates (read: loves) it.

[bigfatbimbo]

I Wanna Hold the Hand Inside You —

728 words,, Velvette x reader

a/n — I got this fic out wayyy later than I wanted because I got so side tracked with that OC shit.

summary — Velvette teaches the reader how to dance.

warnings — cursing(???), I guess??, really nothing, just fluff fluff fluff

“Velvette, oh my god. Stop laughing!” You hiss from across the room

Velvette did, in fact, not even stop to take a breath. She simply kept snorting and giggling at you relentlessly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said through snickers, “It’s just that any old buffoon knows how to dance.”

“Well, I’m not any old buffoon,” you cross your arms and roll your eyes.

“Aw, come on!” Velvette teased, crossing towards you, “No need to pout, darling. It’s cute.”

She didn’t hesitate to take your hands in hers and place them on each side of her hips. 

“Here, let me show you,” She said, queuing up music on her phone, “You pick up a thing or two watching Valentino and Vox fuck around with this shit.”

“Velv, I don’t think you know the challenge you’re getting yourself into, right now,” You joke, but really you were completely serious.

“Bullshit,” she said, “I’ll be damned if I don’t turn you into a great dancer by the end of the night.”

You still look hesitant so she adds, “Don’t worry, i’ll tell you what to do.”

She places her hands on your shoulders and starts to move her hips slightly, leading your hands in the same direction. You take the hint and move your feet.

You’re awkward, though, clumsily swaying side to side with little to no rhythm. Your feet try to follow hers, but you end up stepping on her shoes.

She tries to hide her huff, those shoes took forever to finish and now they’re scuffed.

“No, sweetheart. Find the beat, “ She uses her hands on your chest to push you in the right direction. “Here, follow my feet. Right, then back, then left, then forward.”

“I’m no good at this, Velvette.”

“If you keep complaining, of course not,” she snips, glancing up at you with a quiet reassuring smile. 

She wasn’t good at quiet or comfort so it wasn’t entirely convincing, however you trust in her and followed her steps. 

Finally, Velvette sighed in relief. You were starting to get a hang of it. She reaches further up to comfortably rest her hands on your shoulders.

“Good, darling. Just like that,” she says. 

Your eyes are focused on your feet for one last moment, chanting her instructions under your breath.

At last, you look up at her, falling into a secure rhythmic peace. The room is silent for one moment and you just stare at her.

She looked beautiful, to say the least. And the funny thing is, in any other situation, you would have told her that directly. But it felt wrong to break the peace in that moment; soft music coming from Velvette phone speaker, her gazing up at you adoringly. 

She broke eye contact and moved closer, resting her head on your chest as you both danced. 

After a long moment, and an entire song, she pulls away from you and moves one of her hands off your shoulders, taking yours. 

She lifts it up above her, “Look, now you spin me,” she says, doing the motion.

She spins away from you and looks at you expectantly, “Now, pull me closer and i’ll spin back into you, and then you can—“

Her sentence is cut off with a small yelp as you yank her towards you, making her twirl back into your arms, and dipping her.

“Something like that?” You ask with a proud smile,  gazing down at her.

For a moment, she still looks surprised by your quick motion, but then the smile returns, “Yes, yes, you flirt. Exactly like that.” 

She leans up to kiss you, arms wrapping around your neck. You still clutch onto her waist, grinning into the kiss.

“Okay, okay, get off of me, you big idiot,” she says through a smile, “See? I told you I was right.”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess i’m pretty good at dancing now, right?” you lean away from her and laugh.

“Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re no ballerina, that’s for damn sure,” She takes your hand and leads you away, “Alright, dance lesson over. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Whatever you say, teacher,” and you let her lead you to the couch.

She cozies up and rests her head on your chest as you sling an arm around her, pulling her closer. With that, you finally settle down for the night.

a/n — this fic was inspired by fade into you by mazzy star if it wasn’t incredibly obvious BTW!!

[pandorxxx]

My Ballerina

Neteyam x omatikayan fem reader (aged up Characters)

Warnings: smut, p in v, neck grabbing, multiple orgasms, creampie, soft-dom Neteyam (whimpering and moaning like the slut he is) , cursing, flexible reader

🔞minors, do not Interact🔞

“Shit!” You shouted in frustration, voice echoing through the forest. You had been stretching for the past 30 minutes, but it wasn’t the same without your partner. She had been gone on a hunting retreat for some time now, and you were in desperate need of her at the moment. She had been gone so long that you were slowly loosing your flexibility.

You had been trying to use the huge rock for help, but it wasn’t working. Most of your stretches required assistance, and there was no one else who would push you to the limit like your friend.

You heard rustling in the trees, snapping your head towards the sound. Out comes none other than Neteyam. He had his bow around his body, hair swinging from side to side with every step. He stopped in his tracks, seeing you visibly frustrated.

“Oh, hey y/n! What are you doing out here?” He asked with a light smile, peering up at you, as you stood on the huge rock in-front of him.

“Stretching for my dance tomorrow. It’s not going that well.” You sighed, bending down to be eye level with him. You sat down, crossing your legs as your head hung in your hands. “Ooohhh yeah! I heard about that!” He said in an excited tone before looking around in confusion.

“Where’s your friend? The one that you always stretch with? Is she still on that hunting retreat?” He asked, resting his arms on the rock, next to your legs.

“Unfortunately. And I need her, you know? Some of these stretches can’t be done without help.” You shook your head in defeat. He sighed, feeling bad that your friend wasn’t here to help you. Then he had a thought.

“I mean, I have time. I just don’t know much about stretching. Or the flexible shit that you do.” He chuckled, earning a giggle from you.

“I don’t want to hold you up. It could take a minute.” You confessed, sliding off of the rock to stand in-front of his towering figure.

“Anything for my favorite little ballerina. Just tell me what I’ve got to do, and I’ll do it.” He smiled, slowly removing his bow from his body, tossing it to the side. You blushed, rocking from side to side.

“Well alright then. Don’t say I didn’t give you a warning.” You joked, pointing at him with narrow eyes. You walked over to the rock again, signaling for him to come closer.

“Just lean against the rock, and follow my lead.” You commanded in your innocent voice. He did what he was told, glaring at you in the process.“Like this?” He asked with a slight smirk.

It was no secret that Neteyam liked you, he always made that known. But it felt like he was trying really hard tonight, and boy was it working. You trailed his hard abs that glistened from the night sky. His hair hanging just right. The band of his loincloth, resting on his hips loosely to reveal his prominent V-line. Fuck, he was so hot, and he knew it too.

“Yeah, just like that.” You licked your bottom lip slightly, meeting his lustful gaze. You walked over to him, before turning around, backing into his chest. He bent down to your ear, placing his large hands on your shoulders. “Now what?” He asked in a low tone, rattling your ear drum just right.

“I’m gonna bend over, and I need you to grab my leg, ok? I’ll tell you the rest when I’m in position.” You spoke, turning slightly to see his face. He nodded, waiting for you to make your next move.

You took a step forward before bending down in-front of him, palms touching the moss beneath you. You kicked your right leg up, and Neteyam grabbed it.

“Ok! As I back up, push my leg higher.” You shouted, backing into him slowly. “Got it, keep coming back.” He commanded, pushing your leg higher, as you backed into him slowly. At this point, you were doing a split across his body, as he held your leg. Your pelvis was flush with his, causing an interesting amount of friction that you tried to ignore. “Damn, you’re doing good y/n. Let me know if I’m hurting you.” He reassured, caressing the back of your leg.

“No I’m fine! I need you to grab my arms, and pull me up now!” You strained reaching you hand behind you to grab his. His eyes widened in concern, but he still grabbed your arm.

“Umm, don’t you think that’s a little much? I mean, look at you. It can’t get more flexible than this, my love.” He chuckled, taking in your position. Your tail waved in-front of his face before wrapping around his neck lightly. He bit his lip, getting aroused by your sensual advances.

“Come on Neteyam! You’ve gotta stretch me out. I’m fine, I swear!” You giggled, using your tail to trail down his chest. He Shook his head with a light chuckle before grabbing your arm, pulling you up slowly. You grunted the whole way, trying to take the pain.

“You ok?” He asked, holding you in place. “Y-yeah, just go slow.” You whined, balling your face up. He nodded, pulling you slower until you were at a 90 degree angle against him.

“Ok, no more. I feel like I’m going to break your little ass.” He spoke in a concerned tone. “Yeah, t-this is enough.” You giggled, throwing your head down as he held you by the folds of your arms.

“Just pull me back, stretch me a little more.” You said calmly, and he obliged. Pushing you back into him repeatedly, stretching your legs just right. He shifted both of your dainty arms into one of his large hands, before holding your leg to his chest with the other one.

“Fuck!” You shouted, really feeling the burn when he held your leg in place. “Shit, am I hurting you?” He asked, stopping his movements. “y-yeah, but that’s the point. Just keep going.” You strained, trying your best to keep your composure. He hesitated, but continued rocking you back and forth, pelvises kissing every time. He was trying his best to be a gentleman, but the friction was becoming to much for him. He closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw, trying to think of something else.

Your silent cries weren’t helping him either. He tried his best to refrain from getting a boner, but it was growing with every meeting to his crotch.He threw his head back, low growls rumbling in his chest.

You could feel him growing against you, making a good amount of friction for you, almost masking the pain of the stretch.

“o-ok, we can move on to something else.” You chuckled nervously, rotating your leg down to the ground. He let out a sigh of relief, gently releasing your arms before you stood up straight. You turned to face him, glancing down at his bulge before meeting his eye contact.

“Um, now you gotta help me stretch my left leg.” You spoke hesitatingly, knowing that this stretch would probably send him over the edge. He shook his head, hunching over to place his hands on his knees.

“Y/n…I don’t think I can do this. I’m trying my best to be a gentleman, but I didn’t think the stretches would be this intimate. And I like you too much, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He confessed, hanging his head low in disappointment. You walked over to him, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Neteyam, I know you’re a gentleman. You can’t control how you feel, and that’s fine. I’m sorry I caused…this.” You spoke in your soft voice, peering into his desperate eyes. As much as you loved to maintain that innocent reputation, Neteyam was making you hot, and you wouldn’t mind helping him with his…big problem.

“I can help you, I-if you’d let me.” You whispered, placing your hand on the band of his loincloth, making him let out a low groan.

“Y/n, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” He spoke lowly, gripping your hand that was caressing his cheek.

“You didn’t ask…” you started, before sliding your hand into his loincloth, gripping his throbbing cock. He let out a moan, slumping over onto your shoulder. “I offered.” You whispered in his ear, jerking his cock, as you held him in your arms.

“Can I untie this for you?” You asked, taking your hand out of his loincloth, bringing it to the tie that held him together.

“p-please?” He whimpered, pushing his throbbing cock against your pelvis. You reached around to his tail, untying the knot before it dropped to the ground. His cock hit his stomach, leaving a sticky line of precum. He hissed at the cool breeze hitting his swollen tip, reaching down to jerk himself off.

“Can you untie mine?” You asked, pulling his hand away from his cock, placing it on your loincloth band. He bit his lip, reaching around to untie your loincloth as he stared into your eyes.

“Are you going to let me put you in any position I want? You know I love how flexible you are.” He tilted his head, essentially begging you to fuck him. Your loincloth dropped to the ground, revealing your bare cunt.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” You spoke in that soft voice of yours, pulling your leg over his shoulder, pelvis flush with his. He held your leg in his arm, kissing it before gripping his aching cock.

“Thank you, baby. You’re so good to me.” He whined in a needy tone, pressing his cock against your dripping cunt, sliding in slowly. You both let out a series of moans as he thrusted into you slowly, getting the correct rhythm. He slid his hand up to your neck, gripping it firmly as his face balled up in pleasure.

“Y-you ok, my love?” He strained, thrusting into you at a faster pace, grazing your sweet spot with his swollen tip. “Mhm! Just -ngh! Please, don’t stop!” You whimpered, gripping his huge arm tightly as your face twisted in pleasure.

“I won’t, baby. I won’t! You- ugh!- feel so good, y/n.” He moaned, squeezing your neck alittle tighter, and speeding up the pace once more. With every thrust, you let out a high pitched whimper, watching him slide in and out of you.

“Neteyam! Neteyam! Neteyam!” You chanted loudly, feeling your lower abdomen tighten.

“I know, baby. Feels good for you too?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your neck, still gripping it tightly. He gave you one hard thrust, leaving it there as he twitched inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum Neteyam!” You whined, feeling his tip massage your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. He nodded his head, meeting your desperate gaze.

“Cum on this dick, baby. Make my fucking day! Come on, you can do it!” He praised, placing his forehead on yours. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping to the ground. Neteyam following your lead as he felt you clench around him. You stared into each others eyes, both of you completely silent, jaws slack as the moans got stuck in your throats.

All that could be heard was skin clapping, and the loud squelching noises with every stroke. Your eyes rolled back, shaking in his arms violently as you came undone on him. Each stroke revealing his cream coated cock.

“Shiiiit! Juuust like that baby. Such a beautiful site.” He growled lowly in your ear before throwing his head back, releasing inside of you.

“Yessss!” You whined loudly, feeling his seed seep into your empty womb. He thrusted into you slowly, letting you ride out your high before pulling out of you slowly. He guided your leg back down to the ground before picking you up, taking you over to the rock, laying you on your back.

“Can you open it up? Wide for me, please?” He asked, standing in between your legs as he tapped your sticky cunt with his cock. You nodded frantically, opening your legs wide for him. He bit his lip, mesmerized at your flexibility.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He asked with a slight smirk, tilting his head as he glared at you. He yanked you towards him, pushing your legs behind your head. You tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth as you watched him slide into you slowly. He leaned down to you, shifting your legs onto his shoulders, folding you up completely.

He thrusted into you slowly, sticky pelvises kissing with every meeting, lines of both you and neteyam’s fluids connecting the two of you. He thrusted into you hard and deep, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. Low growls and loud moans filled the forest.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby.” He moaned in your ear, pushing your knees down on the rock. You let out a soft moan, as you felt him go deeper, and deeper, and deeper with each stroke.

“Mmm, keep fucking me juuuust like that, then. Don’t stop, please!” You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his broad back, scratching it up from the pleasure.

“I promise I won’t stop! This pussy is too fucking good to stop.” He growled, leaving wet kisses on your neck before gnawing at it. You balled your face up in pleasure, feeling his cock slide in and out of you with such ease, hitting your sensitive sweet spot with every thrust.

“You’re gonna make me cum again, Neteyam!” You moaned in his ear, tapping his back as a way of warning him.

“s-so am I, fuck fuck fuck!” He groaned, speeding the pace up as he held onto the back of your knees, moaning and whimpering loudly. The fast and hard slams to your sweet spot sent you over the edge.

“Shit! Im fucking cumming!” You screamed, convulsing under him as you came undone for the second time. You held him tightly, as your back bowed to the rock, sending your head all the way back. He slide his arm under your slender back, using it as leverage to fuck you like an animal. Your mouth flew opened, arms flying over your head to hold onto the edge of the rock. His moans were muffled by his head being buried in your chest. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach again, tears welling in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. “Neteyam! I-I can’t stop cumming!” You cried, back still bowed to the rock as you hung your head back.

“It’s ok, baby. Cum on this dick again! I’m begging you!” He growled, kissing your chest as he nuzzled his head deeper into your flesh. And just like that, you came undone for the third time. Spazzing in his strong grasp as you screamed his name. “Fuck, baby! I’m so fucking close. Gonna fill you up again.” He moaned, mouth slightly agape as his eye rolled back. His thrusts became sloppier before he shot his second load inside of you, letting out a guttural moan.

“Shiiiit!” He groaned, shaking from his orgasm. You moaned lowly, feeling him thrust into you slowly to ride out his high. You both were breathing hard, trying desperately to calm down.

“Thanks for stretching me out.” You giggled, still trying to catch your breath as he laid in between your legs. He chuckled breathily, sitting up a-little to become face to face with you.

“Tell your friend to stay on that retreat. I’m Your new partner now.”

I was horny, so here y’all go lol. Hope y’all enjoy! Goodnight😉

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @lovedbychoi @neteyamlover1213

[sunnitheapollokid]

SUNNI CAN I REQUEST A LEO X READER TYYYY 💗💗💗

🩰┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。DANCING WITH FIRE ➳♡゛

leo valdez x ballerina!reader blurb <3

📬 sunni’s notes : HI ARTIST!! OF COURSE!! i didn’t know what specific fic you wanted, but i just thought about this (bc i too am a dancer i fucking love dancing but it’s such a pain in the booty my legs and feet always feel like shit after.) AND I JUST FEEL LIKE LEO WITH A DANCER. WOULD BE SO. KENSJSBNA. i just feel like he would be so supportive. also i’m thinking of doing hoo sevens some headcanons and cabin headcanons what do you guys wanna see first?!? okay, lub you!!

(name) groaned, as she massaged the sole’s of her feet. “oh titan..” she mumbled, tucking a lose strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

finishing her last class of the week, she felt the weight lift off her shoulders. “later, (nickname)!” a few of her friends from that class waved, their sportsbag slinged over their shoulders.

“bye girls!!” she beamed. the quiet silence of the mirrored room got to (name)’s head quickly, she took her phone out and plugged it into the speaker. she played any one of her favorite songs.

she stretched and exterted her body to until she felt warmed up, and she twirled, spinned, gracefully. the flows of her tiny silk skirt dancing with her and the wind, with a chasse and a flick of a kick—

“princessa?”

the voice of her boyfriend’s echoed the room, the sweet honey smile of his lighting up the already sunshine filled room.

“amor!” she exclaimed, landing on the flats of her feet and smiling to see him leaning by the door’s frame. “you look,” he snickered, walking over to her to give her a kiss on the back of her hand.

(name) looked messy, at least to her. her hair was frizzy from all the sweat, the warmers of her legs were railing down and nonetheless, her feet felt like hell.

“beautiful.” she affectionately rolled her eyes to give him another kiss on the cheek. leo was wearing the usual white tank, and baggy pants covered in grease, signifying his time at the forge. it was a little funny to people when they found out that (name) and leo had started dating.

(name) was clean, precise, and graceful. like a swan. while leo was messy, spontaneous, and a real klutz sometimes. like a raccoon. but they meshed so well together, it starts to make sense when you truly think about it.

“you can’t be serious babe.” she snickered, leo could just melt at that. “i am deadly serious.” he spun her around like you’d usually do at a ball or gala.

she sighed dreamily as they locked eye contact before leo leaned in to kiss her, a good “mm..” coming out of leo’s lips before bringing up the showcase. “how’s practice?” he asked with a wide grin.

she shook her head with a deep frown, “still.. working on it.” leo mirrored the frown on his girlfriend’s face. “sit down baby.” he spoke softly, you kneeling down to criss-cross and so did he.

he massaged her feet while he hummed, “you’re going to be there right?” she smiled, her eyes glued to his hands rubbing her feet. “course i will!” he laughed, “i’ll be there at the very front being embarassing and yelling out,”

“FUCK YEAH LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND TWIRL— BITCHES!”

she cackled, their voices echoeing the room like a harmony. “gods, don’t do that. you’ll get kicked out before the second act.” the blood from leo’s face diminished. “i’m kidding.” she laughed.

“did i mention how pretty you look?” leo shot, the music still playing in the background — which was absolutely perfect. the way that the sun shone over (name)’s eyes sent leo over the moon. and the way leo’s curls fell on his motoroil-covered face was so perfect, it made (name) melt.

“you did.”

“don’t think so.”

“yeah?”

“well if i didn’t, let me say it, you look so, so, beautiful, cariño.”

(guys just imagine the chorus of unstoppable - camila mora from the “leap!” soundtrack in the background)

and he kissed her forehead another time.

—

(name) stepped into the light with a smile, her beautiful pink costume making her look like a princess. graceful as ever, she gave a courtesy as the crowd cheered. but all she ever looked for was leo.

there in the middle and the front, leo was yelling the loudest of them all, a bouquet of her favorite flowers in his hands. he cupped his hand over his mouth to yell, “(NAME)!! MAMI I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!! YEAH THAT’S MY GIRL!!”

she giggled, lifting her head up to give him numerous flying kisses. leo had pretended to catch them and kissing his palm in the process.

backstage, leo had engulfed her in a hug, the flowers almost destroyed. “d’you hear me?!” he asked with a smile. she nodded, laughing.

“people we’re wondering who said ‘look at my girlfriend twirl bitches!’ in the middle of act two.”

“can’t help that i’m so proud of you princessa.”

they stayed in each other’s arms for a good second, before (name) knocked out in his arms and he had to bring her home.

[cx-boxbox]

Short landoscar drabble inspired by the picture taken outside of the McLaren motorhome (~500 words):

Oscar jumps when the alarms start ringing, and his first instinct is to get the fuck out of here.

He doesn’t go with his first instinct.

Taking the steps two at a time, he bursts into Lando’s room, throwing the door open like a crazed man. And sure enough, Lando is right there, curled up on his tiny bed and sleeping through the alarm like it’s a lullaby.

Oscar’s eyes land on his socks. Interesting choice of footwear you got there, mate.

“What the fuck. Wake up.”

Well, surely a moment or two to catch his breath… and stare at Lando in his cutest, most vulnerable state wouldn’t hurt.

The alarms are still going. Lando is still sleeping.

Oscar exhales. “Oi, mate, you’re really not making this easy for me. If I pull a muscle and don’t make it to quali, I’m blaming you.”

Swiftly, he grabs Lando around the waist and hauls him up, practically tossing him over his shoulder. Thank fuck, his teammate is tiny. Three apples tall.

Lando immediately startles awake and scrambles for purchase, screeching, “Oscar?!”

At least, he’s not struggling against the hold Oscar has around his upper thighs.

Oscar ignores him and the fingers digging into his back and just the fact that he’s carrying Lando out like a groom would his bride in Ancient Greece or something.

“Oscar, my shoes!”

“No time for that,” Oscar replies. It’s Lando’s fault for taking them off before wandering about and then promptly falling asleep. He should be grateful he’s otherwise fully clothed.

Lando whines sadly.

“I’m going to put you down now.”

He whines again. “I’m actually rather comfy. The view’s pretty nice too.”

Fighting his blush, Oscar gives Lando’s butt a little pat in response and carefully sets him down on his feet, aware of the gravel and the thin material of his tiny socks. Lando looks disheveled, and his cheeks are pink, like being tossed over Oscar’s shoulder like a sack of flour somehow caused all the blood in his body to rush to his head.

Unable to contain himself, Oscar bursts out laughing at his teammate just standing there with his hands on his hips, looking very much like a small disgruntled kitten in skinny jeans and ballerina socks.

Jon hurries over, glancing between them, and says, “Oh my God, I was looking for you two- Lando, where are your shoes?”

Lando glares at Oscar, who wheezes. It’s not even that funny to begin with, but there’s a camera right behind them.

“Mate, your ballerina socks are going to go viral,” he manages to say at last, wiping a tear. Just to be a shit, he quotes, “‘And it’s all too much for little Lando Norris, twenty-four years old. He just needs a bit of sleep.’”

“Are you quite done?” Lando huffs. The back of his left sock fell when Oscar put him down, and he fights the urge to crouch down and fix it for him.

That would be kind of weird for teammates. And extremely intimate.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

He and Jon proceed to tease Lando relentlessly about his socks.

But once the fire is cleared, Oscar still plucks Lando up off the ground the moment he begins complaining about how much his feet hurt.

[ladybirdswritings]

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary - Miguel is forced to dwell over the consequences of his own actions. Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

seven ,, miguel’s POV

“You have some cojones, Miguel O’Hara.”

My eyes slowly lift from the place where they were once glued, the small tree. It still stands, the shattered and jagged bite of glass the most unavoidable ornament. Right in the enter for my eyes to see.

It’s been a week, one week of plain, suffocating normality. No clumsy girl, no doe eyes that I can only seem to fill with tears. No intimidating someone who I can’t guess the reaction of, no excitement.

My girls must feel it too. Maybe they liked having those stupid ribbons and pearly white smile bouncing around the office. Maybe they liked the distraction. Too bad. It’s better this way…

“Jessica, mi amor— though I always enjoy your visits in with me-”

She raises a suspicious brow at my words but I continue before she takes the first chance she can to interrupt me, as always…

“Today isn’t the day.” It really, truly fucking isn’t.

I sound apathetic, unbothered. Truthfully, I am bothered. I am bothered because it's been a week and yet I feel this uncomfortable burning at my mind. It’s inhuman, unnatural. I’ve yelled at dozens before, girls even sweeter than her. Girls with pretty eyes and pouty lips, melting into expressions of horror and sorrow. It was expected, needed. They needed to become better, to not be weak.

So why the fuck do I feel like I was in the wrong this time?

Jessica, coiled locks tamed back with a headband and stomach protruding with her soon to be first-born, she huffs as she sits down on my corner chair.

“This still work?” She asks. Stupid question. I regard her with dark, annoyed eyes and a single nod. She immediately presses the button, then heat and vibrations engulf her. She moans in content, enjoying the ease of tension in her back from carrying that child around.

“Oh yeah, it does. God I love this thing.” Her voice is vibrating.

Good, she should. It’s for her anyways. There’s no other moody, bossy and inhumanly hungry pregnant woman in sight. Gracias a Dios. Me mataría.

She’s distracted, I believe for a second that maybe I’ve just been saved by that expensive fucking chair but oh no, lately I’m just proving to be an unlucky bastard. She talks again.

“Where was I… oh yeah, that’s the problem, Miguel. It’s never the day with you. But shit, when I get curious and decide to check those security tapes and see you caging a small girl against the wall and making her hunch over in fear? Today is gonna have to be the day. What the fuck happened to morale? Why couldn’t you take it out on Moon, on someone we know, at least.” She doesn’t understand, I don’t expect her to.

I narrow my eyes, lifting from my seat. I don’t like being on her level. I feel suffocated there, with all these questions. Boss of my own empire and yet I’m getting an inquisition by a woman I hired. Regardless, my mind is clearer when I stare out at the city, looking down at all those people. I feel big, powerful. Like I know everything. I do, mostly. This time though? I don’t.

Me está volviendo loco.

And that’s because of that fucking girl. Es un misterio, un enigma. Never in my life have I sat across from someone I don’t fucking understand. I didn’t get this successful from not understanding the idiots around me, no. But her? I didn’t expect the dramatics.

“I don’t always like what I have to do, but I know I have to be the one to do it. Involving my personal life into her work is not only inappropriate but it is disrespectful.” I sound uninterested, lazed with my words. I know Jessica, they won’t be enough for her.

“You know what’s inappropriate? Your employees watching Lacy walk into your office in shorts that barely cover her nonexistent ass. You think they don’t know you’re banging her in between meetings?”

My jaw ticks, and I exhale all the air from my lungs through my nose.

“I know they know.”

I do. I do and I don’t give a shit what they think. I have urges, needs. No, not wants. Needs. Uncontrollable, demanding. My eyes glaze over my window, memories of fucking Lacy here with her pretty tits hung for the world to see. The thought brings me peace.

Jessica leans forward or tries too with that protruded stomach of hers.

“Oh you do. Okay, right. So that’s okay but a picture of Gabby isn’t?”

Gabby.

Mi princesa.

The name is like the crown on Medusa’s head. But I don’t let it freeze me, no. I don’t let it stop me from moving. Working. Breathing. Reacting. I react. I react before it can stop me and if that stupid girl would’ve done as she was told, she wouldn’t have had to be on the other side of those reactions.

I hate it.

Fucking hate it when they utter her name. Jessica… she’s lucky she’s pregnant and lucky she’s Jessica because coño, I would case her up against the wall too if she wasn’t.

“No, Jessica. It’s not okay. Lacy equates to a fucking— masseuse.” I snap.

“She’s massaging something alright.” She interjects.

“Carajo.” I exhale, reaching angrily at my silk handkerchief and tossing it with force to the leather loveseat. There’s no winning with her. Back in my throne, I collapse.

She’s infuriating, and she’s lecturing me over a girl that was only here for a week and has already caused so much trouble. Me está dando vueltas la cabeza.

“What is it Jessica, huh? What— are you dumbstruck by her stupid ribbons and worn-out clothes too?” It’s the only explanation for this. The girl must be a witch.

She sucks her teeth at that,

“Nope. I never even met the girl. Seems like it’s you that’s dumbstruck.”

Me?

That thought… it’s stupid.

My fists clench, a sting of pain burning at the place where she dug those nails into me. There’s skin dented there.

“Cállate.” I warn. But she’s Jessica. She’s not Mary Jane, not Cindy or any of my other obedient girls. Es un dolor de cabeza.

To no surprise, she does anything but shut the fuck up.

“Look, I could give less of a shit if your dick does a dance for her or not—”

“Dios mío…” She’s gone crazy.

“My point is— we don’t know her. We don’t know her, and she could talk. She could tell the story of how you emotionally and fuck— almost physically assaulted her to the Bugle and then what?”

I shake my head at that. She’s fucking wrong.

“I would never put my hands on her.” Not her. Not any woman.

Jessica displays two defeated palms up in the air, annoyance laced in their lines.

“But ya did, Miguel. You did when you grabbed her chin. And wether you and I know that it was softly or not, it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s about what they believe, what they see and you look psychotic on that tape.”

I turn my face from her, grinding my teeth as I search my mind for a way to answer back. To explain.

I can’t. I can’t and it makes me angrier.

“You’re not invincible, Miguel. People get tired of your shit and we agreed. We agreed that if you kept the reins on your issues, it would be enough. You don’t have to come to the gatherings or the holiday meetings. They know you don’t give a shit about any of them-”

“They’re employees.” I interrupt. Their job is to follow my orders and keep smiles on their pretty faces. That is morale.

“Yeah, they’re employees and they don’t get paid enough to deal with your shit.”

My eyes say it all, she knows that’s not true. Their checks are full. My girls have paid off debt, bought houses, taken vacations and bought all their materialistic heart desire. Some within their first year with me. Jessica sighs, shaking her head at my stubbornness. Silence blankets us and I fucking prefer it that way.

“My point is that people can walk, Miguel. They can walk when they aren’t happy. When they read the outsiders input on your bad behavior. Nobody wants to work for an asshole and fuck, I don’t blame her for walking out. Actually, I respect her for it. The girl’s shoes are practically falling off of her feet and she’s wearing skirts in the winter, yet it looks like she’d rather starve on those ice-cold New York City streets than work for someone who spits on her effort and time.”

Her words strike me silent. It seems like Jessica Drew is the only one who can make me have nothing to say. Què maravilla. I won’t admit that it’s because she’s right. She isn’t.

…

She might be.

My silence, it prompts her to continue. She shuts the seat off, groaning as she stands to her feet. She waddles to me, one hand on my cherrywood desk as she bows her head to speak to me.

“Look, I know this shit isn’t easy. I get that. You and I? We’re day ones. Peter and I watched you build this company up from the ground. We watched you make something of yourself. The bastard kid out of Nueva York turned into the bastard man above it. And I- … I lost her too, Miguel. Lost her. I didn’t forget her, and I sure as fuck don’t want to run from her. If someone was so fucking kind enough to put effort into making me that—”

Her eyes glow golden as they fall upon the small tree, on the shattered ornament with that beautiful, delicate smile. My girl. Against my own will, I find myself stuck, gazing at it too.

“Shit, maybe I’d promote them. That? That’s special, it’s kind. Most people don’t have the guts to do that, especially not for a boss— let alone a new one… but as always, you’ve laid down the cement on yet another grave. No chance in hell she comes back, no chance we fix this before Jameson gets his dirty hands on it.”

Jameson. Maldito cerdo.

It was his men that he sent out that day. All of them gathered up on my doorstep like fucking vultures, flashing their lights at the place where my baby girl just— fuck...

He was a lucky son of a bitch that day. I would’ve snapped that cockroach’s neck if it weren’t for Murdock.

Fuck…

I don’t like loose ends. No, I don’t like being wrong. I strive every day of my life to be anything but it. I was wrong once. And look what it cost me? My baby’s life. I won’t make the same mistake again. Not with my company.

Sure as hell not because of the balding bastard and a delicate girl with ribbons in her hair.

No.

“I’ll convince her.” I will. I’ll mail her check with a note attached. An invitation back. Maybe I’ll raise her pay. She could use it, anyway.

But Jessica fucking Drew. Always finding microscopic holes in my plans. She laughs at me.

She fucking laughs at me as she straightens her back, hands resting on the place where her baby kicks.

“Sure, good luck with that. She might’ve hunched over and cried but damn— I saw the way she dug those nails into you. She’s a tough one… besides, I think it’s best If you keep away. Don’t wanna make their new front cover story more interesting.”

Que mierda.

I raise my hand, pinching at the place where tension pools between my brows. Fucking Jessica. Analytical, frustrating, and always convinced she’s right.

She is tough… that girl. Un fuego.

I saw it when she sat in my chair and dug her nails into it, and I saw it when she dug her nails into me. I saw it when she pushed my hand away, straightened up and wiped those tears off her pretty face like they were nothing more than meaningless water on her skin. She turned her back on me. No one ever does. No one has ever not succumbed to my hand. And she’s lucky, I never offer comfort to any of the girls I yell at. No, they don’t need it. They’d accept it, regardless. Not her.

Un enigma.

Jessica sighs, turning from me and finally leaving me to be. Leaving me with no solutions, only loose ends. She must feel my eyes burning holes into her back. Frustrated fucking holes. She stops.

Carajo.

I sigh now, allowing my eyes to fall shut into the comfort of darkness. A place behind my lids where no Jessica Drew exists.

“There’s another gathering tonight, actually. Perfect way to win your people back before you even lose them.”

She’s smiling, she’s proud of her stupid little idea. I don’t need to open my eyes to see it. The ache in my neck makes my head fall into my palms— and though every part of me wants to tell her to get out?

“What time, Jessica?”

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @luvlylaurakisses @to-the-endoftheline @bimb00

[chantsdemarins]

This Year’s Enigmatic Plus One🪅🎉

Part 1: So Much for Talking...

Words: 2,574

Summary: Loki returns to your life after a 10-year absence. The moral of the story, some Loki’s turn into trees, and others drive Porsches and escape from the 9th century just to torment you.

Smut rating: Yes 🔥🔥🔥

Plot rating: There is a plot hidden in the weeds of ⭐️ smut.

Oh man, I can’t believe it has taken me so long to get back to writing! But I’m back! This story is silly 🙃 but it got me ready to write my next big story that should be arriving soon! I hope 🤞 it’s at least decent!! It might be rusty!

These folks might want to read! I am missing people I know. So please let me know if you want to be tagged in new projects.

@ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @thomase1 @mcufan72 @caffiend-queen @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbsblr @gigglingtiggerv2 @anukulee

@mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @sailorholly @lokisgoodgirl @shambelle97 @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @smolvenger @wheredafandomat @hiroyukinasukawa @meowmeow-motherfucker @latent-thoughts @buttercupcookies-blog @kingwwend @coldnique

“I’m hard underneath the table, just in case you wondered.”

He had sauntered into the café just barely two minutes before and this was one of the first things he could think to say. Loki’s innate smugness still took up too much of his face, you could barely see the handsome man behind the wide grin.

You were trying to maintain a façade-you weren’t going to give in so quickly.

Shifting your weight slightly in your chair, not to appear too eager or too unbothered. You were so cool-you could be the frost giant.

You scuttled your water glass closer, perhaps an instinct to grab something. Your eyes narrowed.

“I wasn’t wondering,” you took a sip, placing the glass back down with a dull clank.

You continued, “I guess no need to explain yourself or apologize first. No need to tell me where the hell you’ve been.” The litany of words flew faster out of your mouth the longer he kept smiling.

It had been 10 long years. Loki’s expression changed to slightly sheepish. Maybe he had been too bold. Too presumptive. He tried to back pedal a little.

“Dove, I can’t help it. Sorry if my expletives were jarring.”

“More like degrading.”

He couldn’t just wander back into your life like this. You had questions. You needed answers.

For example, you’d aged, he hadn’t. You were now in the throes of everything breaking and falling, loosening from the bones, readying for some easy mortal grave. Loki on the other hand was resplendent with eternal tightness and no doubt, hardness.

On the upside, you were much wiser. The sparkle in your belly from men like Loki was now your own fire. He wasn’t the only way the flame could ignite. Just a rather fast one.

But you knew he was not lying about being hard. So now your mind was glued to his inseam.  

Had you the presence of mind and the reach, you’d find your hand barely able to hold his cock. It was always too much and not enough.

You had known that on Earth we learned from our stupid mistakes, and Loki being some eternal ballerina didn’t necessarily have to. He could just dance away to another stage, another production.

Unless of course, something had occurred to change from the scorned prince you used to fuck and then regret. If he would just explain himself, maybe you could decide how quickly this was going to be over.

“Where have you been Loki?” You croaked out.

Not missing a beat, he continued. “You want to see?”  

“What? No Loki! Not here! We are in public!” Your face was turning three different shades of vermillion.

“Woman, no I don’t mean my impossibly hard cock, I mean do you want to see a picture of what I have been doing?”

“Shit.” You took a long drink of your water, so long in fact your glass was emptied.

“Thirsty?”

“No, no not really, I mean it’s fucking water, Loki you are supposed to drink it! Didn’t they have water on Asgard?”

You shouldn’t have mentioned Asgard.

You instantly regretted it but couldn’t find a way to apologize, you were too startled by him. It had taken three valiums, four episodes of 90 Day Fiancé, and two phone calls to your bestie between Monday and today to even say yes to possibly meeting him.

His body went from loose to more restricted, brushing a stray obsidian lock of hair behind his ear. He opened an old looking bag and pulled out a photograph. It was strange he didn’t have a phone or some other advanced technology.

Now that your eyes could focus, he did seem a little primitive, his outfit was simple, no fanfare, no announcing his royalty or his esteemed place in the cosmos.

“No cell phone?” you had to say it.

“No.”

“Okay, this must have something to do with where you’ve been.”

You looked down at the tabletop, Loki laid out a single picture. It was him wearing what looked like a knight’s armor.

“You are acting now?” you said with a giggle.

He laughed. At least he could still laugh.

“No pet. Not acting.”

“Why do you look like you might have been at King Arthur’s court?”

Loki’s impossibly blue eyes smiled along with him as he dared to explain more. “You are a smart one aren’t you. Close.”

“You traveled back in time?”

“Let’s just say I am Loki, but I am not exactly the Loki you remember.”

You looked closely at the picture. He better be able to explain why he had a camera in 800 CE. The horrible thing was-he looked fucking hot as a knight or whatever was going on.

“Intrigued. Continue please.”

“You’re apt to believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you Loki? You are a god and last I knew you had repented for almost blowing up New York City and then your ancestral home was completely destroyed. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what role you played in all of that. I had five years of therapy because I was fucking a being that might have destroyed an entire realm. Yeah, no biggie.”

You had devolved in your speech, covering more ground than the question of believing him. Your face grew hotter if that was possible.

“Well gods don’t do things small, you know that. If I recall correctly that is why you were ‘fucking’ me as you so crassly say. You like ‘big things’, or my ‘big things’.”

You were on the verge of crestfallen. This conversation was terse at best. Not going so well. You kept reloading arrows from your imaginary quiver.

“Fine, then I’ll send you my therapy bill if I ever figure out how you’d possibly pay it.”

“I’m insulted by the idea that I wouldn’t pay your ‘therapy’ bill, whatever that is.”

“Never mind,” you scoffed.

You took your eyes off him for a moment and in that nano second, he grabbed your tiny hands in his stupidly big ones.

“Darling, you asked where I have been, can I tell you.”

“Fine.”

“Great, but let’s leave this terrible café, the artwork is grinding my gears, as you Midgardians say.”

“Loki, I have to be back at 4:00 to catch the ferry,” you were trying to keep this punctual.

“I have a New Year’s Eve party I am invited to, I told you.”

“Oh yes, that silly thing.”

“It’s not silly!” you retorted.

“I guess for us timeless beings, another year is like a sneeze,” he smiled, his teeth almost fang-like in the light. Quickly, you both got up and left the café. You had pondered his frost giant form, and how his current Asgardian visage sometimes seemed almost transparent. It was like something of his true self could never really be hidden.

“What are you looking at?” Loki asked, noticing your gaze as he checked his reflection on a parked Tesla as you walked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“You saw something,” he insisted, his vanity apparent.

“I didn’t see anything, Loki. No red eyes, no blue skin, no lines on your face.”

“What? How dare you,” he grimaced.

“Okay, Loki, we can end this now—I’ll catch the 1:30,” you declared, testing him.

“I didn’t come all this way to fight,” Loki implored, reaching out with his enveloping presence. He was still all legs and arms. Today he resembled a surly black widow spider.

“Let’s not pretend we don’t want this,” Loki said, just before he slightly tripped on the sidewalk.

“Holy Fuck,” he exclaimed, barely saving himself and his drink from a spill. Clearly flustered he slowed his pace.

“I see you’re still agile,” you noted, and he shot you a glare back. Maybe it was better to be in a private place or at least somewhere with better artwork.

“Do you have a hotel or something, Loki?”

“I don’t, but I have this human car,” he replied, showing off the Porsche’s flash with a clicker.

“How did you fit in this thing? I thought you said gods liked big things, to match their um big things,” you teased.

Staying mad 0 points, being cheeky 100 points. You were failing. You looked at your Doc Martens and pretended to study the scuffs.

“Just get in, pet,” he urged, holding the door open for you.

“That’s interesting Loki, you never held the door for me before.”

“I didn’t?”

“No.”

Once inside, you inquired smugly, “Where would be we going? You came from somewhere?”

“We don’t have to go anywhere. We can just get warm and continue our conversation here,” he suggested, his grin widening once again.

“No…No…No…,” your thoughts raced, considering the implications.

“Are you saying you want to get warm? Like, turn on the heater warm?” you questioned, hoping for clarity.

“No.”

“Then what did you have in mind?” you pried.

“My lips can be warm,” he said, his voice persuasive Shakespeare.

Shit, again.

Just then he moved his head a touch to the left, the damn car was so small all it took was this movement and his indeed warm lips covered yours. Kissing Loki was always the beginning of something, never an isolated act. If he had been earlier to arrive, say at Christmas, you could have reenacted the “Baldur scenario” as he used to call it.

According to Loki, Baldur was some relative or something, accidently killed with a branch of mistletoe by him, apparently an honest mistake. Instead of having that terrible image seared into humanity’s memory he “changed” the story to have mistletoe be an excuse for kissing not killing. Leave it to Loki for creating something so inane.

Yet kissing him was one of life’s true pleasures. His mouth engulfed yours. 10 years apparently produces a lot of feeling. His hands raked through your hair holding your head as he continued to press himself deeper into you. The fire. It was burning.

Fuck all where he’d been. He could have been shacked up with Marjorie Taylor Green for all you cared. Okay, maybe you did care about that. He better not have been.

He slowed down, nipping your lower lip. Giving you just a second to slide your body on top of his. By now the windows were completely fogged, hopefully giving any onlookers a laugh and an impetus to hurry along. Your body just barely fit on his lap.

One of his long arms pushed his driver’s side seat back with a jolt, you had a little more room, but it mostly just landed you squarely on his now very clearly hard cock with a thud. Your moan was partly concealing what could have been tears. When he was inside you it felt like it was a short flight to your heart. You hated that fact even more now that you were matured.

“I thought you were being cautious,” he whispered into your ear, prompting you to snap out of it.

“I was.”

“Oh, I see. Just a bit of positioning from me, and all your reservations vanish. Converted so easily,” he observed, his breath warm against your skin.

“Not quite, Loki, but if you don’t... I can’t even...” Your words trailed off as you grappled with your thoughts.

“You won’t what?” he prodded, distancing himself slightly to unzip his pants.

“I won’t call you.”

“I don’t have a phone,” he chuckled lightly as he maneuvered his pants down, supporting you effortlessly with one arm. That cock he was bragging about earlier was making what would surely be its penultimate appearance.

You noticed the absence of his underwear and couldn’t resist commenting, “No underwear, huh? Prepared, are we? That’s unlike you, Loki. I thought you enjoyed the ritual of undressing.”

He glanced down with a feigned innocence, “I wear underwear?”

You paused, meeting his gaze, “Yes, you do.”

If you hadn’t been seconds from plunging down on top of him, you’d put these pieces together more carefully, used your journalism chops to understand these subtle changes. You studied him. He seemed slightly like a different version of himself.

It was like the way the wine snobs spoke about different versions of the same wine. Now it seemed like he was perhaps less oak and more peach. Chalkier minerality, less green apple. A glitch from the time apart perhaps? You wondered. Maybe you didn’t remember him like you thought you did?

Your introspection was halted when he fucked up into you with a velocity that brought your hands to the roof of the tiny car, trying feebly to steady yourself. Noticing your struggle, Loki grabbed your hips, moving them. Forcing you into the cadence of his pleasure for a moment until you could gather your wits and your strength. You were not some coy maiden for this space man to bed anymore. His eyes were closed, his fang teeth biting his lower lip, as if saying okay fine, have your way with me.

You could barely hear his whispers; they were just beyond audible. Something about the best...’something’ he’d ever felt, and to “ride him” like St. Michael’s horse. Whatever that meant.

Every single time he told you that you were the best, you believed him. That was the problem. You wondered if he’d even be able to pull out, there was no room in the minuscule Porsche, it had you pinned together permanently it seemed. If you got pregnant, you would blame Loki’s bougie taste.

“Loki,” you said his name with a shudder. Your bodies slowly going limp. You had come at least twice. You wondered if he had as well.

“Was that worth waiting 10 years for?” he asked, a smug satisfaction in his voice as he emerged from his trance. His own face slightly flushed.

Hopping off his lap with a wince, you wanted to answer him but couldn’t. It was worth it of course but you couldn’t tell him that.  

“Are you ready to talk now? Now that we got that out of the way?” he inquired.

“You still want to talk…what?” you asked, your disbelief evident.

This really wasn’t the Loki you remembered. You expertly wiped the condensation from the window, just like someone who always had sex in tiny sports cars, but a noticeably displeased official face appeared gazing back at you.

“Oh no, I guess we didn’t go unnoticed,” you muttered as you pointed to the officer.

“We better go,” Loki said, starting the car and clearing the window more with his scarf.

“Loki, I have my New Year’s Party. I can’t go with you!” you protested, trying to compose yourself.

“It’s either stay with me or talk to ‘Mr. Blue Coat’ there,” he presented the options with a hint of urgency.

“I would be the last person to make fun of blue things if I were you,” you shot back with a mix of frustration and humor.

He actually looked nervous. Maybe you were past giving him a hard time, maybe because he had just given you a really good hard time.

“Okay, fine, drive, but I better not be your hostage, if you still do that sort of thing,” you barely conceded.

“You made the correct choice,” Loki said with a breathy chuckle, the car pulling away swiftly seemingly ignoring your hostage reference.

“It was either join me or explain our...activities to the police. Not much of a hostage situation if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hostage to your whimsy, maybe.”

“And what about that picture?” you asked, motioning to the image of him in medieval armor now on the dashboard.

Loki glanced at the photo. “Ah, that’s what we need to talk about. Let's just say I’ve had some... historically significant adventures.”

“Historically significant, huh?” You leaned back, processing his words and their implication.

This car ride better "come" with some more answers...

To be continued!

[collisvng]

CHAPTER 1 | BADASS BALLERINAS

THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨

Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎

Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎

Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?

Warnings 🤎 Swearing, brief mentions of food, alluding to weight insecurities, and Han being weak as fuck (lol) 

Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨

Word Count 🤎 3,254 + 7 sm screenshots!

In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143

✨️MASTERLIST✨️

©collisvng (2023) — all rights reserved. reposts/modification of our work is not tolerated.

WHEN YOU ARRIVED AT THE DANCE HALL...

Minho was already at the barre. He was observing himself in the mirror, making sure each warm-up he did was fluid as he gripped the handrail to help steady himself. Plies, tendus, and degages expelled themselves from his body in the most graceful yet precise movements. 

He spared you a glance as you walked in—setting your bag and water bottle down near the entrance before you made your way across the floor. When your eyes met, you both acted estranged and looked away.

“You know for someone who hates mornings, you really do make the effort to be the first here.”

“I could say the same about you,” Minho stated as he brought himself into first position once again. “Although you always seem to get here after me. You must like being in second place.”

“Can’t be second place when I’m the class favorite,” you said, finally turning to face him. “Cute of you to think otherwise though.”

“Since when was this?”

“Since last semester when the instructor literally told me I was her favorite.”

“Hm,” he pursed his lips to the side. “I don’t recall that ever happening. And you don’t really have any proof either, sooo…”

His eyes never met yours and you smirked. 

It was always like this between you two. Since the day the two of you became friends, your constant bickering is what brought you closer. From class, to practice, to studying together… there was never peace. Everything was like a challenge, and you both loved it. It made it even more fun when the both of you broke character.

You sighed, walking away to the middle of the floor. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lino.”

Minho stared ahead—unresponsive. But the moment he wasn’t within your sight, a small smile tugged at his lips.

He finally decided to face you when your body slowly descended to the floor. 

“Not joining me at the barre for once?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“My lower back’s been killing me,” you groaned as you stuck both your legs out in front of you. With your arms reached out in the center of them, you practically clawed your upper body forward until your stomach touched the ground. The extension gave you a sense of relief. “It’s gonna be floor stretches for right now until the teacher comes, if I’m honest.”

A quick nod of approval was given to you before a playful, “good girl” left Minho’s lips. The word EW! left your mouth so quickly that it almost sounded like you were hearing yourself say it in the third person.

But you weren’t, because the voice you actually heard in third person was Hyunjin’s as he entered the dance hall with Felix.

“Can you not say stuff like that?” he glared at Minho, sitting down next to you. “You don’t have to flirt with everyone.”

A tiny laugh escaped your lips as you half-sat up, taking in the sight of Hyunjin and all its glory. White T-shirt disheveled as one side hung off his left shoulder, black tights hugging his legs, and messy black hair pulled partially into a small ponytail—you knew his tired look all too well. His eyes were barely open, and he had a slight grimace on his face.

“Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty,” you teased as you tousled his hair. “Felix must have had fun waking you up.”

“Oh, it was hell!” Felix’s voice echoed through the room. He set his bag next to yours, desperately rummaging through it to find something. You observed his outfit change into a white shirt and black tights, much like Hyunjin and Minho, suspecting that he must have switched out of his comfy clothes before making his way to class. “I literally had to recruit Seungmin to help me wake him up. Which, by the way, was the worst choice ever. He almost had me pay him five dollars in order to get him into Hyunjin’s room when I couldn’t get him up.”

He waddled his way over to you and Hyunjin, joining you both on the floor. He was holding a small, blue plastic container that was faintly see-through enough to see the brownies that were within it. 

“Now eat!” He stated, opening the lid to the container and practically sticking it under you and Hyunjin’s noses. “Because I know for a FACT neither of you have. And hurry up, I don’t want the instructor to yell at us for eating in the dance room again.”

As Hyunjin happily pulled a brownie out of the container and ate it, Felix ripped a piece off one and held it out to feed it to you while you were mid-stretch. You giggled a bit, leaning forward to take a bite but not fully being able to take the whole piece from his hand. He grinned from ear to ear, putting the rest of the small chunk you left behind in his mouth. 

He repeated the action; feeding you and eating the rest over and over. Eventually, even Minho took a piece of your roommate's chocolate masterpiece, saying his thanks to the “brownie boy” and giving Felix a short-lived head pat. It was all so soft and wholesome, it made you feel thankful.

You couldn’t imagine a better way to start the day than beside these three dorks who made you the happiest in the world.

Eventually, the dance hall began to fill up as it got closer to class time. You all made your way to your respective places at the barre, and Felix managed to sneak his tupperware back into his bag before the teacher arrived and could tell him to put it away. 

You gave a little wave to the boys from across the room while you stood next to Minho. As Hyunjin gave you a little salute and Felix waved back, you caught a glimpse of the class’s golden boy.

Alongside you and Lino, a guy by the name of Choi Yeonjun was known as the best dancer in class. He was precise, like Minho, but also had the agility of a feline and the determination of a bulldog. Everything he did was perfect, and if it wasn't he would have to find a way to fix it and make it perfect. 

It’s what made him such a great dance partner, which you would know since he was yours last semester. You were quite sad when your instructor broke you two apart this year, explaining that both your talents could be put to good use helping others in the class who needed a “bit of work” with their dancing. 

There was also an odd number of people in the class since someone never showed up on the first day of instruction; causing the teacher to practically plead to Yeonjun about the possibility of rotating between two partners—which he happily agreed to. 

Thus why Yeonjun stood at the other end of the room sandwiched between two girls, while your partner—

“I’m not late. I’m not late. I’m not late. I’m late— I mean I’m not— FUCK!” Han’s voice suddenly echoed in the distance as you heard the harsh sound of footsteps approaching. Words rambled out of our best friend's mouth as he pushed through the double doors of the dance hall gripping onto the penny board in his hand for dear life. “I am one hundred percent on time and totally did not accidentally hit like three people on my way over here!”

He put his bag next to yours and Felix’s before resting his board against the wall. He accidentally leaned it the wrong way though, wheels sliding down against the plastered wall causing the end of the board to slam into his ankle. He let out a small yelp then grumbled a swear as he flipped the skateboard over and placed it down correctly with the wheels pointed outward.

The class laughed at the ordeal, while you.. Well, let’s just say you’ve seen him do worse.

When he finally walked over in your direction, you sighed.

“A whole minute before class started,” you remarked. “Proud of you.”

Jisung rolled his eyes as he moved to stand behind you. “I told you I was gonna try to not be late anymore. I keep my promises, bitch.”

The teacher walked past, glaring at him as the swear left his lips. His deep brown eyes widened in fright, immediately bowing as he stammered out apology after apology. The instructor chuckled a bit and patted Han on the shoulder.

“Glad you could join us on time today, Jisung,” she teased.

You’ve never seen Han calm down so fast.

*•.¸♡¸.•*

The class went along like normal.

After basic warm-ups and barre training, the class shifted over— moving onto centre work, then across-the-floor exercises.

Eventually, the teacher clapped her hands together and instructed everyone to get into their assigned pairs. You and Jisung eyed one another deucedly, slowly approaching each other until your nose was about eye level with his chin. 

“You gonna drop me again?” You mumbled a bit sternly.

Jisung scoffed, a nervous eye roll followed. “Wouldn’t dream about it, princess.”

There was a bit of tension between the two of you, friendly and understanding but still there. With a raise of your brown, Han then slowly made his way around you, placing a hand on your waist as you prepared to lift yourself onto tip-toes.

Par de Deux was one of your favorite types of dance. It was one of the reasons you even decided to become a dance major, in fact. Most partnered dances in ballet were often symbolic of romantical stories or inherent partnerships of love. The women seeming light as a feather as the men danced with them through their acts of enamored virtue. Holding them up as if they were an ethereal cloud to be held.

Feeling a person’s weight and properly handling it was an essential part of Par de Deux. You were responsible for holding your placement. That is your job. Your partner is the one responsible for keeping you on your legs, making you look controlled and winsome— holding you in place, lifting you, and caressing your body like a beautiful flower.

Seeing something so beautiful became so intriguing, you trained to go on Pointe just to one day finally have a dance partner worthy of that partnership. Someone who could make you feel as light as a feather.

You had only experienced this euphoria with two people so far. Once with Minho when you both practiced together a year or two back and once with Yeonjun. Both men, despite their smaller frame, were actually quite strong and full of unswerving confidence.  But you could never be Minho’s partner though; the two of you bickered too much and were way too competitive with one another.

That's why you missed having Yeonjun as a partner. In your head, you were his feather.

And as much as you loved Han… He wasn’t necessarily the strongest.

Thus why after a few balancing exercises, when the instructor tested the waters and asked pairs to attempt a simple turn-around lift, you weren’t surprised when Jisung let go of you halfway through the turn.

You fell to the ground briefly as Han panicked and scrambled to pick you up. He managed to get you back on your feet in record time, but not fast enough for the teacher to not notice.

The music abruptly ended and the room fell silent. The loud sound of the instructor’s heels reverberated through the room hauntingly as she made her way over to where you and Jisung stood. Han’s eyes were facing the floor, his hands still on your waist as you stood flat-footed once again, cringing at the very thought of what was going to happen next.

When the teacher gave a disappointed sigh, you could feel Han’s grip on you tighten slightly.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her words came out more concerned than annoyed, which you were grateful for. “I thought pairing you with Y/N would be for the better, but I’m proven wrong each time I look over and spot her on the floor.”

No words came out of Han’s mouth as he stood there semi-ashamed. His eyes looked up briefly, pupils dilated with puppy-like sadness. He opened his mouth to say something—probably to apologize profusely—but was cut off by the sound of the dance hall door opening and closing.

Everyone’s heads snapped immediately in the direction of the sound, yours included.

At the entrance stood a man holding a piece of paper folded in half in one hand, while the other gripped the handles of a duffle bag that was slung around his shoulders. He wore a fitted black T-shirt paired with black joggers and black-framed glasses to match his ensemble. His shirt hugged his broad shoulders along with his chest—something you couldn’t quite take your eyes off of.

He was cute, and buff, and awkward… an adorable combo.

When the teacher greeted him and asked him why he had barged in unannounced, his hold on the paper faltered.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… um…” He took a deep breath, holding the paper out in front of him. “I was just told to bring this referral to you. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“A referral, hm?” The instructor said, looking over the paper that had been handed to her.

The boy nodded. 

“Coach Park said I needed a bit more cross-training to help balance out some things I need to improve on when it comes to the field. A friend of mine told me you had a spot open, so I went to the admin to get a referral for an add code,” he paused. “You know, if the spot is still open.”

“Coach Park? So you’re on the football team?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The teacher’s eyes hovered over him, then over to where you and Han stood. You could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“Han,” the teacher spoke, “go stand in the corner.”

Jisung’s eyes widened as a small, sad pout formed on his face.

“What?”

“You… Stand in the corner next to Regina… Now, please.”

Big boba pearls frosted over with sadness and confusion met your own eyes as Han complied with the teacher's instructions. He walked over to where Yeonjun stood, giving a small apology as he stood next to one of his partners. The guy in the doorway stood there awkwardly as he watched the whole ordeal.

Wasn’t long before he was picked on as well, though. 

When the instructor’s gaze landed on the stocky boy once again, she gave a simple statement asking him to stand next to you. As he did, you realized he wasn’t much taller than you. Not quite your height, not really as tall as Jisung was, but somewhere in between.

“Now pick her up.”

The words spewed out of the teacher's mouth without any hesitation.

A quick nod from the boy, followed by hands hovering around your waist ensued. You could feel the slight warmth from his breath against your neck as he stood behind you contemplating what to do next.

“Can I… Um…” his voice trailed off. “I mean, are you okay with me touching you?”

The sincerity of the question took you by surprise, bringing a bit of blush to your face as you bobbed your head in approval.

Within seconds you were picked up and lifted off your feet with ease. You remained stagnant in the air for a beat or two, feet high enough from the ground that you could almost kick them back and forth, before being placed back down. The fact that he was able to lift you without even so much as a second thought shocked and flustered you to the point of no return.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you glanced over to see Felix and Hyunjin snickering in their spots about your demeanor. You made sure to keep note of that for later.

It seemed that ordeal was enough for your instructor, as she agreed to let the man join your class as long as he agreed to be your new dance partner. Obviously, he said yes.

You could hear Han pout a bit in his little corner, whom of which you mouthed the words ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’ to and got a sad smile in return.

Class promptly ended soon after that.

As you, Minho, Hyunjin, and Han all grabbed your things, it became very obvious someone from your group was missing.

There he was, Mr. Lee Yongbook, giddily standing with Yeonjun as they both waited for the mystery man to get his add code. You had never seen either of them interact with the dude before, but when he went over and gave them both a hug it was obvious they were more than just acquaintances. 

When his little welcome party dispersed, you decided to finally make your way over to your new soon-to-be dance partner and properly introduce yourself.

All that came out of you though was a cringe-worthy wave and an awkward, “Hi.”

A big smile appeared on his face as he shifted from one foot to the other. Like before, you recognized he wasn’t much taller than you. But the inch difference matched with his muscles made it very easy for you to feel small.

“Hi,” he beamed, “so I guess you and I are partners now.”

“Yep,” you responded before promptly pointing in the direction behind you. “And.. you know Felix?”

“Yeah. He’s best friends with one of my close friends. Plus he’s the mascot so everyone on the team kinda knows him.”

“Right… Right.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, cool.”

“My name’s Changbin, by the way.”

He held out a hand for you to shake and you took it. After a moment or two, you both realized you had been holding hands for a little too long and let go. A laugh was shared in unison, as the strange tension that was created between the both of you lingered a bit. It was uncomfortable, but not in any way you had ever really felt before. 

It was exciting? … Maybe?

After agreeing to meet up over the next few days to help Changbin catch up on some things he missed in the class, he grabbed his duffel bag and headed off. You let him know how serious dance was for you, which he understood. He explained how he would typically have football practice right after ballet class was over, but promised he would always try to randevu before leaving. You thanked him for his reassurance.

You watched him exit through the dance hall entrance and simply stood there in an unwavering daze as you stared at his back muscles, remembering the events from earlier. He picked you up like it was nothing. He was polite. And, now that you had seen him face to face, he was actually pretty cute.

Perhaps you finally found someone who could make you feel like a feather after all.

DING!

Thanks to the abrupt texts Seungmin sent to your group chat, you finally snapped out of it.

Seungmin: bitches. Seungmin: in n out. now. Seungmin: advice column kicking my ass. Seungmin: need fuel. Seungmin: hang out with me.

“Oh so now he wants to love us,” Han pouted as he stared at his screen.

taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990

[swap-and-possessions]

Passed Out

“Morning, sir. Can you tell me why you have a man passed out on the back of your truck?” The domineering officer asked me.

“Oh, that’s just my brother. He didn’t return last night after a night at the bar. I caught him passed out on the street and was about to bring him home.” I replied. 

“I see. And you thought it was a good idea to transport your brother like that?”

“I tried getting him inside, but he was adamant that he sleeps at the back of the truck. And besides, our house was just a little ways from here.”

“Okay, I’m just going to need you to perform a field sobriety test. Just make sure you’re okay to drive.”

“Sure thing, officer. Just don't make me balance on one foot. I’m not exactly a ballerina.” 

The officer chuckled and asked you to perform the test. Aside from a little tussle and trip, I passed with flying colors. It’s astonishing how fast I can get used to new bodies now. The officer let me go with a warning to be more careful in the future.

“Thank you, officer. I appreciate the concern. And don’t worry. I won’t be transporting any more passed-out brothers on the back of my truck anytime soon.”

The officer laughed and wished me good luck before sending me on my way. When I was far enough, I laughed too. The officer didn’t know shit. The person at the back wasn’t my brother. That was my old body before I swapped with this total hottie. Once I’ve reached the nearest town, I’ll ditch my ‘brother’ and enjoy a local country twink with this overly excited dick. I pulled the waistband of my pants and let my erect dick stand as I sped through the road.

“I can’t fucking wait!” I said with my new deeper voice.

•·················•·················•

Read more shorts and stories at my Discord!

[murpyperpy]

Gojo x Sorcerer Reader PART ONE

Gojo is a slightly soft Yandere if that doesn’t float your boat turn back now. Reader is also a sorcerer I will not specify technique so you can imagine your own. :)

CW: Cussing

You hurdle and parkour through the roofed tiles coating the city’s infrastructure. The sharp long presence of you shadow dances in the night air swimming up scaling building falling on Gojos face as he looks up at you. You halt twisting and turning in the air before landing before him clothes fluttering as you gracefully and defensively stand. The streets are empty and peacefully silent, your full attention in on the man before you gazing at him through your lashes. He’s wearing a blindfold and beaming at you happily his stance is nonchalant with hands lazily strewn in his pockets.

“Stop looking at my like at y/n your gonna make me self conscious!” He says in his imitation of blushing bashfulness, tossing a hand at you.

You say nothing for a moment continue to stare.

“Your one to talk!” You fall into banter with him despite your reservations. Gojo is infamous as the most powerful of our generation you have never talked to him one on one before and were mildly surprised he remembers your name.

“Your scaring the shit outta me staring me down like that, I’m not in trouble am I?” You have been knowingly disobeying your authority to you Gojo is the personification of your doom.

“No, no of course not, I personal wanted to see you! I know you are so lucky!”

“Right…” you shift your back foot slightly away and you both immediately notice. You turn lightning fast. Your hair bobs and you break into a sprint. You high tail down the street zigzagging like a road runner.

“HEY!! I just wanted to talk!!” Gojo call after you playfully

“Okay good luck with that!” You scream almost laughing as you propelled yourself back up to the rooftops.

“Oh shit!” Gojo has to spring I to a run chase after you, as you pummel ahead like a jester and a ballerina all at once driving through the sky.

“Get back here or I’ll come get you!!” He yells but you already out of earshot.

PART ONE IF THIS GETS ANY TRACTION I WILL POST MORE. I WILL POST MORE REGARDLESS IF YOU LIKE IT MURPYERPY NEVER BACKS DOWN!!

[mercmorales]

The Job of a Ballerina! - 1

The soft taps of the pointe shoes she wore. The setting sun that glared through the windows. Her swift movements across the shiny wooden floor. Merry Go Round of Life played in the background as she did elegant and quick spins and jumps that matched the beat of the music.

She spun and spun until she eventually bumped into someone who had somehow entered the room quietly.

“Shit—” Y/N fell to the floor, feeling her ankle twist a bit.

“I didn’t know the second scholar was a dancer!” The person said, their voice sounding upbeat.

Y/N looked up to see a blonde boy with purple eyes looking down at her. His lips curving into a smile that would make any girl swoon at the sight.

Y/N sighed, “If you have nothing to say to me, you can leave.”

“I just wanted to see you dance, mademoiselle.” The blond boy winked at Y/N as he sent her a kiss.

Y/N stared at the boy for a second before speaking again. “Do not call me miss. I’m probably younger than you.”

The blond chuckled at the girl’s quick reaction. “You really are sassy! Perfect for the offer I’m about to give you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s this oh so great offer you have for me?” Y/N shook her head as she massaged her ankle.

The blond boy held a hand out to the girl, “Become the manager of the Ouran Host Club. I promise, it’ll be worth your time.”

Y/N stared up at the boy, letting her eyes wander across his features as his lips curved into a genuine smile. His purple eyes becoming brighter due to the setting sun shining through the large windows.

“Will you consider my offer, dame Y/N?” The blond asked again, making Y/N swallow a lump that had formed in her throat.

The music playing in the background made the moment all the more memorable. Y/N had taken the blond’s hand and stood up.

“I…” Y/N gulped. “I’ll think about it a bit more.”

The blond nodded and left the girl a bit stunned. Just who was the blond haired boy?

“Tamaki-senpai?” Haruhi had tapped on the boy’s shoulder as he daydreamed about a host club managed by Y/N.

Hikaru came up behind Haruhi. “Maybe he’s still a bit dazed from meeting the second imperial scholar.”

Kaoru came up next to his brother. “I wouldn’t be surprised. People say that she’s incredibly blunt and quick-witted.”

“Oh that makes sense.” Haruhi said as she let the twins’ words register in her head.

“THERE’S ANOTHER SCHOLAR?!?!?!”

Honey had shown Haruhi a picture of the lady of the hour, smiling as he did. “This is her! She’s one of the smartest people in her class and she does ballet! She’s amazing! Isn’t she, Mori?”

Mori nodded.

“She’s been approached by so many big shot Ballet companies cause when she dances, it’s like she draws people in. To have her here at the host club managing would be like getting a free performance everyday.” Kyoya said as he wrote down some notes in his notebook.

Haruhi looked back at Tamaki, who was still stuck in his trance. “She probably thought I was so cool… hehe.”

“Uh oh. It seems that daddy is still in his little trance.” Kaoru said as he came up behind Tamaki.

“I guess we have no other choice.” Hikaru shrugged and picked up a bucket of water along with his brother.

The twins dumped the two buckets of water at the same time, causing Tamaki to get wet.

“I guess that’s one way to cool him off.” Haruhi said with a shrug.

Tamaki sighed. “You guys should’ve watched her dance… she was so ethereal. She held my hand…”

“How about we all watch her dance tomorrow? Then, we can formally ask her about the managerial position.” Kyoya said with a smile.

“I don’t think she’ll agree just because we all ask.” Haruhi said, the other members of the host club dismissing her.

Honey jumped up and down repeatedly. “We can make her cake!”

“We can seduce her~” The twins said with sly smirks on their faces.

Tamaki’s thought bubble was popped by the words spoken. Seduce… the seducer?

“NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!” Tamaki slapped both brothers with the back of his hand, making them go flying into a flower display of roses.

Haruhi looked at Tamaki in surprise. “Tamaki-senpai!”

“I will not let you two taint such a majestic sight…” Tamaki had a dark aura surrounding him while his eyes were hidden by his bangs.

Kyoya heard the door of the host club open while everyone was focused on calming Tamaki down.

Then, he saw a girl enter the club with hesitation, as if she didn’t think she should’ve been there.

“I don’t think that seduction or cake will be needed,” Kyoya smirked as he adjusted his glasses. “Cause the woman of the hour came right to us.”

The rest of the host club members turned their attention to the entrance, noticing the girl fiddling with her fingers as she waited for someone to speak up.

Tamaki had dropped Kaoru, making him fall to the floor. “So you’ve decided to take my offer?”

Y/N sighed deeply. “I’ve.. decided to do a test run.”

“Splendid! You’ll be given a day-to-day schedule of all of our daily guests, and what themes we’ll have during each day you’re here.” Tamaki said as he held the girl’s shoulders.

Tamaki kept on rambling on and on about all the things Y/N will be doing as their “temporary” manager, all while the other members try to introduce themselves.

“You’ll also be—?” Tamaki was cut off by Y/N sliding the male’s arm off her shoulders and stepping in front of him.

Y/N pointed a finger at the blonde. “Let’s just set the record straight. I’m only here cause I wanna see how this gig will go. And you haven’t even told me your name yet!”

Tamaki stopped dead in his tracks.

“All the other members have gone out of their way to try and tell me their names, while you’ve been babbling about all my duties!”

Tamaki starts stuttering. “I-I didn’t—“

“It’s common curtesy to give your name to someone who you consider a guest.” Y/N huffed.

Y/N held out their hand to the blond. “My name is Y/N L/N! I am a scholar and a ballet dancer! What’s your name?”

Tamaki chuckled before placing his hand in the girl’s smaller one. “My name is Tamaki Suoh. And I am the king of this host club.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Tamaki…”

Property of Mercury Indou! Repost anywhere and I’ll kill ya!

[artzychic27]

For the Actor AU, how did they feel abt the canon heroes' outfits? If they could, how would they have modified them?

Marinette: Basic as fuck! It looks like I’m wearing footie pajamas! If I were in charge of my costume, I’d give myself a full-on punk look because Ladybug’s are some badass motherfuckers. Oh, and boots that have soles equipped with a shock-absorbing cushion, and a heel that contains a reinforced spring to soften the shock whenever I land. And… Maybe a backpack shaped like ladybug wings to hold my Lucky Charms and anything I need to collect for my plan.

Adrien: Less leather! That stuff shrinks, and a full leather bodysuit is not comfortable. Also, because of the cat holders’ powers, it would be cool if heroes had some sort of medical supplies on them just in case, like stored in a utility belt. And I’m with Mari, those boots sound badass. What else?… Oh, definitely add some more color instead of just basic black.

Alya: Well, the Fox doesn’t seem like a combative hero due to the powers. I see Rena Rouge as a distraction, really, so her outfit wouldn’t be one of those “ready for battle” types. Here’s what I’m thinking, one of those noir-film type outfits. The hat covers my face a bit to give me an air of mystery, and the outfit would look almost casual that no villain would suspect me.

Nino: I mean… Carapace’s look is cool. It’s alright. I’m liking the goggles, but… I’d prefer if he had armor. He’s the fucking turtle hero! He should be ready to take any blow that a villain sends his way!

Rose: Where to begin? Look, you all know me; I love pink more than the next guy, but… Sometimes too much is too much. The Pig Miraculous strikes me as… More farmhand than ballerina. Yee, I know, the heroes come with a tambourine, but come on! While I do love the skirt, I’d trade it in for overalls, either shorts or a skirt. Oh, and add some black in there, too. Daizzi has a black circle around his eye, let him be represented!

Juleka: Studded jacket. That is all.

Luka: Oh, honey, either give me a hood so I can look like a cobra or get the fuck away from me with that outfit.

Myléne: The mouse strikes me as more of the elegant type, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the pastel pink mixed with the grey, but I see Polymouse wearing skirts over Pigella. But, that’s just my opinion.

Ivan: Honestly, I’m fine with the canon design for Minotaurox. Yeah, he’s got pockets and padding, I-I like it. And if you show me a better design, I’ll happily take a look at it.

Marc: … I think all of the effort went into making Rooster Bold’s costume. He’s got rooster hair, the little tallons on the back of his boots, and a fucking tailcoat! He and Mayura are the only ones to have tailcoats! I’m not complaining, though. I… I actually like it, but it is a nightmare putting on and taking off that wig.

Nathaniel: Well, I can say I sort of know how some of the girls feel, because that suit was tight as hell! You could see my hip dip! Also, I would’ve liked to have a different hairstyle and maybe some color, because I am the only male redhead around for miles. Oh, and climbing boots becuase, I’m a goat, duh.

Alix: … Do I need to say it? Okay, give me some active wear! I’m traveling through a shit ton of different timelines! I need someone sporty and active when I’m on the go. Also, I’ll need a backpack like Marinette.

Kim: Not hearing any complaints from me! I liked Roi Singe, but being Scarlet Beetle is way cooler!

Max: The glasses can easily come off. What I need is a high collar or a bandana that can cover the lower half of my face in case my glasses become askew or someone is able to place my identity because all I have on my face are some stupid glasses! God, I’m so glad I’m doing this new show now.

Chloé: Oh, I just want wings.

Zoé: Same.

Sabrina: Can mine just not look like my clothes, please?! I’ll take whatever, just not that!

Kagami: I would prefer if I had some form of armor and not a spandex bodysuit. It would need to be lightweight but also durable to allow me to travel faster, of course.

[tranquilpetrichor]

nutcracker nerves

synopsis: before you can put on a great nutcracker show, you need to shake off your impending nerves.

cast: ballet dancer!choi san x ballerina!reader

genre: dancer!au, fluff, some comfort

wc: 432

warnings: descriptions of pre-show nervousness

notes: woah, don’t usually use present tense but wanted to try something different. i was gonna publish this before the year ended but i literally came back from our family trip yesterday LOL whoops. enjoy this tiny little thing that totally did not come from me being a dancer...

taglist: @restlessmaknae

despite how warm it was backstage with all the bodies, you could feel chills running up and down your body.

oh god oh god 15 minutes until the show starts, oh god oh god.

this is what happens close to showtime—stage fright plagues you and you find yourself having to make sure your brain doesn't shut off completely.

"ahh, i hate this stupid headpiece." the clip-on bow that you had to wear for the party scene was annoying and could potentially ruin your bun. you want to banish the bow from your wardrobe, but the dress it matches with flows beautifully, so you can’t complain that much.

next, you go to the designated quick-change rack, making sure that all of your costumes are there. all 5 of them are present, but you're not satisfied with their arrangement, so you start moving things around in a frantic yet orderly manner.

someone taps you on the shoulder, and you jump a little, until you realize it’s only your boyfriend wearing the nutcracker head. you’re mildly embarrassed now. "hi, wh—oh my god. don't do that, san, you scared the shit out of me."

he laughs and pats you on the head. “sorry.”

you glare at him, then hit him softly. “you don’t look sorry to me.”

he sets the nutcracker head aside. “aw, i’m hurt that you don’t believe me.”

“i really don’t.” you start shaking your wrists. “but i don’t have time to get payback for you hitting me because i’m hella nervous right now and the show’s gonna start soon.”

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

with a grin, san joins you. “can’t miss out on our little ritual.”

you laugh, trying to ease your nerves.

after sufficiently shaking out your arms and legs, he pulls you into a hug and rests his hands on your shoulders. “i know we don’t have much time, but you’re gonna do great, y/n. you always have. just remember i have your back. fighting!”

since you two were going to be too busy to talk during the upcoming performance, it was good to exchange words of encouragement now.

“ah, that’s my nutcracker prince. you got this too, fighting!” you reply back.

“and i promise i won’t scare you again today.”

you pout. “you’d better not.”

adrenaline running, you check the time on a nearby clock. “oh i should really get into position. see you later, sannie!”

he waves. “see you on stage, princess.”

and although your nerves are still there, you feel better knowing that you’ll get to share the stage with your favorite person.