Tumgik
#dancer!au
abiiors · 3 months
Note
have you come up with an idea for the dancer au??? cause i was thinking (would it be a matty fic?? or did i hallucinate that) smth like single dad! matty x dance instructor reader?? like matty’s kid starts begging him to do ballet so he signs them up for lessons and reader is the teacher for that class… idk how long it would be or if it would be multiple installments but i’m thinking there could be a part where maybe matty is late to pick up his kid and he sees reader putting on a little show so as to entertain the kid until he gets there??? and it makes him all soft!!! and then from that moment he starts to see reader differently??
and/or there could be a like a daddy/daughter dance where the dads come to dance w their kids??? but matty’s nervous he’s going to embarrass his child, even though it’s not a super serious event, he still wants to do well, so he asks reader for some private lessons and maybe that’s when they fuck start to bond!!!! that daddy/daughter dance idea comes from this tiktok i saw
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT87kpQRj/
idk if those ideas fit the vibe you’re aiming for but i thought they were cute n had to share!!! okay now i gotta go think about matty picking his small kid up and spinning them and cry - 🫧🫧🫧
this is SUCH a sweet idea omg!!! and yes, it's going to be a matty au but i do think this idea is quite similar to the teacher au by my sweet friend ace (@ughgoaway) besides, their dad matty x teacher reader au is a 1000 times better than anything i could write haha.
i do have a few ideas and none of them are as wholesome as this 😭 but i honestly do think i wanna experience writing something a bit darker/kinkier haha
thank you for such a lovely idea though <33
7 notes · View notes
tiredwriter2003 · 2 months
Text
Halloween Dancers
I had an idea, I'll probably write it properly later but for now I'm getting it out of my head. I was reading a post a out Dash being a talkshow host and leading to them outing Amity and this came to mind.
A cousin of a citizen of Amity heard all about all the crazy stuff going down, they keep them updated in their weekly phone calls, but thought they were making it up. Eventually divolves into an argument and they decide to look to prove them wrong. And find the internet oddly sanitised, which makes them look deeper. Eventually they get others involved wondering tf is going on over in Illinois. They manage to break through but mess up, instead boosting the signal so much that the halloween livestreams take over a large chunk of American media. T.v. s, computers, phones, etc all playing the phantom streams, where someone sees phantom just chilling and starts streaming. this time it's Samhain and the place is eerie. Blue tinged fog covers the place, it's dark out, no living person in sight and the camera pointed to the sky. In the sky you see glowing figures dancing to music coming from nowhere. An ageless youth in regal clothes spinning his partner, white hair drifing like he's underwater, his partner dressed like the pharohs of old spinning alongside him. A woman dressed in victorian ballgowns joining their dance. Other etheral beings coming out of the woodwork, spinning in the sky alongside their king. The dead dancing in the starlit sky as the veil becomes thin enough they can all come through with no major issues. And this haunting scene taking over every screen within the signals range. As the hours go by the sun begins to rise and the fog fades. they bow and begin to fade back into the realms, leaving the original three waltzing in the sunrise as the stars fade before leaving themselves and the stream cuts off.
Turns out their cousin wasn't lying, wierd stuff is going on in Amity, and no one, including the JL, knew about it. Someones head was going to rule for the lack of info. This stunk of a coverup.
527 notes · View notes
moreslendermales · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media
Federico Roveta photographed by Jordan Ferreira
456 notes · View notes
deklo · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
BALLET!ANDREIL YEAAHHHHHHHHHHHH
Tumblr media
bonus/refs below :)
BONUS: might revisit this guy in the future i don’t love how it’s turning out but i did work on it for a while hehe
Tumblr media
OTHER BONUS: dance class andreil :) andrew is a mess :)
Tumblr media
REFERENCES:
solo neil was all references from @/_angelogreco_ on instagram
solo andrew was all references from @/julienmackay on instagram
duo ref: intimate lens studio, dancers - taylor bradshaw/vinicius vasconcelos
Tumblr media
cute lil chibi ref:
Tumblr media
muah ♡
860 notes · View notes
dummy-dot-exe · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
by 美少年@aihcnim
623 notes · View notes
redbullgirly · 3 months
Text
The Dancer [FA14 smau]
Fernando Alonoso x dancer!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Few months after, everybody laughs when they remember the rumors about Fernando Alonso and Taylor Swift dating. Would they laugh though if they new it maybe wasn't so far from truth as it may seem? Well, one thing's for sure - Y/N and Fernando will laugh very much while soft launching their relationship... and confusing everyone with swiftie content thanks to her job.
Warnings: Maybe wrong dates and timeline of The Eras Tour, but whatever XD.
messages between Y/N and Fernando
Tumblr media
fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by alex_albon, zhouguanyu24, pierregasly and 562,109 others
fernandoalo_oficial I was taken by the view like we were in Paris... romance is not dead.
view all 4001 comments
user1 i dont think my brain can comprehend so many things all at once😨
user2 right? I'M IN SHOCK
user3 fr fernando wants to give us a heart attack😭
lilymhe I see what you did here...
alex_albon I indeed see what he did here too...😏
user4 guys tell us what he did pls I'm begging youuuu
user5 Alonso soft launching was not on my 2024 bingo card
user6 him soft launching with TAYLOR SWIFT wasn't on MY bingo card 😭
user7 How he's suddenly so hot in the first pic? Like damn sir okay🫢
user8 girlfriend effect is real y'all
georgerussell63 Mate you can't do that to me, I just woke up 😧
user8 lmfao princess georgie is as confused as we are xd
fernandoalo_oficial sorry mate, don't get wrinkles🤞
gerogerussell63 What even is that choice of emoji?
fernandoalo_oficial well, someone is original with an emoji and someone is original with a pose... choice is yours 😃
georgerussell63 Stop it's been almost a year 😭
user9 not them bullying each other💀
user10 Yeah the duo we didn't know we needed
user11 I saw the first picture and almost spat out my drink in shock of such a hot photo of Nando. Then I swiped and literally choked on it because the last think I'd ever expect from his photo dump is a soft lunch of some baddie girl🫣
user12 I am delusional for thinking Taylonso could still have a chance, aren't I?
user13 well i mean you basically answered it yourself so... yeah XD
user14 OMG WHAAAAAAT😱
user15 oh no Fernando is not single anymore💔
user16 I think I accidentally teleported into some alternative universe... what is thiiiis?
user17 REAL
user18 fuck me this man seriously used lyrics from paris by ts💀
user19 Idk why but I kinda like this new side of Fernando😻
twitter
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername posted on instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by taylorswift, fernandoalo_oficial, carmenmmundt and 5,234 others
tagged: taylorswift and 9 others
yourusername crazy performance, even crazier night out and the most crazy training the day after... I call that the life of a dancer😻🎉 also my head and heart did go vroom vroom after the second pic
view all 218 comments
taylorswift I call that the eras tour life!💗
yourusername yes ma'am!
user1 damn she got our queen Taylor replying to her posts... how does it feel to live my dream?!😭
yourusername amazing! 🥰
user2 such a shame my mum didn't force me to try dancing when I was little... I could have been at podium next to Taylor Swift right now 😃
liked by the author
user3 You are such a good dancer, the shows wouldn't be the same without you Y/N!
yourusername omg thank u sm I really appreciate that!!🥹
user4 sooo... are we gonna just ignore Fernando in the likes or what???
user5 THAT'S WHAT I CAME HERE TO SAY
user6 fr I need some crazy detective from twitter to figure this out😫
carmenmmundt Hey, could you give me and lilymhe vip tickets...?
yourusername I mean... everything can be done 😏 I'll just need to ask mother Taylor bc I just used my plus one at the last concert🫡
lilymhe OH MY GOD WE LOVE YOU Y/N
yourusername I love you girls as well, we have to finally meet sometimes!!!
carmenmmundt Yeah, I think we'll have chance at the end of February at the latest😉
user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE
user8 Omg are they hinting Y/N at the Bahrain GP?? F1 season starts at the end of February right?!
goergerussell63 Well hello there, nice to meet you Y/N... given the fact my dear girlfriend doesn't care about me, could you give me and alex_albon vip tickets as well?😊
alex_albon Yeah Y/N we are very big fans😊
yourusername everything for the guys that go vroom vroom🫡
alex_albon Like your heart
yourusername exactly!
user9 I AM FREAKING OUT
user9 MY BRAIN HURTS FROM HOW MUCH IS GOING ON
user9 WAIT FUCK I THINK I GOT IT
user9 AAAHHH I FEEL LIKE SHERLOCK MF HOLMES
twitter & messages between Y/N and Fernando
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername posted on instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by selenagomez, fernandoalo_oficial, francisca.cgomes, astonmartinf1 and 8,234 others
yourusername preparing for the next season🤞
view all 1,029 comments
user1 y/n is literally living my dream life rn
georgerussell63 Oh no... he infected you with that emoji, didn't he?
yourusername we'll never know... maybe I infected HIM with it
gourgerussell63 I think higher of you and your taste in emojis
yourusername aww thanks princess georgie how sweet🥰
georgerussell63 I take it back
user2 HELLO?! what is happening💀
dancer1 excuse me little miss y/n... is that a man i'm seeing?🤨
yourusername well... maybe
dancer2 Be fr she's trying to soft launch him for like a month now😭
dancer1 okay i'm calling you rn STAY WHERE YOU ARE
user3 Guys why's nobody talking about the paddock pass in the 5th picture!!!!
user4 omg that's a PADDOCK PASS?😱
user5 yeah it is I noticed it thanks to this comment
user6 Wait... does that mean her and Fernando have been together longer? Because she already went to a race before the winter break??
user5 idk girl we don't even know for sure she's really dating him😓
user6 idgaf about who's dating her bc even without bf y/n's sooo hot like damn... mommy🥵
user7 I'm so confused... is this Alonso's girl or not?
user8 trust me user7 - we'd all like to know that😭
user9 😍
yourusername and fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram stories
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername story has been seen by taylorswift, lance_stroll and 13,634 others
fernandoalo_oficial story has been seen by charles_leclerc, astonmartinf1 and 308,003 others
user1 replied to yourusername story: is that an f1 driver there y/n
dancer1 replied to yourusername story: Hope he'll not disappoint me in person when you talked about him sm 😒
yourusername ohhh trust me you'll love him just as I do🥰
dancer1 omg bleeeeh I hope not 🫣
user2 replied to yourusername story: your friends are so pretty😩
taylorswift replied to yourusername story: When you'll take him to get my approval??
yourusername soon taylor, soon... I'm just afraid it'll break the internet lol
taylorswift I think we're used to that already with Travis at this point😂
yourusername true😭
fernandoalo_official replied to yourusername story: 🔥
yourusername it's going to be okay, they'll love you 🫶
fernandoalo_oficial how did you know I was nervous amor?
yourusername I saw you literally shaking when you left to the bathroom love...😹
yourusername oh they're back come quickly!!💞
fernandoalo_oficial onmw
user3 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE NEEDED?!
user4 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I see what you're doing here old man 👀
user5 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: soft launch slowly turning into a hard launch and I'm here for it!!!!
dancer1 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: I guess you aren't that bad in person...
fernandoalo_oficial 😁
user6 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: screaming crying throwing up
taylorswift replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: You better treat my best dancer right Alonso!🤍
fernandoalo_oficial of course ma'am! 🫡
user7 replied to fernandoalo_oficial story: So cute!!😍
messages between Y/N and Fernando
Tumblr media Tumblr media
fernandoalo_oficial posted on instagram
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, f1, yourusername and 601,239 others
tagged: yourusername
fernandoalo_oficial All these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret... #swiftie
view all 6,022 comments
yourusername I'd just like to make it clear to everybody that it's me who made him be swiftie... you're welcome💋
liked by the author
user1 OMG THE LYRICS FROM PEACE BY TAYLOR
carmenmmundt Y/N is so pretty!😍
yourusername ohh carmen ilysm you're even prettier🥹
user2 No way Fernando just really har launched his gf😭
f1 We smell a new wag!
user4 LOL you're kinda late for that admin xd
user5 Congrats and wish you well world champ!💪
user6 can we talk about how gorgeous she is???
lilymhe double date when honey?
yourusername anytime babeee!!!
fernandoalo_oficial why do I have a feeling me and alex_albon will be third-wheeling on you two?🤨
alex_albon you'll eventually get used to third-wheeling your own girlfriend and her friends, trust me fernando...🤠
user7 This girl is like a goddess, I can't even blame him ❤️🔥
user8 mommy & daddy
georgerussell63 Finally! Congratulation on the hard launch mate👍
fernandoalo_oficial and look who's original with emojis now...😂
user9 from now on this is my fav couple
user10 mine to
user11 SHUT UP THE DELULU GIRLIES ON TWITTER WERE RIGHT
lance_stroll 💚💚
user12 nah I don't know what he see in her🙄
user13 Go away we don't want the jealous haters here 🥱
kellypiquet Welcome to the F1 family yourusername!🤍
yourusername thx!💞
user14 i call this couple goals
user15 I'M SO READY FOR BOYFRIEND MATERIAL ALONSO
user16 I can already feel he'll be so hot in his new era 😩
user17 lmao nando in his swiftie and stlutty era as someone on twitter said😹
yourusername swiftie and slutty era? i like the sound of it😏
user16 not y/n reading all the comments sipping over her bf 💀
liked by yourusername
THE END
Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you liked it! I'm not sure you should get used to me posting so often, but let's say that after Lance's social media au and the great feedback I had so much motivation... plus I'm sick, so I actually have the time to write and create XD. Anyway, I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblog and every other way of showing support! Have a great day and let me know how you liked Nando and swiftie dancer together!
480 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 4 months
Note
Need ballet konig to grab my fucking tutu and ravage me, absolutely end me, I need him so carnally it is I N S A N E.
Bent over with his big hands around your waist, your tutu bouncing with each hard thrust of his hips. He keeps mumbling about how sweet you are to let a beast like him fuck you, how a pretty little ballerina like you should know better than to let a man cut open your costume just to bully his thick cock into you. He's so rough with you, you'd almost think he likes feeling the stiff tulle and silk hitting his chest and thighs. You can't do anything but hold onto your ankles like he told you, letting him use you like a toy. His cock hits you deep, achingly deep, and with the angle you could almost believe he's punching the air out of you with every thrust. He stretches you out so good, the little burn of friction and the low grunts of pleasure from him make you clench, just to feel the drag of each vein along your gummy walls.
You should know better than to tease him, walking around in your little costume, your legs on display, your neck bare and waiting to be bitten. One little slice of the fabric between your legs and he could do whatever he wanted. He'll catch hell from the costumer later, but for now he buries his cock into your warm, wet, cunt and enjoys how tight you are. It's a good angle for him, really makes him have to bully his way into your pussy to get every inch inside, and you get to cry all that pretty makeup off your face with how good it feels to be used like the flesh light you are.
408 notes · View notes
fastcardotmp3 · 1 month
Text
welcome to dot drops something that's been sitting in her tumblr drafts for 4 months Saturday I hope you enjoy your visit mwah! Steddie; Ballet AU; Dancer!Steve; mentions of cancer treatment; 1.5k words
Dress rehearsal is supposed to be a mess.
That's the point of it, really, to get all the mistakes out of your system and start the actual show run with a clean slate. Or at least, that had been the point of which they'd all convinced themselves when Steve was the one performing.
Bad dress meant good show, or so the old adage went, and so at least there was some ease of worry with the collective understanding that it won't happen on the night within the company.
That was the case when Steve was a student, when he was an apprentice, even during his time in the big leagues at Joffrey, but right now? At the end of a truly abysmal dress in this run-down theater on the edge of a town from which he'd once run away?
Steve is not the performer. He's the guy in charge.
And so he spirals.
He'd never wanted to be a director or an instructor or the head of a studio like this. It had never been in his plans. Steve was a man of action, where the people who do these jobs are the brains behind the operation.
Steve knows how to work hard, how to force his body and even his mind into submission until he gets the steps just right, but this? These past six months back in Hawkins temporarily helping out?
(God, please let it be temporary.)
He's not built for this. He's sitting center stage after everyone has left with only half the house lights to illuminate his misery and he's not. Built. For. This.
Not built for being a mentor or a leader or a role model; not built to handle the strenuous nature of his mother's legacy; not built to carry the name she's made for herself as a teacher and a choreographer and a shaper of young dancers.
Steve's not built for it!
They'd had a shitty fucking dress.
"Hey, uh, you gonna be a while? I kinda need to close up for the night."
The voice echoes across the empty space, bouncing off the high ceiling and straight up to land on the Marley floors at Steve's feet. The stage isn't built for dancers, much like Steve isn't built to be here, so they'd had to pull up the floors from the studio and drag them halfway across town just to roll them out here.
"Hello? Are you, like, alive up there?"
Steve sighs. "Yeah," he calls back, catching sight of the figure talking to him at the back of the theater, the young guy who runs the place and who Steve met a grand total of three days ago. His name is Eddie and he dresses more like he's running a music venue than a local community theater, but he's mostly stayed out of Steve's way so far. "Sorry, I'll get outta your hair."
"Sure," Eddie says, but he's just sort of leaning against the back wall by the window to the sound and lighting booth without an ounce of urgency to him as Steve drags himself to his aching feet and lugs his three separate bags of show stuff onto his shoulders.
There's an energy to an empty theater, one which has held a performance and one which now holds the ghosts of that performance, which tugs at the anxieties sitting buried deep beneath the more immediate ones.
Fears about his mom's health, about what will happen to the studio if she doesn't win this particular battle, about what will happen to him.
There's an energy here in the creak of the steps which lead down off the front of the stage and there's an energy to the plod of Steve's sneakers up the long, racked aisle between the seats.
There's an energy, but it's also not empty, is it.
"Hey, good show, dude," Eddie says, pushing off his wall as Steve grows nearer. "Like, talented kids you've got there."
Steve scoffs before he can help himself and then pinches the bridge of his nose in a grimace for not being able to help himself.
"Uh, yeah, thanks," he grits out, thinking about his bed. Thinking about how he never made time for dinner and he has to be here early again tomorrow.
"Wow, resounding confidence on this one," Eddie snorts, and when Steve opens his eyes it's to genuine amusement, genuine curiosity in the tilt of a head and furrow of a brow.
"No, just," he shakes his head, "you should see 'em when they're really on their game, y'know?"
Eddie hums, and when did Steve come to a stop right in front of him? He's leaving. He has to leave. Go home. Think about all the spacing corrections he needs to fix tomorrow and run through with the girls before show time.
"Bad dress, good show though, right?"
Steve startles. Maybe a little too visibly because Eddie is actively holding back laughter at the sight of him.
"What, I've worked at a theater for four years and I'm not supposed to pick up a thing or two about the ballet?" he snarks good-naturedly. "Caroline, the lady who did your job before you, she was a chatty one, taught me everything I know about Giselle."
It's a knife between the ribs. It's a soothing sort of heat, like from a roaring bonfire.
"You--" he clears his throat, "you know Caroline?"
"Highlight of the job honestly, before she retired," Eddie shrugs.
"She didn't retire."
"Oh. She...?"
"Chemo," Steve doesn't know why he's saying it all so willingly, why after months of trying to run the studio without having to talk about how's your mom doing, sweetheart? he's opening up to this stranger with the curly hair and curious eyes. But he knows her. He's-- Well, he knows her. "I'm just here to-- to fill in until she can come back. So."
Eddie is studying him now. Curious eyes turned intelligent, knowing, sad with the weight of realization.
"You're the wonder boy," he says on a breath like oh, I get it now.
"The what?" Steve balks.
"Her kid," Eddie says like it's simple. He's leaning against the wall again, like he's not planning on getting back to work anymore, "she was-- Shit, man, she loves the hell outta you. Oh, you should see my son, he's in Les Corsaire this season! Oh, my boy, he's just gotten promoted to soloist, he'll be a principal in no time! Oh, the talent on him, the--"
"Okay, okay, Jesus," Steve cuts him off, a half-hysterical laugh bubbling up out of his chest in the process.
"You should tell her I say hi next time you see her," Eddie isn't remotely deterred by having his little, lilting performance derailed. There's a softness to him that deserves a smaller space, walls less prone to echo.
"I will," Steve nods. His bags grow heavy on his shoulders.
"And you should chill out a little bit," he says, this time with the kind of glint to his eye that needs a bigger space, needs to be up on the stage to the point where it has Steve floundering, "y'know, about the the shitty dress that, between you and me," he leans in conspiratorially, close enough to feel the heat of his breath, "wasn't really all that shitty."
Steve sucks in a breath.
It strikes him somewhere old, the reassurance, somewhere young deep inside of him. The comforting from a mother that if he just works hard enough he’ll land that double tour in fifth some day soon, the unbroken promise that she would never give him special treatment as the son of the studio owner, but that she would never hesitate to reward him when he’d earned it on his own.
It strikes him because no one tells you how little reassurance the guy in charge is ever offered and it strikes him because it’s been such a long day and it strikes him because—
“Hey, have you had dinner yet?”
Eddie’s eyebrows lift high on his forehead and Steve sees it, the attitude on this dude that his mother absolutely would have loved in an instant. There’s a performer in there, even just in the brief interaction they’ve shared so far. There’s a spotlight pointing inwards and a show begging to be dragged out.
“No,” Eddie drags out slow and curious, “you offering, ballet boy?”
Steve needs a sounding board and he needs another set of eyes and he needs his mom to be okay and the show tomorrow to prove that he can handle this for her if she’s not, but maybe what he needs most right now, on the other side of a spiral in a dark and echoing theater, is this.
“Meet me at Benny’s in thirty,” he says simply as he makes his way for the door. “Since you’re such an experienced test audience.”
Eddie’s responding laugh is bright and his eyes glitter with curious amusement and maybe this is what Steve needs because maybe all of this is one big rehearsal at a big new life in and old small town.
And maybe this is his chance to make a mess of it. At least until the real show starts.
349 notes · View notes
nataliasquote · 5 months
Text
Double the trouble [pt.1] | n romanoff
Tumblr media
Double the trouble au: part 1, part 2
Summary: Natasha and Wanda’s teenage twin daughters are a lot to handle, but despite their differences and arguments, there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for each other
Warnings: none
Pairings: WandaNat
wc: 3.9k
note: my first time putting a one shot on tumblr. Here goes nothing
— ⧗ —
"Y/N! Mom told me to come wake you. You're gonna be late." Isla stood at the door, her arms folded with a cocky smirk plastered on her face.
Y/N groaned and turned over in her bed, flinging an arm over her face as she squinted into the light to see who was speaking. The familiar outline of her twin sister came into view and she rolled back over.
"Y/N. Get up. Or don't. It's not my fault if you're late." And with that, the girl was gone, the door swinging shut as a cloud of floral perfume was all that was left in her place.
"Good morning to you too." Y/N muttered under her breath as she pulled her phone off charge and checked the time. Her stomach dropped as 7:19 flashed up on her screen. School started at 8:00. They left at 7:45. She did not have long at all.
"Isla I'm gonna kill you!" The distressed teenager screamed out, running over to her closet to pull out the first half decent outfit she could find. Any feeling of tiredness evaporated from her body as she got dressed, which was probably the only positive to come out of this morning.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door as she pulled her shirt over her head. Wanda's head popped around before she saw it was safe for her to enter. She watched her daughter getting frustrated over her hair for a moment before walking over with a plate of freshly made toast and fruit. There wasn't much time to eat it but Wanda was the kind of mother who made sure all of her girls were fed. Even when Nat was feeling stubborn.
"Good morning sweetheart. I brought breakfast." It was an obvious thing to send but Y/N smiled gratefully at her in the mirror for a split second before a large tangle in her hair caused her to wince.
"Thanks Mom."
"Do you want me to send Mama up to help with your hair?" As a typical mom, Wanda collected a few spare cups from her daughter's desk and stacked them in her hand. Y/N attacked her hair with her hairbrush before setting it down on the table with a thud.
"No! I'm not 4! I can do my own hair!" She exclaimed. She didn't normally talk to Wanda that way, but the stress of being late was taking its toll so Wanda didn't take offence.
"Okay. Well, you've got 15 minutes."
Y/N groaned loudly and started on her make up, having given up on her hair. A ponytail would suffice for today. She did not have the patience.
"Isla, you know you can't leave without your sister. So I don't know what trick you're playing on her, but if she's late then you're late." Wanda went into stern mother mode as she entered the kitchen, where her eldest (by 11 minutes) was sat at the table drinking her breakfast smoothie.
The teenager looked up in offence at her mother, who just shot her a warning look. "I didn-" She was cut off by another glare from Wanda.
The mother tapped the side of her head. "Mind reader. Remember?"
"What's this about mind reading?" Nat questioned as she walked into the kitchen, going straight over to her wife to wrap her in a hug and a kiss. Isla turned back to her phone and the women looked over at their daughter. "And where's Y/N?"
"Well, someone turned her sister's alarm off so she's currently rushing around upstairs."
Nat sent her famous disappointed look to Isla, who cowered slightly. Wanda was easy to get around, often being far too soft with her girls. Natasha was the tough parent, but she still cared. Being a dance teacher and studio owner meant she was an expert in tough love. "Isla... why?"
The teenager shrugged. "I don't know. I just thought it was funny. I was gonna wake her up but I lost track of time." She pulled a lock of perfectly curled hair out of her face and Nat knew what had made her 'lose track of time'.
"You don't do that again, okay?" Isla nodded, not wanting to start an argument before 8am. She wasn't a bad person, but her ideas of teasing her sister and playing jokes weren't exactly the best.
"Hey my love," Wanda hummed as Nat passed her again with a kiss. "Can you go see if Y/N needs any help? She might benefit from your braiding skills today, even though she was okay."
Natasha smiled, nodding. She loved braiding her daughters' hair. Even at 17, when the twins claimed they were too old for it, they secretly loved Nat's braids. Especially Y/N, who found her mom doing her hair at lot during dance show season.
There was just over 5 minutes before they needed to leave so Nat tentatively entered Y/N's room, observing the girl before talking. The teenager was threading her earrings into her ears, the rest of her jewellery already in place. Make up was scattered across the desk and her hairbrush was on the other side of the room. Her hair hung down her back in a dark red curtain, the ends curling naturally slightly. It looked smooth but wasn't styled, and Nat smiled.
"Hey sweet girl. Can I help?" She sat on Y/N's bed slightly, picking up the backpack by the floor and slotting her daughter's laptop and charger into the right compartment. She didn't snoop around, but instead put it back on the floor by her feet.
"I just need to finish my make up. How long do I have?" Y/N took a bite of toast as Nat checked her watch.
"5 minutes. Do you want braids? I can do them in 2 minutes. And I won't be in your way." Y/N was hesitant as she applied her concealer, frantically blending it in. Wasn't her neatest job but she still wanted to be presentable.
"Okay but please make it quick."
Nat sprung into action, gathering up a small section of hair to begin braiding. The two worked in silence, with there being no time to walk. As Nat tied off the first braid, Y/N leaned forwards to curl her lashes before Nat started again on the other side. The braids were only small, taking the front sections of Y/N's hair to keep them out of her face during the day.
Being a dancer, she kept her hair long but there was so much of it that it got in the way a lot. So she rarely had it fully down, either claw clips or braids holding back. Isla rarely wore braids, wanting to differentiate herself from her sister at school. They got mixed up enough as it was.
"Okay. All done." Nat stepped back as Y/N applied her final coat of lipgloss. She smiled as she saw the braids but didn't have time to admire them before a jangle of keys was heard and a voice yelled up the stairs.
"Y/N! Let's go!"
"Always so polite." Nat said sarcastically with a smile to Y/N. She handed her daughter her backpack and gave her a quick hug before the girl rushed out of the room, Nat following behind more calmly.
"Love you Mama! Love you Mom!" Y/N shouted over her shoulder, running out of the house with a slice of her toast in her hand.
"Have a great day girls." The women called out, watching the car pull away from the driveway. Isla got her permit before Y/N so she was the designated taxi girl in the family now. Y/N hated it, but driving wasn't her strongest suit so she stuck out the irritating chatter of her sister until she was finally ready for her own permit.
"Everyday I'm still surprised at how similar yet so different they are." Wanda commented, her hands wrapped round her mug of tea. Nat mirrored her from her side, her mug containing coffee instead.
"They look like a carbon copy of each other and yet sometimes I feel it's like they're from different planets." This made Wanda laugh slightly, her breathy giggle never failing to put a smile on her wife's face.
"I mean, you wouldn't find Isla in a dance studio anymore. But then Y/N practically lives there. And you wouldn't find her on the athletics track either, unlike Isla. We must have done something right... right?"
Nat sidled up to her wife and wrapped her arms around her waist, mug now abandoned on the counter. "You, my dear, are the best mom those girls could ask for." She looked into the green eyes she knew far too well before pressing a kiss to the lips she had memorised and could draw in her sleep. "We've done everything we can do for them. And our girls are the toughest girls in the world."
"And they're ours."
"Our little babies." Nat said with a soft smile, her head leaning down to rest on Wanda's shoulder.
"Don't let Y/N hear you saying that. She was snappy about me thinking she was 4 earlier."
"That girl is a whirlwind. She's as wild as her hair sometimes." Wanda reached up and pushed a lock of Nat's red hair behind her ear, admiring the colour which matched the twins' almost perfectly.
"And I know just where she gets it from." The Sokovian said with a smile before kissing her wife. Nat tried to deepen it now it was just them, but Wanda pulled back. "I have work to do. As much as I'd love to stay here with you all day, those emails won't answer themselves." She left the room with an aura of grace surrounding her and Nat found herself staring at the door way long after she was gone.
— ⧗ —
The day went by quite fast. Wanda worked in her office until 4pm, whilst Nat left for her studio at 1pm to start preparing that evening's classes. Competition season was a stressful time but she handled herself well, staying on top of what she needed and when.
The final bell rang and the corridors were soon filled with hoards of teenagers, everyone racing to get home as quickly as possible. Y/N and Isla stopped by their lockers, chatting with friends as they exchanged the textbooks needed for tonight's homework.
Despite their quarrels and petty arguments, the twins shared the same group of friends at school. They were known by everyone, but Bucky, Maria, Clint, Kate and Steve made up their main group. They were pretty popular, partly due to the fact that there wasn't a single person who disliked their moms. Nat and Wanda were the favourite parents which somehow elevated the girls' social status in school. Maybe it was also because of the parties they were allowed to host.
Natasha and Wanda's main focus was to give their girls as normal of a life as they possible could. Which meant letting them live like teenagers. Going to football games, school dances, hosting house parties, trips to the mall with friends. Anything that normal teenagers did was allowed. Alcohol was monitored and smoking and drugs was a strict no. But the twins followed the rules, knowing they were a lot luckier than most.
"Shit. Mom needs me in the studio." Y/N read aloud as her locker slammed shut. Isla peered down at her sister's phone and sighed.
"Y/N I've got track practice in 15 minutes. I can't get you there and back in time." Her sports bag hung off her shoulder and she watched her sister grab the emergency dance bag from her locker that she kept purely for times like this. "Well, I suppo-"
"I can take you" Bucky spoke. He was leaning with his back against the lockers like he usually did, watching Y/N with a soft smile.
"No I-" Isla started to protest but stopped herself. She knew how much Bucky was crushing on her sister and she was in full support. "Actually, Bucky, that would be amazing." Everyone else was aware of his crush, all except Y/N. She was completely oblivious, which obviously Isla took full advantage of and teased her about it almost on a daily basis.
"Do you know where it is?" Y/N asked casually. She had been crouched down by her bags to swap her stuff over and so had missed the looks and glances that everyone shared as Bucky offered. So as she stood back up everyone was smiling wide which confused her. "What?"
"Yeah my little sister does ballet on saturdays there and I pick her up sometimes." Bucky had already fished his car keys out and was tossing them in his hand.
Y/N noticed her sister's smirk out of the corner of her eye as they all walked to the exit of the school. "Isla, what is it?"
"Nothing. You guys have fun. But not too much fun." And with a wink, she turned towards the track and ran off to join her friends who were already on their way over in the distance. Everyone else said goodbye and went their separate ways for the night, leaving Bucky and Y/N by his car.
Y/N was definitely the kindest out of the twins, so she could easily make conversation with anyone. She didn't think anything special of the car ride to her mom's studio, except maybe that Bucky was really nice to offer her a ride. It was only a 10 minute drive but she was still so grateful.
"Thanks a lot for this, by the way." Y/N said as she stared out of the window. She knew this route like the back of her hand but something about the sun shining through the trees made it extra special today.
Bucky shook his head. "It's no problem. Always happy to help."
Y/N looked over and smiled at him. "You're a really good friend. I'm glad I've got you."
Bucky's smile slipped but he fixed it quickly as they came to a red light. Once again he was pushed back into the friend zone, but it was his fault for not making his feelings known. As he looked over at her, the sun catching her red hair, making it look like fire, her body swaying slightly to the music of "You Make Loving Fun", he realised just how much he liked her. But Y/N was sweet to everyone, so it held him back. Maybe she didn't see him the way he saw her. Or maybe she liked someone else.
His thoughts had distracted him and the lights turned green, earning a soft poke in the arm from Y/N who gestured to the lights.
They both hummed along to the music and chatted the rest of the way, Y/N sending her mom a quick text as they caught the rush hour traffic.
"You really are amazing for doing this. I'll pay you back at some point, I promise!" Y/N gratefully thanked him as she grabbed her bags to climb out of the car. Bucky offered to get out and help but Y/N's stubborn nature refused any help.
"Don't worry about it. Enjoy yourself. You're an amazing dancer!" He leaned out of the window and waved as he drove off, sending a blush creeping across Y/N's face.
Maybe the feelings were reciprocated. Just a little...
"Hey angel," Nat called out as Y/N walked through the main entrance doors.
"Hi Mama."
"Who was that outside?" Nat asked after Y/N said hi to the receptionist. She made her way over to her mother, who was stood by the door to the main studio and cafe.
"Oh, Bucky gave me a lift here. Isla had track so she couldn't get back in time." Nat couldn't help the smirk that crept onto her face, identical to the one Isla wore just before they left school.
"Oh so that's Bucky? Nice." She turned around and walked down the hall, leaving Y/N to chase after her.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The teenager called out, but Nat just shrugged and checked the windows outside studio 1b. "Mama. Please tell me. Isla had the same smirk. I'm not stupid so just tell me what's going on."
Y/N's huff and pout made Nat 'aw' and she pinched her daughter's cheek before her hand was quickly slapped away. "Nothing baby. I just expected to see Isla, that's all. Not Bucky."
Y/N folded her arms over her chest, careful not to let her backpack or sports bag slip off her shoulders. "I don't believe you."
Nat patted her on the head and unlocked the door to the studio. "Okay. Now come on. I want to work on your solo. We have that turns section to sort out so hurry up and get changed."
Y/N groaned and dropped her back off her shoulder, where it landed with a muffled thud ad her feet. "Mom give me a minute. I just got here."
"I have no minutes to give. It's comp season, you know that Y/N/N. No time to waste." Nat was already over in the speaker corner, connecting her laptop up so it was ready. "Why are you still standing there?"
"Can I just have 2 minutes to breathe?"
Natasha turned around and placed her hands on her hips, mirroring her daughter perfectly. "Do you want Yelena to take your private instead? She's free right now actually. I could be teaching junior tap instead."
Y/N's eyes went wide and she quickly grabbed her discarded bag. "No no! I'll hurry. I'll change and be back! Please don't sent Yelena in here!"
"Good. And I won't. She's taking your class for ballet later anyway. So you have that to enjoy."
The teenager was halfway to the changing room before she stopped dead in her tracks. That was her worst nightmare. "Mama! She's gonna be all 'Those feet are horrible. Point them. Why do your hands look like claws. Are you a crab? Are we doing Little Mermaid dance? Your posture is like potato couch. Why are none of you flexible?'" Her Russian accent sounded nothing like her aunt, which made Nat raise an eyebrow. She'd taught her daughters better than that. Or so she thought.
"Potato couch?"
"I think she meant couch potato. But yeah she said that to Becca last week. It helped though. Her posture was better last night."
"Then she's a good teacher." Such a know it all.  "Do you stretch every night?"
Y/N went to answer and Nat gave her a knowing look. "Well, not every night."
"Then everything Yelena says is true. So don't complain. She tells me everything."
"I don't see how you guys are sisters. You're so different. She makes you seem almost angelic." Y/N fiddled with the lock on the changing room door.
"Exactly what your mom and I say about you and Isla. Now stop being cheeky and go get changed. And I want the hi-cut black leotard because we're working on legs today. Oh, and Y/N, bring your half soles because I don't want to completely destroy your feet before the rest of your classes." Natasha was bossy but it's what made her one of the best teachers around. She knew what she wanted and what it took to get there. She could recognise the potential in her dancers but would only work with those who put the work in themselves.
There was something so special about working with your daughter. Nat loved it, even if she didn't get to do privates like this much. Yes, she went into dance teacher mode and Y/N was no exception, but the pride she felt when she watched her daughter dance was something she didn't feel as much with the other dancers. Just like when she watched Isla win her races, seeing Y/N dance made her heart swell so much it felt as though it would burst.
10 minutes later and Y/N emerged from the changing room, a hair tie between her teeth as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Nat wasn't strict on hair with privates, only with normal class. So she just put on some calming music and started stretching with her daughter. Yes, it was weird seeing her mom effortlessly do the splits, but Y/N was used to it by now.
They gossiped the whole time, Y/N filling her in on any school drama that was of interest. As Y/N moved to the bar to stretch her leg holds, Nat couldn't hold back her questions anymore.
"What's going on with you and Bucky?" Nat asked and then burst out laughing as she turned to face her daughter. Y/N had her right leg pulled up to her head, but the most confused and shocked expression on her face. It truly was a hilarious sight.
"Uh- nothing? But I feel like you know something I don't? That's the second time you've asked me today."
Nat shrugged. "Well, he gave you a lift. I'm just curious."
"Well there's nothing to be curious about." She switched legs as she was talking. "He's just a friend. You know that. We've literally been friends since middle school!"
"Okay. I'll just ask Isla then." Nat smirked and walked over to her laptop.
"Mama, she will just tell you the same! And if she doesn't then she's just causing drama. Or making my life a living hell."
"She's your sister. That's what she's supposed to do. You do the exact same to her, even if you don't think so." Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to the centre of the room. "Okay, let's run it. You ready?"
"Is that why you and Aunt Yelena can't direct the same dance show? Because you argue?" Y/N smirked as her mom shook her head. "I'm right aren't I?"
"No you're not. And she's Miss Yelena to you. Just like I'm Miss Natasha. Now, dance."
"Yes Mama." Y/N wore a shit eating grin as she moved to her starting position, trying to get into the character of her dance so she didn't burst out laughing.
She was grateful for the relationship she had with both her moms and family meant the most to her. Even Isla had a special place in her heart, despite their quarrels and petty arguments. Those sisters would do anything for each other if it came down to it. Which was surprising to everyone except Wanda and Natasha. They saw the sisterly bond like no one else did. It was unbreakable.
400 notes · View notes
inoreuct · 6 months
Text
i just got a brainwave. ZOSAN DANCER AU.
zoro mainly does hip hop, sanji mostly does ballet, they’re both attending this prestigious dance academy; zoro’s a scholarship student and he thinks sanji’s an absolute fucking snob. he can’t stand the prissy rich boy three studios down, golden with all the money from his royal background— he’s a vinsmoke. he’s a prince. it’s right there on the student name list, clear as day.
he’s only seen sanji from afar and yeah, sure, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge but the blond infuriates him with his stupid hair flips and his heart eyes and his mirror-hogging and the way he kneels down to retie the girls’ pointe shoe ribbons for them so that they don’t have to. he’s tall and willowy and strong and fucking talented and every time zoro sees him he wants to kick a hole through the drywall.
now, zoro doesn’t really practice in school often. he enjoys lessons well enough, but he and his crew dance their best in the streets. so when he signs up for a practice slot the one time and gets there (already fifteen minutes late, mind you) just to realise there’s a very familiar annoyance in his studio? he’s pissed. he slams the door open right as sanji executes a spinny jump thing that reaches a frankly ridiculous height, sinking to one knee with his head thrown back, the air ringing after the music’s final crescendo.
zoro doesn’t give a shit. he’s tired and hungry and needs to get his fucking step sequence clean before next week’s dance battle, and thus opens his mouth and shatters right through the thick quiet as he barks, “vinsmoke!”
and he doesn’t know why, but sanji’s gaze flicks to him and he freezes in place. the blond’s expression, just moments ago composed and focused, is dripping with something that zoro can’t quite name, but he has to stop himself from gulping when sanji gets up and beelines straight for him, jabbing a manicured finger right into his sternum without reserve.
“don’t. fucking. call me that,” the blond grits, damn near seething, jaw so tense zoro’s honestly afraid he’ll crack a tooth and it’s almost funny, but he suspects that he really did cross some sort of line, and he might be rough around the edges but he isn’t an ass.
“okay, i’m sorry,” he offers, cautious, hands up in the air. the words taste weird in his mouth, but sanji looks slightly less livid so he counts it as a win. “what do i call you, then?”
the other man looks torn between kicking zoro soundly in the shin (which zoro can already tell would hurt like a bitch) and storming out of the studio, but he huffs loudly and turns away. “black. sanji black.”
zoro hums carefully and slowly inches his way to the corner of the room, setting his duffel down much gentler than he normally does. he should really leave this alone. he has a solo he needs to practice for and dinner to catch after. so what if sanji renounced his supposedly royal last name? it didn't make him any better than every other stuck-up dancer with a superiority complex.
(he decidedly doesn’t leave it alone, because this is the first time that he’s seen cracks in the blond’s porcelain-doll facade, and he can’t help but want to dig his fingertips in and pry. he’s never claimed to have a sense of self-preservation.)
“so…” he starts, facing the barre that he’ll never use and watching sanji through the mirror. “your parents—”
“not my parents, i’m estranged,” sanji cuts in, blunt and terse, emotionless to the point where zoro knows he cares much, much more like he wants to seem like he does.
he watches sanji sit in the middle of the wooden floor and fiddle with the elastics on his weird sock shoe hybrids, going into splits with no apparent effort and pressing his torso flat to the ground. a bright blue eye meets his and zoro looks away sharply, yanking on the zipper of his duffel and grabbing his snapback to pop the closures just to look busy.
…god, fuck, zoro wants to ask so bad. estranged. that word is rapidly reshuffling his worldview regarding the man currently yanking off his knitted leg warmers behind him and tossing them to the side. he wants to know how much of all of it is real; the money, the rumours, the gleaming reputation that surrounds sanji like a shield. he’s their academy’s golden boy and a shoo-in for the principal position at its sister ballet company, once he graduates. zoro had thought of him as an absolute primadonna— put bluntly, a pompous brat. a classic silver spoon child. but even just sitting here and stewing in his thoughts, the ability to cling onto the image he’d admittedly half made up in his head is rapidly slipping away from him.
it’s painfully obvious that sanji can talk the talk and walk the walk. jump the jump? “hey, what was that spinny jump thing you did just now?” jesus christ. zoro winces; his voice is so loud against the silence that he nearly puts his head in his hands.
“mm?” sanji’s voice isn’t even strained as he sits up from where he’d had his face pressed to his knees, forearms around his feet. how a person could even fold that far forward, zoro would never understand.
“the— the jump thing. when i came in.”
“oh, the double entrelacé?”
zoro squints. “the fuck kind of name is ontrolassay?”
“it means interlace in french, you—” the blond seems to struggle with choosing an insult before he finally lands on, “—goonhead. although i wouldn’t expect you to be able to appreciate it.”
the KT tape on zoro’s calf rolls back at the edge as he rubs over it absentmindedly, and he quickly stops. that shit isn’t cheap. but he’s more concerned about why he'd been doing it in the first place, because he only does that when he thinks, and zoro has enough self-awareness to know that when he thinks too hard it usually doesn’t end well. he’s all instinct— and something in the back of his mind is telling him that sanji is tired.
the blond isn’t just a pretty boy with no bite, that much is obvious. but now, with the sky dark outside the full-length windows and the air still and silent, it’s easier for him to see the weariness that sanji hides with all his fawning and flirting and smiles. he eyes the other man in his peripheral and clocks it settled bone-deep in the weight of sanji’s eyelids, the parting of his hair, the curve of his back.
he turns around properly to look at sanji over his shoulder and thinks, ah, fuck it. he’d been late to begin with and he’s spent so long here fiddling with his fucking hat under the guise of doing something important that half of his hour-long slot is gone, anyway. “the crew and i are going for pizza. come with.” a smirk pulls at his mouth as he cocks his head. “or are you gonna die if you eat something other than rabbit food?”
the blond looks up with an arched brow and a scowl. “you fucking wish,” sanji scoffs, but after a moment he gets up and starts tossing things into his bag. “it better be makino’s. arlong’s pizza dough tastes like sardines no matter what you get.”
zoro would have been impressed if sanji knew any neighbourhood pizza places to begin with, but this sounds like he has experience. “of course it’s makino’s, curly. we have standards.”
“i wouldn’t have known,” sanji sniffs delicately. “and curly?”
“yeah.” zoro shrugs, the strap of his bag digging in over his baggy tee as he stands. “your hair, your brows, your spinny jump thing—”
“double entrelacé.”
zoro makes a like i said gesture with his hands, grinning broadly. “spinny jump thing.”
sanji sighs as he tosses his hair out of his face. zoro gets a glimpse of two sapphire eyes, blue as the heart of a flame. “you’re a barbarian.” the blond shoulders him aside and snaps the lights off, pulling the door shut as he fishes out the keys. “and you’re buying.”
zoro hums non-committally and deliberately neglects to mention that makino’s fond of both luffy, his best friend, and luffy’s godfather shanks— which means that the whole crew basically eats free on late weekdays like these. on a side note, shanks has a thing with his own dad, mihawk, but they refuse to admit it. it’s infuriating. maybe he’ll rope sanji into helping to get them together before christmas because he has a bet running with nami and it is not looking good for him.
they walk out into the brisk night air as he flips his snapback onto his head, picking up the pace when he sees sanji shiver. “i drove, c’mon.”
“oh, you’ve been driving,” sanji says airily, raising his brows again as he digs around in his well-loved canvas bag for his cardigan. it’s pink and it’s cashmere, because of course it is. “driving me crazy.”
zoro doesn’t even realise he laughs until after it’s left his mouth and sanji is looking at him with wide eyes, blue, blue and more blue. he clears his throat. “let’s hope i don’t crash, then. did i mention i’m half blind on the left side?”
he cackles as sanji squawks at that, half-terrified and disbelieving, and on the way to makino’s he explains how he’d gotten into a scooter accident with luffy as a kid. (“of course you did,” sanji mutters, rolling his eyes. there’s no malice to it.) his crew’s already waiting for him when they arrive; to his dismay (or is it?), sanji hits it off with them marvellously.
zoro finds out that sanji’s biological family is royal, sure. royal assholes. sanji had run away one day and the bastards hadn’t done a damn thing to make sure he was alright, which, he supposes, made sense considering sanji had literally run away. (he isn't given a reason. he doesn't push.) and yet vinsmoke judge still refuses to let sanji change his name, which means that sanji’s father zeff had never been able to legally adopt him. he pays his own school fees working at zeff’s restaurant; not as a waiter but as a chef, and at this point zoro resigns himself to seeing this guy around a lot more because luffy’s already vibrating with excitement and in this friend group, luffy somehow always gets what he wants. sanji’s in it for the long haul now.
but it doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing anymore. zoro almost feels bad for thinking that sanji had been some kind of spoiled brat the whole time, and isn’t that something? the blond is quick to laugh and hardworking and snarky and proud, yes, but it’s deserved solely based on how much he’s trained to get to where he is— he’s damn good and he knows it, and zoro can appreciate that.
(he takes that last bit and shoves it into a box that he locks up tight and buries deep, deep down. he will Not be thinking about that tonight.)
he’s impressed all over again as he watches the sanji inhale an entire four cheese pizza and five garlic knots to boot, and he laughs when the blond gives him a petulant glare.
“fuck off, marimo, i’ve been training all day. m’fucking starving,” he groans through another mouthful of garlic and cheese, elegantly hiding his mouth behind his hand.
oh, hell no. “marimo?” zoro deadpans. “really?”
“not inaccurate,” nami hums from beside him, and he nearly smacks his forehead to the table. he cannot let these two get along. that would be the beginning of his own personal hell.
it’s too late. “small and green and fluffy,” sanji coos, faux-condescending as he reaches out to pet zoro on the head, and zoro snaps his teeth at slender fingers. he listens to sanji meld effortlessly into his friend group and wonders just what he's gotten himself into.
(there is warmth blooming between his ribs. he knows it will grow no matter what he does.)
they get closer as the weeks go by. zoro learns that sanji hates oregano with more vitriol than should be possible towards a herb. he learns the blond’s favourite brand of dance shoes (he knows that they’re suede slippers now, considering he got beaten over the head with them). he learns that sanji’s left arm never healed completely right from where his oldest brother snapped it when they were children, and he has to dig his nails into his palm so that he doesn’t punch something. sanji drags him into an empty studio one day and tells him to lift his leg as high as he can, which devolves into a stretching session that zoro is more inclined to call torture. sanji is adamant that having at least some degree of flexibility will help him dance more fluidly and loosen up his muscles. zoro tells him to eat shit.
(he goes home, and stretches, and he’s mad as hell because sanji’s right.)
the whole crew goes to the ballet course’s end-of-semester recital and nearly gets kicked out with how loudly they scream when sanji finishes his presentation. zoro throws a rose along with everyone else and pretends that he doesn’t.
(sanji pretends that he doesn’t find the exact one zoro tossed and press it to his nose as he sits in the dressing room backstage, his classmates bustling around him not enough to break his bubble of makeup mirror lighting and silky red petals and the memory of keen grey eyes, watching from the darkness of the audience seats.)
(zoro had been the first one to stand when he’d bowed. he’d cheered the loudest. sanji saw him. sanji heard him.)
zoro doesn't realise how much he talks about sanji until his sister threatens to peel the skin off his face if you don't ask him to come watch nationals, zoro, i swear to all that is unholy— and he shudders. perona is... terrifying. he also loves her terrifyingly much, but that won't stop her from peeling his face off, so he drops sanji a text with the details of the national finals of the dance battle that he was supposed to be training for that fateful day. he's too chickenshit to do anything else. too much of a coward to ask him face-to-face.
they win. their friends and family flood the stage. zoro looks for one face only. he feels a hand on his shoulder, whips around with his heart pounding and oh, he's here. radiant under the stadium lights, hair gleaming like brazened honey, eyes bluer than the sky and his smile even brighter. zoro opens his mouth to say something. anything.
sanji crashes into his arms and kisses him, and he feels like the fucking king of the world.
(the wolf-whistles only register when he realises sanji's legs are wrapped around his hips, his hands beneath strong thighs, but sanji is flushed so brilliantly pink and he looks so happy that zoro doesn't even care. luffy's elbow loops around his neck, nami crashing into his back, usopp coming in fast from the right, and sanji wiggles down to slide his arms around zoro's waist and tuck right up against his side. the trophy shines in his fist as he raises it high above the crowd and his nakama press in tight around him, and zoro screams and cheers with them until his throat goes hoarse.)
(mihawk and shanks get together three days later. sanji and zoro split the money nami begrudgingly forks over and then buy the whole crew pizza.)
461 notes · View notes
abiiors · 3 months
Note
Tumblr media Tumblr media
All I’m seeing for the dancer au….good girl and bad boy aesthetics 
you're so very close to what i want to do and it def includes a corruption kink 🤭
12 notes · View notes
sixlane · 1 month
Text
@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging
Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3
Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently. 
He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect. 
James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school. 
He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close. 
As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top? 
James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old. 
“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”
A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor. 
Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall. 
He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him. 
“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans. 
“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes. 
Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio. 
The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers. 
“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand. 
He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.
“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks. 
James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”
The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time. 
He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.
James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.
“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”
James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.
Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.
Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.
James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.
He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.
“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.
James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.
Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open. 
“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”
James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.
Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”
James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.
“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.
James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.
“Words, James.”
“You’re in charge,” James breathes.
“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.
“Whatever you want.”
“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”
James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.
“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.
When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly. 
Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.
“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”
James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.
Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine. 
Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek. 
“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”
And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.
Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.
“Ready?” He asks.
James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.
“Always so tight for me baby.”
“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.
Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess. 
He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already. 
For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.
“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.
Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.
James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.
“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”
James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed. 
Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.
“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.
James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.
Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.
He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.
Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”
James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.
Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.
253 notes · View notes
booburt · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
she is NOT hearing him out on his delulus
Tumblr media
also....teacher bon chan and student mugi chan...... theyre everything 2 me
206 notes · View notes
moreslendermales · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mihael Belilov
499 notes · View notes
deltamb3r · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
WIP
Sometimes I forget I have another cotl au
(also would you be interested if I would gonna post more wips on Tumblr?
225 notes · View notes
lunannex · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Someone came to watch his performance. This is part of my dancer Kaveh AU
158 notes · View notes