#ballerina reader

[nottsangel]

I imagine Military!Theo being fine around blood —I mean he is in military ofc he is totally fine— but the minute he sees ballerina!reader’s bloodied feet from practice he loses his shit. Mostly because she’s the most precious person in his life and can’t stand seeing her injured at the slightest, but also the fact that she’s concerningly unbothered by her injuries.

YES !!!!!!!! he’s totally desensitised when it comes to blood— he’s seen too much for it to affect him at this point. but when you come home with your poor feet bleeding and bruised? he loses it. not letting you take another step, he effortlessly lifts you up bridal style, and places you over on his lap, inspecting your injured feet. his soldier instincts kick in—calm, focused, and authoritative—as he takes care of your feet by gently wrapping them in bandages before pressing soft kisses to the aching skin. “be careful, okay? don’t like seeing you get hurt...” he mutters, even though he’s covered in scars himself.

[zweigsangel]

ballerina!reader who can’t stop giggling while making out with hockeyplayer!chris.

you’re perched on his lap, your soft pink bedspread crinkling beneath you. the walls of your room are painted a pale blush, ballet posters hanging in neat frames, pointe shoes resting in the corner, everything soft and girlish. his hockey jacket is thrown haphazardly onto the floor, a stark contrast to the dainty decor of your room. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently as his lips press against yours, feeling the roughness of his hands on your waist, but you can’t stop the little giggles bubbling up in you chest.

he feels it, the sound of your laugh muffled beneath his lips, the smile pressed against him. his lips move slowly, trailing open, wet kisses along your jawline. "what’s so funny, angel?" he murmurs, voice low, his breath hot against your skin.

you lowered your gaze, meeting his eyes. his lips, slightly parted, trembled as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. the corner of your mouth twitched into a smile. "i don’t know," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "your lips... they make me laugh."

his expression softened, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his mouth. "ah, really?" he asked as he lifted his head. his lips barely grazed yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands moved slowly to his cheeks, fingertips tracing the shape of his jaw as if memorizing every line. "mhm," you hummed softly in response.

a moment of silence stretched between you, your gazes locked. then, without warning, he shifted, flipping your positions in one swift movement. a gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change, and the bed creaked softly beneath the weight of your bodies. before you could fully process it, his hands were everywhere—on your hips, gliding over your arms, tracing your thighs—touching every spot where you were most ticklish.

his lips followed the path of his hands, brushing against your neck, your nose, cheeks, and chin, leaving a trail of warmth wherever they landed. your laughter erupted uncontrollably, filling the room as you squirmed beneath him, trying in vain to wriggle free. he didn’t stop, though, a playful grin tugging at his lips. he loved the sound of your laughter, the way it lit up the space around you, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hear it forever.

[misstycloud]

[Yandere.Rich man x ballerina reader]

(I don’t actually know much about ballet so forgive me if things are incorrect!)

—————

Rich. Yandere who was pestered by his friend and his wife to join them at the opera house and enjoy a performance. The couple had asked him numerous times before but he’d always declined. He was a workaholic and didn’t have any other commitments, so there was no need to break his routine. Although he would never admit it to anyone- he barely does to himself- he often find himself imagining a different life; one where he had a wife to welcome him home every evening. Perhaps a few children too. There was no sound besides himself and the staff in his home, it would be so very nice to hear the noise of running feet and happy chatter echo through the empty halls.

Rich. Yandere who is lonely above all else. His family is dead and he has next to no friends- the only one he has is married and devote all his time to keep him company. He knows that he doesn’t have the best track-record of being the kindest person in the world, and he might not be the friendliest or the most out-going, still, doesn’t he deserve some love too?

Rich. Yandere who eventually give into his friends demand and goes with them to the opera. As they took their seats- the expensive and best ones, of course- his friends wife babble on about her favourite dancer. They were regulars there and had seen many performances. He simply sighed and leaned back into his seat, waiting for the show to begin. He could only hope that it’ll be somewhat enjoyable since he doesn’t like wasting his time.

Rich. Yandere who was prepared for it to be a dreadful 3 hours, rubbing his eyes and suffering from lack of blood-flow in his legs. Oh how wrong he was. Instantly his gaze zoomed into you as soon as you stepped forward from behind the curtain. You were so beautiful and you moved your body gracefully to the music. It was magical. While he knew close to nothing about ballet, he knew that the point of it were for the women to look like they’re floating, and it’s exactly what you were doing.

Rich. Yandere who is instantly enamoured with you. As someone who’s never felt love this was all a brand new experience for him. He asked his friend and his wife if they knew who you were, since they frequent the opera so much. And turns out the wife did know who you were; you were her favourite after all. Rich. Yandere was never close with her or particularly liked her even, but he had to give it to her: she has excellent taste in performers.

Rich. Yandere who starts looking up information regarding you. It’s be your name, age, background, family, where you went to school and where you live. Everything. He also begins donating a lot of money to the opera house. In a short amount of time he’s become their nr.1 funder. The managers and owners are ecstatic at the news! They ask why he’s so generous and he simply answers that he loves culture and thinks it’s important it doesn’t disappear. Then, they wonder if there is anything they can do for him return, to which he smiles in response.

“Well, I do suppose there is one dancer I would be delighted to meet in person.”

Rich. Yandere who you feel uncomfortable around. He is so strange. You were just a normal ballerina, a dancer, no better or worse than anyone before your time. That’s why you can’t fathom the interest this wealthy man has taken in you. You two came form completely different worlds! But what can you do when your bosses not-so-gently urge you to see this man alone? You dont have any other skills and can’t apply to another job if you get fired.

Rich. Yandere who is determined to make you fall for him the way he has fallen for you. He’ll take care of you, love you and protect you. You don’t have to worry about a thing. He will do anything for his love.

“Don’t be scared, just keep on dancing, my little dancer.”

[femmeroll]

please could you write sevika dating a ballerina reader??? it can be headcanons (nsfwplss) or a short fic or whatever you like, thank uuu 🩷

i adore this!! thank u for the request my lovely ♡

sevika x ballerina!reader

cw: smut & fluff, hyperfemme reader, butch sevika, oral (r!receiving)

when sevika meets you, it’s like something out of a cheesy rom-com. it’s the middle of a cold, grey winter, and there you are at the bus stop. hair in a tight bun, legs adorned with light pink tights, and a frilly leotard to match. your zip-up jacket doesn’t conceal you at all from the bitter weather.

the second sevika sees you, she starts unzipping her heavy winter coat. the temperature was piercing, but she didn’t care. there was a cute ballerina freezing to death right next to her!

“hey…would you wanna borrow this? it’s way too cold for a light jacket like that, don’t want you to get sick or something.”

and the second you see sevika, light blush on her face with a hand outstretched to offer her jacket, a thousand lightening bolts shock your heart. you don’t yet know who this incredibly kind a wickedly handsome person is, but you know in your gut that you will find out.

you get sevika’s number so that you can ‘meet up’ to give her the coat back.

sevika asks you out after texting back and forth for a few days. she invites you to a cute cafe in town, one of those pretty ones that are covered in plants and vintage art.

you bring her coat to return it, but she insists that you keep it.

she pays for your drink and your pastry without hesitation. sevika is fidgeting with her sleeves the whole time. acting all shy as if she’s some high schooler who’s about to hold hands with a girl for the first time.

the two of you spend a whole afternoon getting to know each other. you learn all about her mechanic job and her two dogs and how she really likes doing crossword puzzles. she learns about how you’re a professional ballerina and you spend all your time at the dance studio.

sevika is so smitten it’s unreal. and when she sees you wearing her jacket when your ready to leave, she knows its game over. her heart can’t take it.

dating sevika is a literal dream. she’ll take you to every rehearsal and be in the front row of every single performance.

after every performance she greets you with a bouquet of flowers and the proudest smile plastered on that handsome face of hers.

“you were amazing as always, baby. i was cheering your name so loud at the end! did you hear?”

sevika will rub your sore feet after you’ve been in point shoes all day. every dancer knows just how fucked up your feet can get from those things. she’ll help you soak them in a salt bath and raise them up while she gently massages the pain away. she’s always gentle with you.

sevika prefers date nights at home. her perfect evening with you includes cooking you dinner, eating with you in the living room while watching a movie, and splitting you open in bed.

on the topic of the bedroom…

the first time having sex with sevika is after dance rehearsal. you come to her apartment exhausted and stressed about an upcoming performance.

while you’re trying to rant to your girlfriend, she gets a little distracted. every inch of your gorgeous body is on display in your tight leotard. and the way your legs are clothed in those sexy tights…she wants to eat you alive.

“…and the choreographer was being ridiculous. my feet were sickled for maybe half a second and-”

“can i help you relax?” sevika interrupts.

she gently grabs your hips with a smirk, peeling the straps of your leotard down.

“so worked up, aren’t you babe? let me make you feel better, please.”

sevika frees you from your tight dance clothes and nearly moans at the sight of your body. bare and needy, and it’s all for her. she gently lays you down on her bed, kisses trailing from your lips and throat to your stomach and thighs.

she licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, warm tongue sending shockwaves through your veins. she groans at the taste, greedily lapping at your pussy. she can’t get enough of the sweetness of you. and your cunt is nearly drooling over the way she eats you like you’re her last meal.

“god, you taste so damn good,” she growls into you, eyes dark as she pushes her tongue inside you. her nose rubs on your clit with every movement.

you’ve never cum so quickly in your entire life. watching her eat your pussy like a woman starved, the feeling of her hot tongue, her nose on your most sensitive bundle of nerves. it’s no wonder your eyes are rolling back into your skull after only a few minutes.

you clench around her tongue, whimpering out her name as she works you through your orgasm. once you start squirming from overstimulation, she comes up to kiss you.

“that make you feel better, baby?”

[bella-goths-wife]

What is the nicest thing the Bowers gang has done to ballerina reader?

The nicest things yandere bowers gang have done for ballerina reader

Warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation, violence, sexual abuse, mental illness (unspecified), stick and poke tattooing, pregnancy mentions, self harm, eating disorders

I do not In any way intend to glamourise or romanticise any of the themes mentioned. I write about them purely for entertainment and educational purposes. Please do not see these actions as normalised and seek to replicate the actions or relationships

Henry:

Henry does care about you, in his own sick and twisted way

But he does care about you and in his own way he does love you

He lets it show in the rarest of ways, and only on special occasions

And while he’s an abusive and selfish bastard, he’s also observant to a T

He notices small things about you that he’d never repeat to anyone that he noticed

He notices what your favourite flavour of something is or what your favourite song is when he looks in your eyes and notices them dilate

He may be the one who knows you the most because of how insnared he is in your life

And he will always notice when something is wrong with you, except from the usual reasons

You’re spending longer hours at the ballet studio, even when he warns you and punished you multiple times for it

But you even offered for them to come with you to the ballet studio and watch you if that’s they needed to do

You allowed them into your sanctuary, something you had fought against so vehemently before

You claimed that you had to keep going, that you had to be perfect

Henry assumed that you’d just gone into one of your moods, so he humoured you and spent time in the ballet studio with you instead of forcing you home

He watched as you forced yourself through dances, he watched you sweat and pant and work through your part so aggressively that you were coming off as more of a mad queen then a graceful swan

He watched in curiosity as your feet bled, your legs twisted, your back contorted and your bones creaked like an old cellar door

Blood leaked out of your ballet shoes and caused droplets to gather on the floor beneath you as you pirouetted through the pain

Henry decided it was time to call it quits when he called to you but you ignored him, something you never did as you continue to dance even after he turned off the music

Henry called again and again before walking towards you and grabbing your arms firmly but you fought back desperately, surprising Henry with the wild look in your eyes

Your usually dead eyes and crushed spirit were alive but not in a way that signified life but in a way that showed forced reincarnation

Henry shook you and demanded you to stop but you just screamed and cried that you couldn’t

You hysterically ranted that you had to be perfect, you had to be better than everyone, you had to be the best

You cried over how a girl who had recently moved to Derry had outshined you in your classes, it didn’t matter in your head that she was years older than you, you had always been the best and you can’t be replaced

Ballet was the only thing you had control over, the only thing you held power in by being the best there is, the only escape from the torment of the bowers gang and their cruel antics

And someone had taken over your sanctuary

Henry, confused on how to comfort you, just held you until you had cried yourself into exhaustion

He took you to your home and cared for the wounds on your body as you laid there half asleep, just like you had done for him so many times

He left you to sleep as he thought about what to do next

He couldn’t have you continuing on this path, you’d self destruct before he’d even have a chance for his plans of marrying you and popping out kids

He couldn’t have a mad woman for a wife, he needed his pretty little ballerina back to dance when he turned the music box key

He stalked the girl you had talked about for a few days before finding a good opportunity

He decided it was time to call the other boys, knowing he’d need their help

He ambushed her dressed in a black Halloween mask before tying her to a tree

He grabbed a sledgehammer from belch’s care and brought it down harshly on the girls ankles and knees, ensuring she’d never dance again

He left the girl tied up and he and the bowers gang decided that whatever happens to the girl happens, none of them would lose sleep over it

That night he crawled into your bed with your asleep figure, moving your head to lay on his chest as he caressed your face with a gentleness that was foreign to him

He decided he wouldn’t tell you when he noticed how your spirit had improved since the girl had stopped dancing, knowing the information would only make you believe in silly notions of guilt

And he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he did it for himself and not for you

That’s what he told himself anyway

Vic criss:

Vic had punished you pretty badly one time, he had given you burns up your thigh that had sent you to the doctor for pain killers

This small ‘hiccup’ has made it so you couldn’t dance for two weeks, a prospect that made you sob in the hospital bed and refuse to eat for two days

And that’s when vic noticed that he had unfairly punished, he assumed you had snuck out alone but Patrick later revealed that he had taken you out for the night

That realisation had filled vic with an unfamiliar sense of guilt and remorse as he looked at your sunken in features and the bandages around your thigh

He volunteered to be the one to take care of you after the doctor visit, knowing being on the pain medication would leave you out of it most of the time

He helped you bathe, forced you to eat and drink, helped you change bandages and entertained you with a unique gentleness you hadn’t felt in a while

But even that didn’t stop the constant worried looks you’d give him, wouldn’t stop the fear that you held for him

He wasn’t used to being the most feared, that spot usually reserved for Henry or Patrick, he was used to being one of the ‘better’ ones who you’d reach to to avoid spending time with the ‘worse’ ones

He begged your drugged up state for forgiveness and the state had made you honest as you spewed venom about him never feeling the pain he inflicted on you

That gave victor an idea

He sat you down in your medicated state down beside him one day and showed you his tools

He had confided in you that he had a fear of needles ever since he was a child, but that he wanted to repay you for the pain he caused

He wanted you to stick and poke a tattoo of your choosing onto his shoulder, and he would sit still, endure the pain and never tell the others who had done it to ensure you never received a punishment

Your drugged up mind didn’t even hesitate at a chance to hurt your abuser, picking up the tools you needed

Five long hours victor sat still as a statue and endured his fear and pain while you worked on his shoulder before you finally finished

You had passed out pretty much instantly as you laid back on the couch and victor didn’t have time to look at his newest tattoo before shoving his shirt on and helping you to bed

Part of him even secretly hoped it would become infected so he could show you how much pain he’d endure for your forgiveness

Once you were in bed, victor removed his shirt and readied himself for whatever was on his body forever

He expected something crude or something humiliation but to his surprise he found when he lifted his shirt, a small swan

A darkened thought entered his mind at the sight of it

You had marked him just like he’d marked you

The dark part of Victor liked that

Patrick hockstetter:

Patrick loved your body

Well, loved is a loose term when it comes to a psychopath

A more suitable description would be that your body sexually satisfied Patrick greatly

You had the perfect figure in Patrick’s eyes

And when that figure started changing, it upset Patrick greatly

One of the workers at the ballet studio had made a few crude comments on your figure, and that had sent you into a frenzy

It was a pattern you had followed since you were small, someone makes a comment and your do anything in your power to make it untrue

Someone claims your too big, you’ll do anything to show them your not

Your methods however were extreme to a worrying extent

You wouldn’t eat for days and when you did youd throw it all up or use laxatives to make sure you couldn’t gain anything from it

It had caused extreme changes to your body, your once healthy figure had become malnourished

A change that Patrick did not like, finding you much less attractive

As I’ve stated multiple times, Patrick’s obsession is rooted to his sexual attraction to you and it angers him greatly when someone changes you

You were his plaything and if you weren’t pretty anymore, well that just looks bad for him

He sat with you every mealtime for weeks and forced the food down your throat but he recognised he could only do so much, the minute he stopped youd go back to your destructive ways

So Patrick decided that he’d get rid of the root of the problem

Disposing of a body was easy to him and the others by now, digging a shallow grave in the junkyard for the nameless worker of the ballet studio who had insulted you

Without the insults present you eventually started to eat properly again with ‘encouragement’ from the boys and slowly you gained your figure back

This pleased Patrick greatly and he made sure to make you repay him for his act of kindness, despite never telling you what you were repaying him for

Even Patrick’s acts of kindness revolved because of his selfish desires

What did you expect?

Belch Huggins:

Belch had always been the sweetest to you, always treating you gently unless commanded otherwise

That’s why you had felt comfortable enough to confide in him that you had done something very bad

You had hurt someone, very badly

A girl from your school who had harassed you daily whenever the boys weren’t around you

She had followed you on your trek down to the lake, calling you all sorts of names and pushing you around

As if you didn’t face enough abuse in your life, she added to it with her cruelty and something snapped in you

She had gotten in your face, eerily similar to how Henry had many times

When she had gone to grab you, it brought back memories of Henry’s abuse and fear filled your body

In an act of fight or flight, you had given her a firm push

She had fallen down the hill and hit her head on a rock, laying unconscious as you stared in horror

You had called belch in a frenzy, rambling on about what you had done and how much trouble it would get you in, there’s no one who would let a criminal be a ballerina

Belch drove to you immediately and held you once he saw you, listening to your explanation of what happened

He checked the girls pulse and found out she was still alive, and in that moment he made a decision

He couldn’t have you going away, his little ballerina who had such high hopes for her future wouldn’t survive in a juvenile facility, they’d eat you alive without a second thought

Him on the other hand? He was built to survive with his large build and strength, and who would the police believe is more likely to have committed a crime

A pretty little ballerina with no previous record, or the big brute with many accusations and charged on his record?

He commanded you to go home and gave you a final kiss on the forehead before sending you off

He ran to the pay phone and called for an ambulance who took the girl off to hospital, and when the police questioned him on who did it he admitted false guilt to spare you the blame

The girl had a slight concussion and her memory of the crime was distorted, so she couldn’t deny his presence which was enough for him to be arrested

His father found him a good lawyer with his copious amount of money and the lawyer managed to get belch away with only three month of juvie and six months probation

He went down for your crimes and he did it happily

When the other boys asked him why he did it, he simply told them that the girl had pushed him too far and shot you a look

He came out of juvie just fine and fit into his routine quite happily when he saw you at his side again

He never told anyone about what really happened, not even the others

He knew they would blame you for his temporary imprisonment but why should they? You were his goddess, why shouldn’t he make sure no one could besmirch your name and defend your honour

He kept your secret happily as he held you close to him in your bed

What’s one more secret between him and his goddess?

Thoughts? :)

[cheeseatlantic]

yabadabadoooooo

!serialkillerghost x !ballerinareader

cws: graphic depictions of violence, severed body parts, protective/obsessive behaviour, dark themes (stalking, revenge) and mentions of blood and injury

Soft Hands, Sharp Teeth

The apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, the only sound your soft, unsteady breathing. The day had been long, exhausting in a way you couldn’t quite name, but it wasn’t the dancing that had left you drained—it was him.

Your dance partner.

His hands had been too much, too firm, fingers brushing where they shouldn’t. A lingering touch on your waist, an unwelcome slide of his palm against your ribs. You hadn’t said anything, too stunned, too unsure if you were overreacting. But the sick feeling in your stomach told you otherwise.

You sniffled, toeing off your ballet flats, and it was then that you noticed him.

Simon sat on the couch, one arm draped over the back, his large frame relaxed in the dim glow of the lamp. His mask was off, but the black compression shirt stretched over his broad chest, his military dog tags resting against the fabric. He was watching you, eyes sharp, assessing.

“Rough day, birdie?” His voice was low, smooth, always laced with that warmth he reserved just for you.

Your lip wobbled.

That was all it took.

He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the space between you, his hands coming up to cup your face. His palms were rough, calloused, but his touch was so gentle. Like he thought you might break.

“Tell me.”

Your fingers curled into his sleeves, seeking comfort. “It’s stupid,” you mumbled.

His brows drew together. “Not if it upset you.”

You swallowed, looking down. “My dance partner�� I didn’t like how he touched me.”

Silence.

It stretched long enough that you finally glanced up at him, only to find his expression completely blank. No anger, no frustration—just nothing.

“Where?” His voice was too calm.

You hesitated, then lifted a hand, touching your waist. “Here. And… here.” You traced a spot over your ribs. “I don’t think he meant anything by it, but—”

“You don’t have to defend him.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin. “You didn’t like it. That’s enough.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding. Simon had always made you feel safe, even if you didn’t fully understand why. He was a soldier, a protector—your protector.

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “You’re tired,” he murmured. “Go to bed, yeah?”

“But—”

“Shh.” His lips quirked, something almost amused in his expression. “That’s an order, little ballerina.”

You huffed but let him lead you to bed, tucking you beneath the soft covers. He sat beside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, waiting until your breathing evened out.

You didn’t hear him leave.

SIMON’S POV

It wasn’t hard to find the bastard.

He was a predictable little shit—smug, unassuming, the type of man who thought he was untouchable because no one had ever given him a reason to believe otherwise. Simon followed him from the studio, let him drink with his mates at the bar, let him laugh like he hadn’t laid hands on her.

Then he cornered him in the alley behind the building.

The man barely had time to react before Simon shoved him up against the damp brick, gloved fingers pressing against his windpipe just enough to scare. Not enough to kill.

Yet.

“You like putting your hands where they don’t belong?” His voice was smooth, almost amused.

The man choked, grasping at Simon’s wrist. “W-what the fuck—”

Simon didn’t let him finish. He slammed his head back against the wall with a satisfying crack and watched as the fight drained out of him.

“You don’t touch her.” His voice dropped lower, dangerous. “Not her waist. Not her ribs. Not her fucking shadow. You understand?”

The man whimpered, nodding weakly.

Simon smiled. “Good.”

Then he pulled the knife.

The screams didn’t last long.

A soft knock at your door roused you from sleep. You stretched, blinking blearily as you padded across the apartment. Outside, resting on the doorstep, was a pristine white box, wrapped in a delicate pink ribbon.

Your lips curled into a sleepy smile. Simon always gave you little gifts—things he thought you’d like, trinkets and sweets, small tokens of affection. You carried the box inside, settling at the table as you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in layers of delicate white tissue paper, were two severed hands.

Familiar hands.

Hands that forced themselves onto you.

Your stomach twisted, a sharp inhale catching in your throat, but before you could process it, a note slipped free from the tissue, fluttering onto the table.

Won’t be touching you again, birdie.

Your heartbeat pounded against your ribs.

You should have screamed. You should have been horrified.

Instead, warmth crept up your neck, something dark curling low in your belly. Because deep down, beneath all the innocence, all the softness—

You knew exactly who had left you this gift.

And you knew he was only protecting what was his.

[jaysgirlx]

I think I NEED a some head canons about about Jason Todd meeting his lovely girlfriend at one of Bruces annoying get together at the opera where an ballet piece plays as entertainment, just with the slight specialty that she’s the ballerina

Btw love your work <3

Jason Todd Gala Meet Cute Headcanons

— To be frank, Jason Todd hates galas but when Dick doesn't want to go alone or when he wants to support Bruce or Cass he'll be there. Family is Family.

— When he first sees you his jaw nearly drops because he's never seen anybody as stunning as you. As graceful as a swan, you glide across the stage with ethereal elegance. Each movement is a dance of precision and passion, your body a canvas painting a story of love and longing. Jason Tood was now indeed a lovesick boy.

— You've got the poor boy hooked, watching you like you're his last meal. Even Dick could see, that you caught Jason's eye. At the end of your performance, you took a bow and you looked right over at him and smiled.

— He wasn't sure if that had really been meant for him but that didn't stop him from blushing a bit. So he's nearly on the floor begging Bruce for your name or to at least introduce him and he agrees just so Jason would calm down.

— Bruce invites you to join the rest of the gala if you're interested, since his son was very fond of your performance, "Oh is he the one with the little white strip in his hair? he's quite cute isn't he?".

—Dick's grinning ear to ear, watching his brother stare at you from across the room, while guides you to one of the private bathrooms. He'd never seen Jason so whipped for a girl who he didn't even know.

— Once you finally finished changing, you found yourself drinking a glass of red wine, standing in the corner alone. You usually don't come to events like these but since you were personally invited by Bruce Wayne you saw no reason not to.

— When Jason spots you from across the room, he debates on waiting for Bruce to introduce the two of you but just says fuck it and goes for it.

— "I didn't know ballerinas, came to galas like these, there's not much fun doll," he asks putting his hand out for yours. You hesitate but place yours on top of his, allowing him to kiss the back of your hand. "Only when pretty boys like you request for us," you say giggling, and now for sure you're fucked. Jason Todd wasn't just cute, he was hot.

— He butters you up by asking your favorite composer, "Well I've never performed any of his music but I'm quite the fan of Vivaldi" you say while he leans against the wall next to you. He asks the questions and lets you do most of the talking since he'd prefer to listen to you. By the end of the night, there was nothing Jason didn't know about you but it seemed like you hadn't gotten to know him.

— He had spent the whole night flirting with you and buttering you up and you're not even surprised when he asks to walk you out, "Why not but only on one condition, you have to take me out on a date and let me get to know you this time" and Jason had no objections to that.

— Now you've got the Jason Todd following behind you, people are whispering and watching the two of you. How'd you manage to pull one of Bruce Wayne's sons, especially the standoffish one? You weren't even his girlfriend yet and people couldn't stop talking about you and exactly what Jason wanted, well at least before he made you his.

[djljpanda]

Hey can you please do some headcanons for Asmodeus, Fizzaroli, and a ballerina fem partner??

Asmodeus X Fizzaroli X Fem Ballerina Reader

(Tw: Some suggestive stuff)

They always have front row seats or have a private booth to watch you perform

They threw roses on the stage at the end of the performance while they cheer, whistle, maybe even cry

Have flowers and any sweet treat you want while they hug you and praise you, may even give you more praise when you three get home

Never misses a performance cause they will move their schedule around cause how dare they think other things are more important than you

Simping in their seats when they see you on stage and might take some pictures

They do ask questions and your always happy to answer them

You have tried teaching how to ballet and not gonna lie they are performers so they got the hang of it

They like when your in your stretching poses cause one it gets them horny and two your really good at your stretches they even asked you to teach them

Love seeing you practice they have videos and photos on their phones

Now they always hate seeing the pain you give yourself because of ballet, the faces the two made when they say how battered your feet looked

But they always have some pain killers, bandages for you so you can feel better

In a weird way you all three like listening to classical music even if you guys are listening to jazz and pop in that sex playlist or just a regular playlist you can hear that classical music coming on

In the end they support you no matter what and to them you are the best balllerina in the world

[knyontop]

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Made a moodboard of one of my favorite series by @bella-goths-wife :3!

Yandere!bowers gang x ballerina!reader

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[darkovergrownforestnymph]

I want a Jason Todd x Ballerina fic SOOOO BADDDD. Like I need it. here me out

You are a new dancer at Gotham Ballet so you’re in corp. His eyes are on you. He loves ballet and follows the story but if you’re on stage he will find you no matter what.

He’d be there for you when you move to soloist and he’s so proud of you. He’d take you to your favorite book store to celebrate and eat sushi ( or whatever food you want).

This man may be busy every night but somehow during nutcracker season every night you dance he will be there with flowers after. Like how does he do it.

If you’re in muscle pain he has all the thing. Any and all muscle pain cream, he has the messagers, the rollers, lacrosse balls ( they slay at rolling out muscles like get them NOW!).

He will stretch with you, and first he wasn’t good at it, now he wants to be better than Dick. Like whip out a needle one day in front of him.

Have a break after performances and you get bored. No Worries! Teach Jason ballet!! It’s so silly and fun.

If you feel bad about yourself and your dancing. He’s gonna make you stop immediately. Makes you watch old dance videos and new ones (He’s always recording you dance he loves it!!!) to see how far you’ve come and how much you keep improving. He thinks you’re gonna be a principle and he believes in you enough for the both you of.

Batfam meets you the show you become a principle. It’s announced at the end of the closing show of the season. Dude he looked like when a dad’s football team scores a point. He stood up and screamed ( YEAHHHH THATS MY GIRLLL!!!). Bruce gave him a lil look but he doesn’t care. He had a feeling so he got you the biggest bouquet with little gifts hidden inside. He was so happy for you and now you had to meet Bruce Wayne… sweaty… it’s okay. They were astonished how long you guys have been dating like how’d he do it and why. Jason shrugs and takes you home.

Overall, this man would be so good for a ballerina ( ME) and pleaseeeeee

I think i’m just gonna write it myself.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

the swan and her princess (part 1)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of the Swan Princess, Odette.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader

word count: 842

warnings: uses of Y/N, lots of ballet terms and references, the teacher displaying blatant favouritism ig?, mildly petty reader 💀

a/n: I finally got around to doing it! yay :D academic rivals to lovers ftw honestly

gearing up for my first official chapter-based fanfic WHOOOOOOOOO

dividers by me btw! it’s my first time doing dividers so any feedback would be appreciated <3

part 1 // part 2 (pending)

glossary:

Swan Lake: Swan Lake, Op. 20, is a ballet composed by Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky in 1875–76. It is now one of the most popular ballets of all time. The ballet is based on a German fairy tale, and tells the story of a prince named Siegfried who falls in love with Odette, a princess who has been turned into a swan by an evil sorcerer

Odette: Odette is the main female protagonist in the ballet "Swan Lake," which is composed by Pyotr Tchaikovsky. She is the White Swan, also known as the Swan Princess/Swan Queen.

Anna Pavlova: Anna Pavlovna Pavlova was a Russian prima ballerina of the late 19th and the early 20th centuries. She was a principal artist of the Imperial Russian Ballet and the Ballets Russes of Sergei Diaghilev. (basically, every ballerina’s idol)

first position: In the first position, the heels are together, with toes turned out until the feet are in a large, open V or a straight line.

relevé: Relevé is a French term meaning "raised up." It is one of the basic ballet moves. The dancer starts in a demi-plié (a move where the dancer bends their knees halfway while keeping their feet on the ground) and then rises up into demi-pointe (on the balls of the feet) or en pointe (on the toes), either on one foot or both feet.

“Let’s take it from the top, Y/N. More turned out this time. And your ‘wings’ aren’t flowy enough. You are the very Swan Princess, not a struggling cygnet. You die gracefully.”

You blew air threw your nose a little more forcefully than you usually would, trying your best to follow your ballet teacher’s instructions.

“Ah, Gwendolyn! So nice of you to join us.”

That statement was usually used sarcastically in most settings. So why did your teacher’s voice take on a note of adoration? You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, not even looking at the new arrival. All she ever did was drop into class half an hour late - without even doing her hair in a proper bun - and get showered with praises for everything she did. Always Gwen this, Gwen that. You were so sick of it.

“Gwen, if you decide to try out, you would be a perfect fit for the White Swan,” Your teacher eagerly told her, and your ‘flowy feathers’ tightened into fists. Just brilliant. In her eyes, you had no chance at Odette, did you? Once again, Gwendolyn Stacy would swoop in and snatch up something you had worked so hard for, spending hours upon hours on late nights at the studio practising alone, all because the teacher thought she was the next Anna Pavlova. But every time, you bit your tongue and kept your head down. One day, you would show them. You would show them all how good you were. And little Gwendolyn Stacy, the number one teacher’s pet, would watch and weep.

You cleared your throat to jolt your teacher out of her rambling. “Miss? My audition?”

She blinked as if she were just noticing you. “Ah, right. Yes, you may continue.”

You were ready to hurl your pointe shoes at both of their annoying faces, but you focused on making yourself extra turned out and extra graceful. Oh, how the tables would turn when you got this role.

You risked a glance out of the corner of your eye and noticed with a smug satisfaction that Gwen was staring at you, eyes wide. Completely enthralled.

Ha-ha, Gwendolyn Stacy. Look upon actual, hard-earned talent and despair.

You finished the Dying Swan - the Swan Lake piece you were doing for your audition - and bowed, standing in first position with your head held high.

“Thank you, Y/N. That was very nice. Everyone, let’s get started. Get your shoes on and get into your positions at the barre, please.”

Ugh, the barre positions. Your arch-nemesis, apart from a certain Gwen Stacy. Well, maybe not apart from her, since your barre position was right in front of her.

“One, two, three, four - hold, two, three four…”

You tuned out the voice of your ballet teacher; the exercise was purely muscle memory to you by now, and her voice was only distracting you at the moment.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You were pulled out of your intense focus by the voice behind you. Once you realised who it was, you had to resist the urge to scoff. “What is it?”

“I, uh… I just wanted to say that you did amazing. It was very graceful. You’ll make a good White Swan.” That almost made you lose your balance in a relevé and twist your ankle, because what?

Gwen Stacy thought that you’d get the role?

Oh. That was new.

Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just imagining the whole ‘undeserving slacker’ thing and painting her as the bad guy…?

You almost giggled at that. Nah. This was definitely some ploy to get you to relax a little, to stop practising almost obsessively. Yeah, she was just trying to ensure you weren’t a threat. The moment you let down your guard, she would snatch up the role of Odette. You just knew it. Well, she could try all she wanted; you would not make it easy for her.

“Oh, I know,” You replied coolly, ending the exercise with everyone else and turning to offer her a politely bored smile. “But thank you.”

Gwen’s smile dropped a little and her eyebrows scrunched together slightly, her piercings glinting in the studio’s warm light. “Okay, well… I’ll see you around, I guess.”

She reached down and grabbed her duffel bag, unceremoniously dropping her teal pointe shoes into the mess of clothes and who knows what else she kept in it.

You kept your eyes on her until she disappeared out the studio’s door after a quick goodbye to the teacher. She was like a ghost, always appearing and flickering out just as quickly as one. And somehow always getting away with it, every single time. Not to mention… she was also somehow really good. Despite missing classes and coming late.

“Remember, class. Now that I’ve seen all your auditions, the roles will be up next week. Don’t be late,” your teacher called as you all left the building.

You kissed your teeth in annoyance. Yeah, don’t be late. Unless you’re Gwen Stacy.

Good grief, that girl would be the death of you.

Taglist: (reply to be added!)

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099

[zweigsangel]

hockeyplayer!chris x ballerina!reader texts suggestive content!

[pricescancerstickk]

Dom! Possessive! Graves x Ballerina! Reader,

It was very clear that Graves was a no-nonsense and a very strict commander when he leads the PMC. A hard-ass and resilient. He had a very tough exterior and proved in situations he did have the upper hands and would show and assert his dominance whenever given that opportunity, in his town there had been a new ballet studio that opened up, And he was happy seeing you. His girlfriend all giddy and excited to go join, also eager and sweet, seeing the way your eyes twinkled with excitement when you babbled to him about wanting to go. Why would he ever say no?

“Come on, Again sweetheart,” Just him using pet names was already a bad sing, He’d never gone much further in his career outside of just being a mere ballet instructor, your instructor. The fact you were so naive gave him a false sense of security that he wouldn’t face the consequences most men would if he made a move on you. And he succeeded. His breath was heavy as his hands moved under your dress, You chewed your lip. Feeling uncomfortable by what he was doing, His hands moved to your hips under the dress, feeling your skin, “Can we get back to practice now?’ You asked quietly. Very clearly uncomfortable by the way this perv was touching you.

His voice was demanding as he looked down at you “Y/n, why don’t you come to my room for a extra little tut session, hm?”, You tried to protest as he pinned your body against the nearest wall. His fingers slipping to the elastic of your underwear before he got sent flying to the ground. With a loud thud, Screaming again when your wrist got yanked, getting dragged to the parking lot. Throwing into a passenger seat of the car.

“Do you not understand that you belong to me?” Graves asked Ina threatening tone, His grip on the steering wheel very tight. A vein bulged in his forehead, seeing the look on your face, Fear, Anxiety, Almost obedience. “M’sorry,” He knew you apologizing without being in the wrong was common. But he was still mad. He parked by the house, Regaining his composure, sighing lightly. “Get out the car’ he muttered, you stepped out, pointee shoes clicking onto the stone side walk. Walking inside his home

Dinner time was very silent though, not the usual talking and laughing, only silverware clanking and the sound of the faucet running as you washed your hands. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, seeing the mascara you had on stained (if you don’t wear makeup just say your face is really puffy. Either way,), wiping it off gently. Still traumatized by what happened. Graves entered the bathroom without knocking. His arm going around your waist. Pressing his lips to your ear. “Dinners ready, Darlin’” he whispered quietly. Still feeling bad about what happened to you. He led you over to the dining table. You held onto his pointer finger. A bit afraid remembering how his fist connected to the man’s face though…

He ate silently but occasionally his eyes darted towards your figure. Seeing you pushing the food around. Playing with it and zoning out rather and actually eating. “Darlin..Do I have to feed you or are you gonna eat?” He said quietly. His eyes soft but stern. “Come on baby, eat up” He urged you gently as his hand took yours, lightly taking your fork. Stabbing it into a piece of food and holding it near your mouth. “M’not hungry, Phil” He looked even sterner now, but soft, he gently moved it a bit closer. Your stomach growling gave it away. When you ate it he felt relived as you took the fork. Eating now. “If your ever in trouble don’t you keep it away from me. If something like this happens again you come straight to me. Understood?” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, You lightly nodded

“M’kay…”

[mercmorales]

Ballerina Manger! 🩰

When the esteemed ballerina scholar is approached by the members of the host club to become their manager, how could she resist their pleas as they followed her around school all the time?

Chapter 1: The Job of a Ballerina!

Chapter 2: The Reintroduction of an Old Friend!

 mercuryindou | do not repost

[djljpanda]

Imagine Pomni falling in love with a music box / porcelain doll ballerina

Ballerina who is very calm and collective who wants to see her anxious jester happy.

And Pomni likes to hold your hand.

(Do want to write this fix out in the future as I do like my idea here)

[bunnysnared]

fuck it, mods asleep. post the forbidden ocship. the ghostdoves ♥